07 June 2013

as terrible as an army with banners

I confess: I'm not a big fan of Chesterton. (GASP!) I know, I know. . .50 lashes and no dessert for a week.  

I find his style just a tad. . .what?. . .contrived? The rapid-fire parallelisms, the easy rotations of adjectives to make a cute point: "It's not that X is Y, but Y is X."

I dunno. Whatever IT is, it isn't found in the quotation below, a quotation from his famous book, Orthodoxy

Christianity came into the world firstly in order to assert with violence that a man had not only to look inwards, but to look outwards, to behold with astonishment and enthusiasm a divine company and a divine captain. The only fun of being a Christian was that a man was not left alone with the Inner Light, but definitely recognized an outer light, fair as the sun, clear as the moon, terrible as an army with banners. 

Here he's offering a critique of Stoicism, a philosophy that could seduce me so easily. . .being an Introvert and all.  He urges Modern Man to worship anything but his Inner Light b/c worshiping the Inner Light too quickly becomes Self worship. If you can't/won't worship the Lord your God, then worship cats or crocodiles. . .anything but one's Inner Light.

Oh. Why am I posting this quotation?  It will very likely appear in this Sunday's homily.
______________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

Doctrinal Homily Outlines

The USCCB's new document on preaching, Preaching the Mystery of Faith, teaches:

". . .the homilist of today must realize that he is addressing a congregation that is more culturally diverse than previously, one that is profoundly affected by the surrounding secular agenda and, in many instances, inadequately catechized. The Church’s rich theological, doctrinal, and catechetical tradition must therefore properly inform the preaching task in its liturgical setting. . ."

To help with this seemingly daunting task, Kevin Aldrich runs a blog called Doctrinal Homily Outlines

Check it out and use with abandon!
_____________
 
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

06 June 2013

Loving Neighbors = Loving God

9th Week OT (Th) 
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP 
St. Dominic Church, NOLA 

The scribe who asks Jesus for the first commandment gets a two-fer. He not only recites the first commandment, he teaches its meaning for us mere mortals. To answer the man's question, Jesus quotes the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy, “Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone!” This familiar proclamation of God's sovereignty is enforced by the admonition, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,” soul, mind, and strength. If the God of Israel is Israel's lord alone—that is, Israel has no other gods—then the hearts, minds, souls, and strength of Israel's people cannot be divided among various and sundry deities. Everything we've got goes into the love and honor we give to God alone. If Jesus had stopped here, no one listening to him would've been all that impressed. He's simply reciting what every child in the nation learned as a matter of course. What Jesus does next is unusual. He recites a verse from nineteenth chapter of Leviticus as a corollary to the first commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” What does loving God alone have to do with loving our neighbors? 

Lest we think that Jesus just added that verse from Leviticus as an afterthought, listen again to how he ties the first commandment to the second, “There is no other commandment greater than these.” Both commandments are great, no other commandments are greater. I said earlier that adding the quotation from Leviticus in the context of the scribe's question is unusual. The first commandment Jesus quotes is from a lengthy commentary on the 10 Commandments found in Deuteronomy. The second law is a quote from Leviticus, found in a list of various rules for good conduct. Immediately after the rule about loving your neighbor as yourself, Leviticus admonishes against interbreeding different species of animals and against planting fields with different kinds of seeds. Obviously, there's a big difference in the OT btw two laws that Jesus quotes. One is the first commandment of the 10 Commandments, the other is just one of many various rules of conduct. By bringing the two together and dubbing them the Greatest Commandments, Jesus gives practical, real-life force to both. Loving God means loving our neighbors; loving our neighbors is how we show that we love God. There can be no merely abstract or conceptual love for God. If you don't love your neighbors, you do not love God. 

