17 February 2011

On tranqs, butter, and the MRI

With a horse tranquilizer, a tub of "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!," some prayer, some cussing, and an extra-large shoe horn, I made it into and out of the MRI machine this afternoon.  It wasn't so bad.

Waiting for the results. . .Thanks for all the prayers!

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

Right Answer, Wrong Understanding

6th Week OT (R)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula

You really can't go through life without being tested. In school, we take tests to measure our knowledge. In the doctor's office, we are subjected tests to evaluate our health. At work, we are given tests to evaluate our competence for the job. Our faith can be tested with temptations. Our sanity can be tested by illness, anxiety, trauma. We can even run tests on the viability of a marriage. Through the centuries, the Church has been tested. Heresies, schisms, multiple popes reigning simultaneously. Invasions, revolutions, suppression by the State. The most dangerous tests of the Church are usually internal. The Church in the U.S. right now is being tested by abuse scandals. The Church in Ireland and Germany are suffering just as the Church in Eastern Europe, Africa, and Asia is growing like Mississippi kudzu. At a vital moment in their training to become apostles, Jesus turns to the disciples and asks, “Who do people say that I am?” John the Baptist. Elijah. One of the prophets. Then the real test. Jesus asks, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter speaks up first, “You are the Christ.” That's the right answer, but does Peter get a gold star for answering correctly? Maybe. If he had stopped there. Peter knows the right answer, but he doesn't know what it means. Jesus is the Christ. Do you know this means?

Inside and outside the Church, Jesus has been portrayed as a desert prophet, a learned philosopher, a mountain mystic, a monk, an eastern priest, a kindly teacher, an ascended master. He's been painted as a fierce judge of sinners; a shining, saintly father; a well-fed merchant, a Buddhist monk, and even as a Renaissance pope! We've read about him as a bomb-throwing Marxist revolutionary, a middle-class social reformer, a feminist campaigner, and a man dying from HIV/AIDS. Everywhere he is portrayed—in art, literature, religious texts—Jesus is always exactly what we need him to be, telling us what we want to hear. And it is for this reason, that Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” This question tests the understanding of those who follow him around in crowds, those who hear rumors of his works and words. Jesus asks his disciples “Who do you say that I am?” b/c he must know that those closest to him truly understand who he is and what he has been sent to do. They seem to understand his identity but not his mission. Not yet anyway.

When Jesus foretells his treatment at the hands of his enemies, Peter takes him aside and rebukes him. No more than the others, Peter doesn't want to hear what will happen to his teacher. If Peter had truly understood Jesus' mission, he would have understood that the Anointed One promised by the prophets would have to suffer. Scripture is clear about this. Peter's rebuke is a temptation for Jesus, a temptation to abandon his mission and stay with his friends. Jesus puts Peter and the temptation in their proper place, “Get behind me, Satan.” Because of who he is and what he must do, Jesus knows that his Passion has been prophesied and that this prophecy must be fulfilled. Like Peter, we want to spare Jesus his suffering, so we construct images, stories, whole theologies about Jesus that spare him the indignities of the whip and the cross. But to deny that he suffered for us is to deny both who he is and what he has done. Peter is tested. So are we. Peter's faith is weighed and measured. And so is ours. Jesus wants to know that we know both who is he—the Christ—and he has done for us—suffered, died, and rose again. To be the Messiah promised by the prophets is to be the One who takes on the sin of the world. We cannot tempt him to be otherwise. For the sake of our salvation, we cannot sugarcoat, paint over, or wish away the ugly brutality of the Passion or the crucifixion. Through his death on the cross, we come to God's glory with Christ on Easter morning.

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

16 February 2011

Coffee Cup Browsing


Nice article on the Vatican's astronomer. . .

More adolescent clerical attention-seeking behavior.  The only reason for a priest to do something like this is to draw attention to himself.  He'll have a book out next month and then start making the Heretic Circuit (Call to Action, VOTF, etc.).

LifeSiteNews (a pro-life site based in Canada) is being sued by a dissident priest.  This lawsuit probably wouldn't make it very far in the U.S. legal system, but Canada's system is stacked with anti-Catholic ideologues and anti-free speech activists who hide behind "hate crime" laws.

What church-burnings, executions of Christians, and Muslim rage at Christian evangelization tells us about Islam.

Abuse scandals continue to roll out in Philly.  I would comment on this crisis, but what I have to say is not only not fit for a Christian blog but it would probably get me silenced as well.  And deservedly so.