We might not be all that impressed by the originality of this combination—we've heard it before—but the scribe is very impressed by Jesus' teaching. He's so impressed that he praises the Lord, noting that loving God and neighbor is “worth more than all burnt offerings and sacrifices.” Jesus sees that the scribe understands the connection btw the two laws and says to him, “You are not far from the Kingdom of God.” Do we truly understand how loving God and neighbor is worth more than all of our sacrifices, all of our prayers? What is sacrifice and prayer but an expression of our love for and faith in God? We are only able to love b/c God loves us first. When we love one another, we participate in the divine love that God Himself gives us. In effect, we are the rational, flesh and bone means of God loving His creation. A failure to love is more than just a personal flaw, it's a failure to take part in the divine life we have vowed to live. We call it by the innocuous name “lack of charity,” but lacking in charity can cause the death of the soul; it's a mortal sin, a mortal wound to our relationship with God. This is why Jesus calls these two laws the greatest commandments. Violate them and risk an eternity excluded from God; obey them and see yourself ever closer to the Kingdom of God.
___________________
 
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

05 June 2013

Dogs of God Bark the Gospel!

NB. Adapted from 2008.

St. Boniface (Readings for the Memorial) 
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP 
St Dominic Church, NOLA 

One of the Vesper’s petitions from the Commons for Martyr’s goes something like this: “Lord, hold us fast to preaching the gospel even in the face of opposition, persecution, and scorn.” Christian preachers are often tempted to let go of the Gospel when confronted by entrenched opposition. Like water seeking the fastest and easiest route downhill, preachers are coaxed toward taking the most direct path to the dilution of Christ’s teaching and, ultimately, a betrayal of the Spirit that animates us. We see and hear this when preachers begin preaching a Prosperity Gospel—Jesus wants you to be rich!—; or when they begin preaching a Zeitgeist Gospel—Jesus wants us to “fit in” with our times so we can witness from within;—or when you hear the Gospel of Identity Politics—being American, Black, Gay, Male or Female, Left or Right is preached to be more important than being faithful to Christ. All of these, of course, are dodges, ways around the difficult demands of what Jesus teaches us to be and do. They allow us to sift out the hard stuff and celebrate that which most tickles our bored ears. True martyrs (not self-appointed martyrs) present us with an extraordinarily hard reality: they believe the Gospel and die proclaiming it. Could we do the same if called upon to do so? 

St. Boniface, an eighth-century English Benedictine bishop and martyr who served as a missionary to Germany, wrote to a friend, “Let us be neither dogs that do not bark nor silent on-lookers nor paid servants who run away before the wolf…Let us preach the whole of God’s plan…in season and out of season.”* Though this sounds benign enough, Boniface died doing it, or rather died because he did it—he barked and refused to be hired as a religious P.R. man for Zeitgeist, Inc. Paul found himself in a similar position. Paul reports in Acts that he was seized by the Jewish leaders in the temple and almost killed because “[he] preached the need to repent and turn to God, and to do works giving evidence of repentance.” Should we be shocked that Paul would find himself the target of the powers-that-be? Not really. Jesus warned his disciples that they would follow him to the cross if they persisted in preaching his word. And it is persistence that most often gets the Gospel preacher and believer into trouble. 

Jesus says, “A hired man, who is not a shepherd…sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away…” The wolf attacks the sheep, killing one or two and scattering the rest. Why does the hired man run? Jesus says, “This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.” A preacher hired by Zeitgeist, Inc. will do the same—cut and run when it looks as though the wolves of persecution, opposition, and scorn come bounding down the hill. The good shepherd will stay and fight. And though he will never lose, he may sometimes die. 

There’s almost no chance that anyone here this evening will be called upon to die for preaching the Gospel.** In the U.S. in the 21st century, the Zeitgeist has learned more subtle ways of tempting us away from the Good Shepherd. Perhaps the most powerful temptation comes from the devil of freedom, or more accurately named, the devil of choice. Dangling before us the illusion of unfettered choice in a marketplace of unlimited options, the devil of liberty coaxes us with a powerful sense of entitlement, a sense of being owed our comfort, our liberty. And so, we stand dumbfounded in the Wal-Marts of religious goods and services, the Winn-Dixies of spiritual options, and we pick and choose. I will preach mercy but not justice; love but not responsibility; forgiveness but not sin. I will preach heaven but not hell; faith but not obedience. With a shopping cart full of our hodge-podge choices, we check-out and pay with our souls, and then go out preaching a gospel half-bought. If our souls must be the currency with which we purchase a spiritual good, let that purchase be our eternal lives with Christ. As the Dogs of God, we can do nothing less than die while ferociously barking the Gospel just as Jesus taught it.

* from the Office of Readings, St. Boniface
** I wrote that sentence in 2008.  Five years later. . .I'm not so sure anymore.
________________
 
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

03 June 2013

We don't live rent-free in God's head

Charles Lwanga and Companions 
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP 
St. Dominic Church, NOLA 

Jesus uses the parable of the wicked tenants to retell the story of Israel's turbulent history with God. In a tidy paragraph or so Jesus manages to summarize: 1) the essential relationship btw God and Israel (owner to renter); 2) the repeated failure of Israel to live up to the terms of the lease agreement (refusing to turn over God's share of the harvest); 3) their abuse of God's agents sent to procure His share (rejection of the prophets); and 4) their abuse and murder of the God's son in an failed attempt to steal his inheritance (the Passion and death of Christ). Sad but true: the tenants' behavior probably doesn't shock us. We're all too used to hearing about this sort thing from our fellow human beings. What should shock us, what I hope shocks us, or at least baffles us a little, is God's apparently relentless drive to get His people to hold up their end of the Covenant. Given their repeated fall from His grace and their stubborn refusal to accept His Word, why does God—over and over again—lift them back up, set them back on track, and bless them abundantly despite their disobedience? Why does He do this for us? For you? 

The one word answer here could be: love. He loves us. True. God is love, so it is His nature to forgive and bless. And His patience with our disobedience is surely a by-product of His loving nature. But if forgiveness were just about His love for us, then why do we care if we've sinned against Him? I mean, if we know that He will forgive us everything we do, why does sin bother us? A big part of the answer here is that we love God, so disobeying Him can be painful, spiritually harmful and we feel it. But there's another element at play here that we might not readily call to mind. God's patience with our sin presupposes that we are rational animals; that is, He's patient with us b/c He knows that we are capable of responding to His love rationally, deliberately. Given time with His divine gift of love, we can reason our way out of the habit of disobedience; we are capable of learning not to sin, learning to receive His grace, and working with those received graces to come closer to His perfect Love. Over time, we come to see that sin is not only a violation of divine love, it is also an irrational reaction to the divine word, the Law of Love that Christ himself gives us. The wicked tenants are wicked b/c of their greed, but their greed—given the generosity of the vineyard owner—is irrational, not just illogical, but unreasoning. 

We have long since lost any sense at all that irrational thinking or behavior is a sin. In fact, in our postmodern culture, right reason is considered oppressively patriarchal. “Logic” is not longer logical and “reason” is just an evil way to suppress the glories of emotions. But as followers of Christ the Logos, we are partakers in the divine life, the life of the Blessed Trinity that provides Rightness, Order, Reason, and Truth to the whole of creation. If the wicked tenants had exercised their minds rather than their passions, they might've come to their perfection w/o the threat of death hanging over their heads. Can we say the same? Why do we wait for that nagging sense of guilt to drag us into the confessional? Why do we persist in habitual sin, knowing what it does to our growth in holiness? Why do we refuse to bend our necks to most reasonable rules and treat our freedom in Christ as a license to sin? We can blame passion. But let's put the blame where it belongs: we are being irrational. Not only are we not “feeling right,” we're not thinking right, preferring to indulge the animal part of our nature and letting the rational part wither. Fortunately, God's love for us entails being patient with our thick heads. So, while we enjoy His mercy, let's work on our right reason and make the deliberate choice to live in His love rationally. 
_____________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

Coffee Cup Browsing

Not good at all:  riots in Turkey. One of the few Muslim-dominated democracies in that region. 