Lefty website goes on a racist rant against conservative black politician, Herman Cain.

It's the spoons that done made me fat!  


Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

What if I don't want to see the Light?

6th Week OT (W)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula

The early Fathers of the Church were deeply influenced by a philosophical system called neo-Platonism. Basically, this system is a revised version of Plato's views on reality and how we come to understand that reality. Compared to today's highly technical, nearly mathematical philosophies, neo-Platonism might be better described as literature, that is, a literary or imaginative way of getting at what's really real and how we know it. One of the key doctrines of neo-Platonism is that humans are enlightened by the divine, the darkness of our ignorance is illuminated by divine light. In the capable hands of our Church Fathers, “illumination of ignorance” becomes a metaphor for “salvation by Christ's light.” When Jesus heals the blindness of some poor soul, he is not only curing them of a physical deficiency, he's bringing them toward salvation as well. Given all of this, why does it take Jesus two times to heal the blind man in today's gospel? Why didn't he get it right the first time? Like the healing of a physical injury, the healing of the injury to our relationship with God is not always a “one and done” deal. Coming back to God takes some work on our part.

Catholics recognize that “getting right with Jesus” is not simply a matter of “accepting Jesus into your heart as your personal lord and savior.” Salvation is not a switch with an on and off position. Nor is salvation like pregnancy: either you are or you aren't. A well-worn metaphor for salvation is the Difficult Path, a long, treacherous road that leads from the valley to the mountaintop. Starting the hike to the top is not the same as being at the top. Another good metaphor is the Party Invitation. God sends out invitations to His heavenly banquet, inviting everyone to party with Him forever. Some accept and arrive on-time. Others accept but never get there. Others toss the invitation and still others reject it outright. What's common to all these metaphors is the idea that we are free to come to God or not. We can start the hike, continue on, and arrive safely—with God's help. Or we can stay in the valley or head back down the mountain if we want. Same goes for the invitation. We are invited to attend the party; we are not compelled. Salvation like healing can be a long, painful process b/c the work—the day to day labor—of being healed, of being saved is our work, how we choose to follow the orders of the Divine Physician.

The blind man is probably not healed the first time b/c he didn't receive Jesus' healing for what it is: a gift. All sorts of perfectly reasonable objections to being healed probably popped up in the man's mind. If I am healed, I won't be able to beg in order to make a living. I'm used to being blind; it's who I am. Do I really want to see the world such as it is? As sinners, we make many of the same sorts of objections to being saved. I really like my favorite sins; I don't want to give them up. I'll be ridiculed at work if anyone finds out that I'm a Christian. Being charitable, hopeful, faithful is difficult. God demands way too much! And so, salvation comes slowly. The light of Christ creeps in, around the edges, and it slowly dawns on us that living in God's love is the only way to live. Once we realize that God's love shines constantly, that the light of His mercy never sets, and we stop testing the limits of our hope in Christ, we open the door to our heart and receive His light. Opening that door is our work, the day to day labor of allowing Christ to illuminate every dark corner, every dark crevice of our broken and bleeding lives. The greatest sacrifice we can make to God is the sacrifice of our repentant hearts. That's the key that opens every locked door, the switch that turns on all the lights.

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

15 February 2011

Coffee Cup Browsing

Controversy Italian-style over the modernist tilt in new church designs.  The Church of Jesus the Redeemer in Modena, Italy is taking the brunt of the attack.   Ugly, yes.  But much, much better than some of the "Social Security Office" styles I've seen in the US.

Here's another church targeted for criticism.  The Borg has landed in Italy!  Take a minute or two to look around this guy's site.  His religious designs are indistinguishable from his secular designs.


Mysterious manuscript written in an untranslatable code dated to the 15th century.  You just know that some stoner grad student spent a weekend doodling nonsense on his roomie's last pack of parchment paper, knowing that centuries later we'd be trying to figure it all out.

The definition of regret:  Shirley Sherrod sues Andrew Breitbart.  Shirley's phone has been ringing off the wall with calls from D.C.  "Drop this suit!"

BOO!  Is the "Spirit of Vatican Two" is waning?  Yes.  Deo gratis.  The "rebellion in the nursing home" that erupted (?) last week in Germany can be counted as one of the last sighs of the '68 generation in the Church.  Again, Deo gratis.



Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

14 February 2011

(More) Prayers, please. . .