Yup: ". . .when a scandal is systemic, ideological and focused on political ends, it will not just magically end."




Francis quoting Paul VI: ". . .you cannot advance the Gospel with sad, hopeless, discouraged Christians. You cannot."

_______________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

02 June 2013

“to impress the vastness of [His] love more firmly upon the hearts of the faithful…”

NB. Deacons are preaching this weekend.  Here's a version of a 2005 homily that I've reposted a few times over the years and actually preached last year at St Dominic.

Solemnity of Corpus Christi (2012)
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St. Dominic Church, NOLA
   

These are a few of my favorite things: Buttermilk dripped and deep-fried chicken. Butter beans with bacon and onions. Garlic mashed potatoes with chicken gravy. Greens with fatback and vinegar. Squash casserole, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole with a pecan and brown sugar crust. Deviled eggs. Warm biscuits. Homemade, cast-iron skillet cornbread with real butter. Fresh yeast rolls. Pecan pie. Chocolate pie. Mississippi Mud Cake. Bread pudding with whiskey sauce. Can you tell I’m a true blood Southerner?! Each of these and all of them together do more than just expand my waistline and threaten the structural integrity of my belt—each and all of them together make up for me a palette of memories, a buffet (if you will!) of powerful reminders of who I am, where I came from, who I love, who loves me, and where I am going. Second perhaps only to sex, eating is one of the most intimate things we do. Think about it for just a second: when you eat, you take into your body stuff from the world—meat, vegetables, water—you put this stuff in your mouth, you chew, you taste and feel, you smell and swallow, and all of it, every bite, becomes your body. This is extraordinarily intimate! We are made up of, literally, built out of what we eat. If we eat and drink Christ this morning, whom do we become?

What does it mean then for you, for all of us to eat the Body of Christ and to drink his Blood? Thomas Aquinas answers: “Since it was the will of God’s only-begotten Son that men should share in his divinity, he assumed our nature in order that by becoming man he might make men gods.” God became man so that we all might become god. In Christ Jesus, we are made more than holy, more than just, more than righteous; we are made perfect as the Father is perfect. Wholly joined to Holy Other, divinized as God promised at the moment of creation, we are brought to the divine by the Divine and given to participate in the life of God by God. We are brought and given. Brought to Him by Christ and given to Him by Christ. We do not go to God uninvited, and we do not receive from Him what is not first given. Therefore, “take this, all of you, and eat of it, for this is my body, which will be given up for you…” And when you take the gift of his body and eat, and when you take the gift of his blood and drink, you become what you eat and drink. You become Christ. And all together we are Christ for one another—his Body, the church. In his first encyclical, Deus caritas est, Pope Benedict, writes, “Union with Christ is also union with all those to whom he gives himself. I cannot possess Christ just for myself; I can belong to him only in union with all those who have become, or who will become, his own. Communion draws me out of myself towards him, and thus also towards unity with all Christians. We become 'one body', completely joined in a single existence. Love of God and love of neighbour are now truly united: God incarnate draws us all to himself. We can thus understand how agape [divine love] also became a term for the Eucharist: there God's own agape comes to us bodily, in order to continue his work in us and through us”(14). 

Thomas calls the Eucharist the sacramentum caritatis, the sacrament of love. The Eucharist is not a family picnic or Sunday dinner. We’re not talking about a community meal or a neighborhood buffet. All of these can and do express genuine love for God, self, and neighbor. But Thomas is teaching us something far more radical about the Eucharist here than the pedestrian notion that eating together makes us better people and a stronger community! The sacramentum caritatis is an efficacious sign of God’s gift of Himself to us for our perfection. In other words, the Eucharist we celebrate this morning is not just a memorial, just a symbol, just a community prayer service, just a familial gathering, just a ritual. In Christ, with him and through him, we effect—make real and produce—the redeeming graces of Calvary and the Empty Tomb: Christ on the cross and Christ risen from the grave. Again, we are not merely being reminded of an important bible story nor are we being taught a lesson about sharing and caring nor are we simply “feeling” Christ’s presence among us. We are doing exactly what Christ tells us to do: we are eating his body and drinking his blood for our perfection, for our eternal lives. And while we wait for his coming again, we walk this earth as Christs! Imperfect now, to be perfected eventually; but right now, radically loved by Love Himself and loved so that we may be changed, converted from our disobedience, brought to repentance and forgiveness, and absolved of all violence against God’s will for us. 

Thomas teaches us that God gave us the Eucharist in order “to impress the vastness of [His] love more firmly upon the hearts of the faithful…” How vast is His love for us? He gifted us with His Son. He gave His only child up to death so that we might live. And He gave us the means of our most intimate communion with Him. We take his body into our bodies. His blood into ours. We are made co-heirs, brothers and sisters, prophets and priests; we are made holy, just, and clean; we are made Christ, and having been made Christs, we are given his ministries, his holy tasks: teaching, preaching, healing, feeding. This Eucharist tells you who you are, where you came from, where you are going. It tells you why you are here and what you must do. And most importantly, this celebration of thanksgiving, tells you and me who it is that loves us and what being loved by Love Himself means for our sin, our repentance, our conversion, our ministries, our progress in holiness. . .

Do not fail to hand on what you yourself have received: the gift of the Christ. Our Holy Father, Benedict, writes, “Faith, worship and [ethics] are interwoven as a single reality which takes shape in our encounter with God's [divine love]. Here the usual [distinction] between worship and ethics simply falls apart. 'Worship' itself, Eucharistic communion, includes the reality both of being loved and of loving others in turn. A Eucharist which does not pass over into the concrete practice of love is [essentially broken]”(14). Therefore, walk out those doors this morning and present yourself to the world as a sacramentum caritatis. Walk out of here a sacrament of love—a sign, a witness, a tabernacle, an icon—walk out of here branded by the Holy Spirit to preach, teach, bless, feed, eat, drink, pray, to love, and to spread the infectious joy that comes naturally to a child of God! 

A Southern blessing: as your waist expands to fill the limits of your belt, so may your spirit grow to hold the limitless love of Him Who loves you always.
_________________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

01 June 2013

Group pic


The Dominican friars of St Martin de Porres (USA)! 

(Well, those who came to the recent assembly in St Louis anyway. . .)

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe

No Bobbing and Weaving!

Justin Martyr 
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP 
St. Dominic Church, NOLA 

The Pharisees and scribes—finally fed up with Jesus' teaching and disruptive behavior—ask Jesus a straightforward question: “By what authority are you doing these things?” “These things” includes using a whip to clear the temple area of moneychangers. Why would his enemies care by what authority he causes a near-riot in the temple? It would seem that Jesus' behavior alone is enough to discredit him in the eyes of the crowd. So, why ask about his authority? There is a long history among God's people of prophets being sent to straighten out the messes caused by the ruling religious elite. The Pharisees and scribes do want to discredit Jesus on religious grounds, but they also want to make sure that he's not a real God-sent prophet. They both want to know and do want to know who he is. This ambivalence leaves them teetering btw action and inaction, btw their religious power and the anger of the crowd. When challenged by Jesus with a simple question, the elites fall back on a time-honored political dodge. They answer, “We don't know.” They do know! But they don't answer b/c the consequences of doing so are just too much to bear. For us, “we don't know” is never an answer to the question of Jesus' identity. He is the Christ. Then, now, always. 