. . .for my maternal grandfather, Clyde Mitchell.  He's 98 y.o.  Over the weekend, he had another mild heart attack in the nursing home. 

Thanks!

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

On strokes and MRI's (UPDATED)

Prayers, please. . .

Had a weird episode during Mass last Thursday.  It was sort of like a mini-blackout.  I did the fraction rite and went right to the priest's communion, skipping over everything in between.  I realized the omission only after giving communion to the servers.  Took me a second to recover.  After I got back home, the right side of my face, my right arm and hand were tingly/numb.  My BP was extremely high.  

Anyway, the tingling/numbness stayed with me all weekend, though just barely noticeable.  Went to see my doc this morning and he ruled out a bleeder-stroke but not a TIA.  He also wants me tested for MS.  Ugh.

Off for an MRI this afternoon and an ultrasound tomorrow.  

UPDATE:  A biblical image for you. . .two nurses trying to stuff me into an MRI machine. . .camel through the eye of a needle?  Yup.  Had to reschedule to use the Big Boy Machine.  

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

God doesn't run an insurance company

Ss. Cyril and Methodius
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula

I won't ask for a show of hands. . .but how many of us have said something like: “Lord, please give me a sign so that I will know what to do?” I'll raise my hand. From about 1981 until 1999, I prayed to God that He send me an unambiguous sign that He wanted me to be a priest. Never got one. Instead, what I got from Him was a message—delivered oh-so-painfully—that said, “Hey, here's an idea: how about an unambiguous sign from you that you're ready to become a priest?” What?! You mean I have to give You a sign? You mean I have to commit to this whole priest thing in order to know for sure if it's what You want from me? Yup. Unless you choose to trust Me, how will you know that a sign from Me is a sign from Me? I've been sending you signs for seventeen years, but you didn't recognize them as signs. So, I've been getting exactly what I prayed for all this time. . .but didn't know it? And said, “Duh. Yeah.” Like me (and you too, probably), the Pharisees have been given enough signs that Jesus is exactly who he says he is, but signs are meant to be read. If you can't read, all the signs in the world can't direct you, every sign in the universe won't help you. The key to spiritual literacy is trust in God. Without trust, we are spiritually illiterate.

Why are the scribes and Pharisees spiritually illiterate? Probably the most significant reason is that they have—over the generations—built up a religious tradition that demands physical evidence of God's will before they trust in Him. This shouldn't be surprising. After all, God appeared in a burning bush; gave them the commandments carved in stone; He lead them out of slavery in Egypt by parting the Red Sea, sending them pillars of smoke and fire; and provided them with manna from heaven to eat and water from a rock to drink. All tangible, easily interpreted signs of His presence. The scribes and Pharisees follow the rules and wait for more signs. So, asking Jesus for a sign that he is the Messiah comes naturally for them. But Jesus, “No sign will be given to this generation.” Probably b/c they wouldn't be able to read it anyway.

If you've been praying for a sign and you haven't gotten it yet, ask yourself: would I recognize a sign from God if I got one? And if I got one, would I be able to read it? Here's an even better question: if I trust in God to provide for all I need, trust in Him to be with me through hell and high water, what difference would a sign make? Trust is not based on evidence. In fact, the very definition of trust includes the idea that we believe in, have faith in something or someone in the absence of supporting evidence! How many times have you heard someone say, “Of course I trust my husband/wife/kids/friends. . .but I need to be sure, I need proof”? That's not trust. That's insurance. And God is not the CEO of an insurance company. He doesn't issue policies against disasters in exchange for premium payments. God provides, and we trust Him to do so. With trust in Him comes spiritual literacy and everything becomes a legible sign of His good will, His love for us.

If you are asking for a sign, ask yourself why. Why am I asking for a sign? Am I anxious? Am I demanding proof? Am I waiting to see which path is easier? When faced with a choice, ask yourself, which choice will bring me closer to God? Which path will help me to grow in holiness? Become more charitable? More peaceful? God provides. He will bless your choice, giving you all the grace you need to come to Him perfected in Christ. So, give Him a sign that you are ready to receive all that He has to give.


Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

13 February 2011

Comets, Zombies, & Righteousness

6th Sunday OT
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula

A comet slams into the earth, causing massive earthquakes, tidal waves, firestorms: the comprehensive collapse of human civilization and the beginning of a new Ice Age. A few, small pockets of humanity manage to survive—those living on mountain ranges and far from the coasts. Each community fights to survive. They must find food, clean water, medical care. There is no law, no church, no military, nothing left to guide the survivors but raw, individual instinct and the will of the strongest among them. Some few still talk about right and wrong, some few still invoke the name of God, or the authority of the Bible, and some even appeal to reason when the more savage choices have to be made. But who is God? What is the Bible? Where is reason? Six billion people have been reduced to a few hundred scattered across the world. The choice is live or die. What I have just described is the plot of one of the very first novels I read as a kid, Lucifer's Hammer, published in 1977. From the moment I opened the cover of this book, I was hooked on Doomsday fiction, apocalyptic literature. Of course, what I described could be the plot of just about every disaster movie made since the 1950's. Hollywood is still making Doomsday movies—2012, The Road, Independence Day—and they've been diligent in producing my favorite Doomsday sub-genre, the Zombie Apocalypse movie! Why do these sorts of stories fascinate us? What is it about the collapse of civilization and the destruction of humanity that appeals to us? Here's a guess: we want to know what might happen if there were no rules, no law, no consequences. Could we be moral without the threat of punishment?

Now, you have to be wondering what zombie movies and novels about comets have to do with the gospel. Besides the fact that Jesus is talking about Judgment Day—who enters the Kingdom and who doesn't—we have in the gospel a lengthy lesson on what it means to be a moral person. Jesus is teaching on the Law: how he has come not to abolish it but to fulfill it. In the longer version of the reading, he says, “. . .until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law. . .” He goes on to warn that anyone who breaks the commandments will not enter the Kingdom. However, those who obey the Law will be the greatest in the Kingdom. So, to be a moral person, a person held in high esteem among the hosts of Heaven, you must obey the Law. Sounds straightforward enough. But then Jesus does what he does best. He throws a curve, adding, “I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” You should understand immediately that the scribes and Pharisees were renowned for their obedience of the Law. But here Jesus tells his disciples that their righteousness must surpass that of the scribes and Pharisees. Mere compliance is not enough. Something more is required.

In the shorter version of the reading, we have three examples of how our righteousness can surpass the righteousness of mere compliance. Jesus uses murder, adultery, and oath-breaking to illustrate his point. Under the Law, killing another person, sex with someone who isn't your spouse, and swearing a false oath are all grave sins. The Law outlaws these behaviors. The act of murder, the act of adultery, the act of swearing a false oath are all forbidden. Since Jesus did not come to abolish the Law but to fulfill it, he teaches the disciples that these behaviors remain sinful. However, good behavior does not produce surpassing righteousness. Something more is required. He says, “You have heard it said, 'You shall not kill; You shall not commit adultery; Do not take a false oath.' But I say to you, do not be angry; do not lust after another' and let your 'yes' mean yes and your 'no' mean no.” Surpassing righteousness springs from a clean heart as well as clean hands, from both a pure spirit and a pure body. You refrain from murdering your neighbors. . .but do you refrain from hating them? You refrain from committing adultery. . .but do you refrain from lust? You refrain from swearing false oaths. . .but is your word alone honorable? Actions are born from intentions. And pure intent is the mother of righteousness.

For all that he teaches us about living in right relationship with God, Jesus has nothing at all to say about living through the Coming Zombie Apocalypse. He really doesn't say much about Global Warming—er, I mean “climate change”—or nuclear annihilation, or the devastation of a global virus outbreak. All he has to say about the End Times is that on the Day of Judgment, the goats and sheep will be divided. The goats will be tossed into the fire, the sheep raised up to heaven. If you want to be among the sheep, live now in surpassing righteousness. If you prefer to be a goat, then revel in hatred, anger, lust, adultery; worship false gods, refuse to help those in need; basically, believe and behave as though the only thing that matters to you is your survival. Given the choice to live or die, what won't you do? In the movie, The Road, a man and his son travel the roads of an unnamed country after the world has been more or less destroyed. There are no animals, very little clean water, no plant life; nothing resembling the rule of law except the sort of rule that comes from the barrel of a gun. The man and the boy spend their time scrounging for canned food, bottled water, and sleeping under pieces of plastic. When they are awake, they have to run and hide from gangs of roving cannibals. Along the way, the man tries to teach the boy about hope. The boy listens and learns. But every time their lives are threatened, the man abandons hope and resorts to surviving by any means necessary. The boy notices the contradiction and wonders if his father genuinely nurtures any hope at all. This movie (and the novel it's based on) provide us with an opportunity to see what happens when the power of the law to rule humanity is destroyed. How do we behave when there is no law, no church, no military, nothing to guide us, nothing to reward or punish us? If our movies and novels are any indication of what most of us would do, then we are in deep trouble. A life of surpassing righteousness can never be about mere survival; it is a life lived in constant hope.

And hope—like faith and love—is a virtue, a good habit. If hope is to be a constant in your life, a rock-solid, bottom-line reality, then your answer to God's call to holiness is going to have to be Yes. Let that “Yes” mean yes. If your “Yes” means “Maybe,” or “When I can,” or “If it's convenient at the moment,” or “When things are good,” then your “Yes” means No and that is from the Evil One. Hope is a choice. Sirach says, “If you choose you can keep the commandments. . .if you trust in God. . .He has set before you fire and water to whichever you choose. . .Before man are life and death, good and evil, whichever he chooses shall be given him.” Choose to listen and obey. Choose to trust and love. Choose life and goodness. Immense is the wisdom of the Lord! Choose His surpassing righteousness as your own and live in constant hope. Let your “Yes” to His invitation mean Yes. In the face of unemployment, sickness, a death in the family, comets, zombies, nuclear annihilation, whatever comes, let your “Yes” mean yes. Whether you are preparing your taxes, walking on the beach, dating your high school sweetheart, or trying to save your marriage, let your “Yes” to God's righteousness mean Yes. Anything else is from Evil One.


Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

12 February 2011

Bread, fish, and the sacramental imagination

5th Week OT (S)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula

Those of us who have grown up in the Protestant South have heard all our lives that Catholics do not revere the Bible. Catholics prefer performing strange rituals, marching around in elaborate costumes, lighting candles and incense, and muttering to statues in a dead language. Even today, my Protestant friends distinguish between “Catholics” and “Bible Christians,” using the two words as if there is no connection between the two, no overlap. What my friends fail to grasp is the concept of the sacramental imagination. In an interview, George Weigel, the biographer of Pope John Paul II, offers a description of the Catholic way of seeing God's creation. He says, “. . .the world has been configured by God in a 'sacramental' way, i.e., the things of this 'real world' can disclose the really real world of God's love and grace. The Catholic 'sacramental imagination' sees in the stuff of this world hints and traces of the creator, redeemer, and sanctifier of the world. . .” This morning's gospel reading from Mark—the well-known story of the feeding of the 4,000—gives us a chance to hear Jesus himself teaching us how to view his Father's creation sacramentally. A few loaves of bread and a few fish, blessed by Christ, feed a huge crowd. The unexpected generosity of God miraculously feeds the bodies of those who follow His son. Those fed have witnessed the love and grace of God in an otherwise ordinary, everyday activity: eating dinner. The Catholic sacramental imagination turns the ordinary into the extraordinary, revealing God's presence in His creation.

We have no reason to believe that the miracle described by Mark didn't happen exactly like Mark describes it—four thousand people are fed with just a few loaves of bread and a few fish. But let's read the story as a story about the everyday lives of Christians struggling to faithfully live out their baptismal vows. Jesus sees the trials of those who follow after him. He hears all about how we are alienated from God by sin; how we suffer from temptation, disease, persecution; how we hunger and thirst for righteousness and truth; how we strain to be merciful, loving, true to all his commands. Watching us day to day, Jesus says, “My heart is moved with pity for [you]. . .If I send [you] away hungry to [your] homes, [you] will collapse on the way. . .” We've come a long way out of the world to join the crowds that follow Jesus. He's never pretended that following him is easy. He's never lied to us and told us that being faithful is as simple as performing a few rituals or lighting a few candles or muttering prayers before a statue. We have chosen a very difficult way of living in God's creation. But He will not leave us tired and hungry. He takes the bread, blesses it, and gives it to us to eat. 

One piece of bread becomes two. And two becomes four. Four, eight. And because this bread is also his body—both human and divine—we are fed physically and spiritually. The things of the “real world” (bread, wine, oil, water) can reveal the really real world of God's love and grace. The sacramental imagination is a biblical way of living in God's world—seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling His presence, and gaining strength in body and spirit as we notice Him and give Him thanks for being with us always. 

The Psalmist writes, “In every age, Lord, you have been our refuge.” Hungry, thirsty, blind, deaf, afraid—we take refuge in God and find all that we need to succeed in His Christ.