The Pharisees and scribes claim not to know whether or not John's baptism is of divine origin. Maybe they don't know, strictly speaking, but they do have an opinion on the question. But because they are afraid of the crowd and even more afraid of who Jesus might be, they claim ignorance. This is a dodge pure and simple. You can almost hear the groaning and jeering of the crowd when they start to bob and weave. We can guess is Jesus is pleased with this dodge b/c he's not yet ready to fully reveal his identity. Their “we don't know” allows him to dodge their original question, thus preserving the Messianic secret for a while longer. That secret—that Jesus is the Messiah—has long since been revealed, so we cannot honestly say, “We don't know by what authority Jesus did all those things.” By what authority did he teach, preach, heal, admonish; by what authority did he choose the apostles, commission them, send them out; by what authority did he establish the Church, invest her with his own authority, and preserve her from error? We can't say that we don't know. We can't safely dodge these questions. There's no crowd waiting to riot if we answer incorrectly, but there is the sin of deceit and the possibility of scandal if we start to bob and weave.

If Jesus is who he says he is—and he is—then certain truths follow naturally from this single truth. If Jesus is the Christ—and he is—then the Church is his body working in the world; Francis is the successor to Peter and Christ's steward on earth; the Church mediates divine grace to her members; all the baptized are each a priest, a prophet, and a king; the Eucharist is true food and true drink, and so on. In other words, the truth of everything we believe about ourselves as Christians rests on the question of Jesus' true identity. So, why would we ever hesitate to loudly proclaim that Jesus is the Christ? Like the Pharisees and scribes, we face popular pressure; threats to our own identity; threats to our need for control; pressure from elite factions of our country and culture; we may even feel pressure from within the Church to bob and weave when applying the Gospel to contemporary problems. Remember the Pharisees and scribes: they are ambivalent, teetering btw truth and fiction, left dangling with nothing but their naked pride showing. Our yes must yes and our no must be no. There is no maybe in preaching the Good News. Either Jesus is who he says he is or he isn't. If he isn't the Christ, then why are you here? If he is, then shout that Good News from the rooftops and make known the saving power of God! 
 ________________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE

31 May 2013

Perilous Sensibilities

[. . .]

[Theological modernism] was little more than the result of a rather puerile desire of Christians, especially clergymen and theologians, to avoid being counter-cultural, to retain the same status and “relevance” in a secular age as had been accorded them in a Catholic age. Therefore, by the mid-20th century, Modernism had become the quasi-spiritual and theological doorway through which a profound secularization entered into the Church, as Catholics at every level embraced the opportunity to reinterpret their faith and values in ways which made them more compatible with the larger surrounding culture—a culture which was no longer shaped in any significant way by the Faith.
 
The result was a rapid shift in Catholic sensibilities, beginning with a rejection of authority in favor of the zeitgeist (spirit of the times or cultural spirit). Where in 1930 parishioners would likely have been shocked if their priest undermined or contradicted a clear statement of the Holy See, in 1980 parishioners could very easily be moved to applaud the courage and vision such a contradiction seemed to them to embody. This broad infection of secularization in the Church led to countless abuses in preaching, in the liturgy, in catechetics, in theology classes, and even in social action and politics. In fact, as both the attitude of relativism and the power of the State grew during the same period, Catholics began to see things more and more in merely political terms. Every disagreement was understood to be essentially a partisan struggle.

In some universities and religious communities, these attitudes continue unabated even now that dioceses and parishes have begun to heal. Efforts by the Holy See to correct the wayward are a perfect example. The Holy See inevitably speaks in terms of the objective and absolute truths Divinely revealed through Jesus Christ, and the Holy See is inevitably dismissed as a bunch of old, celibate, white European males making a power grab for a party whose relevance has long since vanished from the world stage.

[. . .]

Read the whole thing.

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe

30 May 2013

Healing becomes discipleship

8th Week OT (Th) 
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP 
St. Dominic Church, NOLA 

Bartimaeus' blindness is healed, so naturally we assume that this gospel story is about a miraculous cure. In fact, Bartimaeus' healing is a story about discipleship, a story about being healed so that discipleship is possible. We know this b/c the Greek tells us much more than our English translation can. Mark tells us that Bartimaeus is sitting by the “roadside begging.” The Greek work for “roadside” is hodon. Once his blindness is healed, Mark tells us that Bartimaeus follows Jesus “on the way.” The Greek here is hodo. In other words, Bartimaeus, blind and pitiful, is sitting along side the way begging. Jesus comes along the way, heals Bartimaeus' blindness, and now he, once blind, follows Jesus on the Way, both enlightened and sighted. Other than the miraculous cure, what changes btw Bartimaeus begging beside the way and Bartimaeus following along behind Jesus on the way? Our Lord asks the blind man, “What can I do for you?” He answers, “Master, I want to see.” In his compassion, Jesus says, “Go your way; your faith has saved you.” What “way” does Bartimaeus choose? He chooses the Way of Christ. 

After healing Bartimaeus, Jesus tells the once blind man to “go your way.” His eyes are open now. He can “see” the truth. He can choose his own way and live life w/o begging. With all the options available to him, he chooses Christ as his way, the truth, and the life, giving his own life to the ministry of Christ by following him. So, yes, this is a story with a miraculous healing, but it is fundamentally a story about how a blind man comes to see by faith and answers the call to discipleship as a student of Christ. Like Bartimaeus, we are all called to discipleship. Every one of us hears a call to be a student learning at the feet of a Master. The question is: who do we choose as our teacher? The options are legion. We can be students of our rapidly collapsing Enlightenment culture; students of material science and the nihilism it imposes; students of our disordered passions and instincts; students of the created world, giving ourselves over to made-things rather than their Maker. We will learn from a Master, someone or something will teach us. The only question is: who will we choose to learn from? And make no mistake, we choose our teachers. We choose to submit ourselves to the lessons we learn. Bartimaeus chooses Christ with good reason. Why have you chosen Christ? What are your good reasons? 

We don't have to think too hard to understand why Bartimaeus chooses Christ as his teacher. Jesus tells his disciples to call the blind man over to him. They say to Bartimaeus, “Take courage; get up, Jesus is calling you.” But how did Jesus even notice the poor beggar in the first place? Over the racket of the crowd, Jesus hears the man calling him repeatedly, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.” Bartimaeus calls out to Jesus for compassion. Jesus calls Bartimaeus to discipleship by healing his blindness. That's a good reason to make Christ your way, your truth, and your life. What's your good reason? Why do we need a good reason to follow Christ? What's wrong with saying, “It's my choice! I don't need a reason”? For someone, you and I will become a teacher. You and I will be chosen as someone to follow. If we follow Christ, then we will naturally lead to Christ those who look to us for instruction. If we're to point to Christ as the Master, and not ourselves as some sort of guru, then we need a reason to be walking his Way. If we are no longer blind to the truth, who healed us and how? Make yourselves ready to give reasons for your faith. “As the rising sun is clear to all, so the glory of the Lord fills all his works. . .” You are among His most beautiful works. How will you reveal His glory if asked for the reason why? 
______________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

29 May 2013

Francis and Liberation Theology

The pope cares for the poor and calls upon all Christians to assist them.  

This must mean that our Holy Father embraces liberation theology, right?  I mean, only leftists really care for the poor!

Wrong.

So is Pope Francis a closet liberation theologian, or someone with strong sympathies for the school of thought? It’s a question that’s been raised many times since Jorge Mario Bergoglio’s election to the papacy in March. Most recently, the New York Times weighed in on the subject. While discussing the tone adopted by Bergoglio since becoming pope, the NYT article claimed that Francis has “an affinity for liberation theology.” “Francis’s speeches,” the article argues, “draw clearly on the themes of liberation theology.” It also suggested that “Francis studied with an Argentine Jesuit priest who was a proponent of liberation theology.”

I’m afraid, however, that if one looks at Francis’s pre-pontifical writings, a rather different picture emerges. Certainly Bergoglio is a man who has always been concerned about those in genuine material need. But orthodox Christianity didn’t need to wait for liberation theology in order to articulate deep concern for the materially poor and to remind those with power and resources that they have concrete obligations to the less fortunate. From the very beginning, it was a message that pervaded the Gospels and the Church’s subsequent life.