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

10 February 2011

Be grateful, dog!

St. Scholastica
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula

Let's start this homily off with a rather blunt assertion: No, the Greek woman in this evening's gospel does not teach Jesus a lesson about inclusivity nor does she “open his eyes” to the needs of the Gentiles. To believe that the woman somehow enlightens our Lord with a clever retort assumes that Jesus—the incarnated Son of God—doesn't know about or understand his universal mission as the Messiah. It makes more sense—given what we know from the other gospels—to conclude that Jesus slowly reveals the fullness of his mission over time. He repeatedly orders those whom he healed to keep their healing a secret. He also refuses to perform miracles on occasion and sometimes takes his disciples off to teach them in private. These examples seem to indicate that though Jesus wants his identity widely known, he also wants to keep the exact nature of his ministry something a mystery. . .at least until his earthly ministry comes to an end on the cross. If all of this is true, then what are we to make of his exchange with the Greek woman? Like in the story of the centurion with the sick slave, the story of the Canaanite woman, the story of the man born blind, and many others—Jesus is challenging the Greek woman to publicly declare her faith, to lay claim to her inheritance as a child of God.

And what is this inheritance? Generally, she has inherited the privilege of prayer, that is, the grace to approach the Father through His Son and ask for what she needs for herself and her family. As a member of God's family, she has access to the Father. She has been gifted with the desire to praise Him, to thank Him, and to grow spiritually while doing so. By openly, freely acknowledging her trust in God's promises, the Greek woman openly, freely acknowledges God's power to accomplish in her life and the lives of her loved ones every good they need to thrive as holy creatures. We know all of this to be true b/c the moment she says to Jesus, “Lord, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s scraps,” the demon is exorcised from her daughter. 

Let's take note of not only the woman's admission of faith but also how she characterizes herself and her fellow Gentiles—all of those who need God's mercy through Christ. Rather than rear up in righteous indignation at Jesus' apparent insult—calling them “dogs”—the woman takes on the derisive label and admits to Jesus that “even the dogs” get scraps! This isn't exaggeration or just plain ole self-effacement. She is confessing genuine humility. Had she been playing word games with Jesus or trying to teach him a lesson, her confession of faith would have been emptied out and her daughter would not have been freed from the demon. What our Lord hears in the woman's plea is authentic love, authentic faith, and authentic humility—all gifts from the Father. These are what make her a member of God's family not her tribe or race or nation. 

The Greek woman recognizes and publicly acknowledges her need for God's blessings. As children of God, we too have access to the Father through Christ. When you pray, do you pray with genuine love, faith, and humility? Do you receive God's blessings with gratitude, openly and freely acknowledging your dependence on Him? When blessed by God as a child of God, do you multiply your blessings by sharing them with others? Let's hope so. Remember: even the dogs eat the children's scraps.

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

09 February 2011

Confession App is NOT a Substitute for the Sacrament

Is there anything iPhone apps can't do?  

Recently, an app appeared on the market that helps Catholics make a thorough confession.  I've not seen the app. . .mostly b/c I don't have an iPhone.  But Fr. Z. has posted a review.  He notes that the app is "useful but flawed."  

My worry about the app echoes his:  media reports of the app confuse the fullness of the sacrament of reconciliation with the necessary preparations one makes in approaching the sacrament.  Headlines all over the web blare out nonsense like "Vatican Approves iPhone App for Confession" and "Can't Make It to Confession?  There's an app for that!"  

No.  There isn't.

The app is nothing more than an aid for preparing one's conscience for making a good confession and completing the assigned penance.  It cannot substitute for the sacrament b/c only a validly ordained priest can absolve sins. 

Of course, Catholics who regularly make use of The Box know this.  But some might easily be deceived into thinking that checking little boxes on their iPhone and reciting the appropriate prayers will substitute for sacramental confession.  It will not.

So, if you need help examining your conscience and remembering the prayers associated with confession, get a copy of the app.  Use it.  Then find a priest and finish the job!

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

08 February 2011

Coffee Cup Browsing

Suckers! Lib bloggers betrayed by HuffPo.  "Who knew that the website devoted to a living wage and moral imperatives actually managed to get liberal bloggers to work for free to make money for the boss-lady and her investment banking investors." 

Anti-capitalist "filmmaker" sues to get a bigger piece of the profits. 

Zzzzzz. . .  German theologians get all edgy and relevant while floundering in the tar pit of 1973.  MCJ has a little fun with the dinos before they go under.