Read the whole thing.
_______________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

Calling All Catholic Education Nerds!

Next semester I will teaching a course at Notre Dame Seminary called, "Teaching and Preaching the Word of God."

The course is designed to teach seminarians who to teach the faith to children/teens/adults. 

The General Directory of Catechesis and the USCCB's United States Catholic Catechism for Adults will feature prominently, but we still need a good book or two on theory/method in faith formation pedagogy.

Any suggestions?

P.S. Thomas Groome's work has been mentioned as a possibility. . .but I'm pretty sure his stuff (or some really bad uses of his stuff) has been partly responsibile for the collapse of good faith formation in the last 40 yrs.

________________

Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->

A Servant Church Needs All of God's Gifts

8th Week OT (W) 
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP 
St. Dominic Church, NOLA 

 We do well to start this day in prayer, praying with Sirach, “Come to our aid, O God of the universe, look upon us, show us the light of your mercies. . .Give new signs and work new wonders. . .Give evidence of your deeds of old; fulfill the prophecies spoken in your name, Reward those who have hoped in you. . .Hear the prayer of your servants. . .and lead us in the way of justice. . .” This is a prayer for restoration, a prayer for renewal and strength. All that the Lord has to give is given but the Church has yet to receive all of His gifts. Our Lord has given us aid, light, mercy signs, wonders, hope, prophecies fulfilled, and abundant justice. And like James and John who assure Christ that they can follow him into suffering and death, we have assured ourselves that we are open to receiving all of God's gifts. But are we open to all that God has to give us? Our Holy Father, Francis, has repeatedly urged us to transform ourselves into a “servant Church,” echoing Christ who teaches his disciples, “. . .whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.” 

If we will be open to receiving all of God's gifts—not just the ones we see as personally advantageous—we will be slaves to all. We are given divine gifts for one purpose: to use freely for the benefit of others. And in using these gifts for others, we are perfected in His love. What are your divine gifts? First, you are alive. As a follower of Christ, your life belongs to God. Every breath, every heartbeat, every second of your existence is His. Second, you are a rational creature, meaning that you are made by God to think, to reason, to deliberate. By this gift you are freed from the prison of instinct and disordered passion. This allows you to use the gift of life to order your heart and mind toward service. Third, just as you were made by God to reason, you are re-made in Christ to love. Joined to Christ in baptism, you are a member of his living Body on Earth, a sacrament of human flesh and bone that presents God's mercy to the world. And, finally, because you are re-made in Christ to love, you can become Christ for others, re-making others in his love. If Christ came to serve not to be served, then those of us who hope to grow in Christ's perfection must serve. And to do this, we must be open to receiving all of God's gifts and using them for the good of all. 

When Pope Francis urges us to transform ourselves into a “servant Church,” he is not urging us to strengthen the social services division of Catholic Church, Inc. He's not calling on us to set up a new bureaucracy dedicated to handing out grants to aid organizations or funding new social programs. The Servant Church that he has in mind drinks from the same chalice that Christ drinks from: the chalice of individual sacrificial love, personal service for the good of the many. Each of us is called up to serve, personally serve, in the world united to the Body. This isn't about works-salvation; we're not racking up Heaven Points to redeem later. The spiritual rewards of slave-servitude to others are immediate. Every use of our gifts—whatever those individual gifts may be—sharpens and polishes God's love in us, and His glory shines out from us all the more, drawing in all those who are starving for His mercy and His word. Our Lord has given us aid, light, signs, wonders, hope, prophecies fulfilled, and abundant justice. Are hoarding these gifts? Socking them away for a rainy day? Or are you busy about the Lord's work, imitating Christ in sacrificial love, slaving away at loving others into the Body? “Come to our aid, O God of the universe, look upon us, show us the light of your mercies!”
__________________
 
Follow HancAquam or Subscribe and DONATE! ----->