Still Zzzzzzzz. . .Anne Rice belches out some anti-Catholic bigotry that's mistaken for enlightened discourse.  My guess:  she's still talking/writing about the Church b/c she knows she belongs in the Church.  Come on, Anne!  Join the rest of us freaks and lunatics and really mean it this time!

Prophets in their minds. . .NB.  About 99% of ecclesial dissidents describe themselves as "prophetic."  Yea, the Devil thinks of himself as a prophetic too.  Turns out, he is. . .just not in the way he thinks.

Teen Angst:  "The average high school kid today has the same level of anxiety as the average psychiatric patient in the early 1950s."  I blame Helicopter Parenting, social networking, and Starbucks.

Horseman of the Apocalypse?  Naw.  Looks like a smear from the camera. 

The "sacred values" of sociologists, psychologists, and anthropologists:  social scientists form a "tribal-moral community" around leftist ideology.  He could've included theologians in his conclusions.

Height matters at the local Mexican restaurant.


What normal people will do during the Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

07 February 2011

Icon of the Goodness of Creation

5th Week OT (M)
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St. Joseph Church, Ponchatula, LA

What do we hear when we hear read together the opening verses of the Bible—“In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth. . .” and Mark's account of Jesus healing the sick on the shores of a sea near Gennesaret? On first hearing the two read together we might think that the lectionary cycle had been spun like a roulette wheel and these two very different readings just happened to land on this day's Mass schedule. How else could the Bible's best known chapter end up paired with a few innocuous verses from the smallest gospel? While pondering this mystery, it would help us to remember an ancient Catholic principle of biblical interpretation: the New Testament fulfills the Old; each of the Bible's testaments to God's covenants explains the other. When Jesus heals the sick in the land of Gennesaret, he heals his Father's creatures, returning them to their originating goodness. As many as touched the tassel of Jesus' cloak were healed, and he saw that it was good. God did not create us to suffer nor did he create us to die. And when we return to Him through Christ, we are healed and the goodness from which we were created is restored to us.

There's another connection between the creation story of Genesis and Mark's account of Jesus healing the sick in Gennesaret. The Jewish historian, Josephus, describes the land of Gennesaret as "wonderful in fertility as well as in beauty." Ancient readers and hearers of Mark's gospel story would immediately associate Gennesaret with images of the Garden of Eden, the original paradise of creation. Josephus writes, “[Gennesaret's] soil is so fruitful that all sorts of trees can grow upon it . . . for the air is so well tempered that it agrees with all sorts. Thus the palm-tree, which requires a warm atmosphere, flourishes equally well with the walnut, which thrives best in a cold climate. . .” This is exactly the sort of fertile balance that we would expect from a land undefiled by sin, from a place unmarked by the imbalances of sickness and death. Knowing that Gennesaret in Jesus' time was known to be a paradise of fertility and fruitfulness, we can easily imagine that the goodness Jesus restores in healing the sick is the original goodness of his Father's creating love. 

If Adam, the first man, lost God's original goodness by an act of disobedience, then Jesus, the first and only God-Man restores that goodness by an act of obedience. Jesus restores us not only by freely dying on the cross for us, but also by living among us as an icon of the goodness of creation, as a window through which we see and hear God's creating and re-creating love. He arrives in Gennesaret—fertile and fruitful—and his presence, just being there, heals, makes whole again, the broken and diseased creatures that his Father created to be good. Christ fulfills God's promise—made at the moment of creation to all that He has created—that His love will endure to the very end. Though we may suffer now and die later, we are not made so that we might suffer and die. 

Jesus is the icon of the goodness of creation. We, his Body, the Church, live as that icon now. Healed of our disobedience, restored to our originating goodness, wherever we go, we too are charged with making whole again everyone we touch, everyone who touches us. May the Lord be glad in His works. And when He looks at His people, may He say again, “It is good.”

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->

06 February 2011

On homilies & books

Been getting good feedback on my Ponchatula Homilies.  It's something of a challenge to craft useful homilies for a parish audience, but I'm enjoying it immensely. 

Mille grazie to Jenny K. for the Kindle Book!  I'm learning all sorts of great things about the Roman Empire.
 
Also, the Wish List has been updated with a strange mixture of poetry, continental philosophy, and theology.  My reading list for the summer has shifted somewhat more toward 20th century literature.

Follow HancAquam & Check out my Wish List --------->