08 October 2007

Making it up as we go along. . .(UPDATED)

Holy See – online

USCCB – pdf online

Art. 5, § 1. In paroeciis, ubi coetus fidelium traditioni liturgicae antecedenti adhaerentium continenter exsistit, parochus eorum petitiones ad celebrandam sanctam Missam iuxta ritum Missalis Romani anno 1962 editi, libenter suscipiat.

Art. 5, § 1. In paroeciis, ubi coetus fidelium traditioni liturgicae antecedenti adhaerentium stabiliter existit, parochus eorum petitiones ad celebrandam sanctam Missam iuxta ritum Missalis Romani anno 1962 editi, libenter suscipiat.


Fr. Z. has noted an odd discrepancy between the Vatican's official version of the Holy Father's motu proprio, Summorum pontificum, and the version the USCCB used for its English translation. You can get the grammatical details from Fr. Z., however, suffice it to say here: the difference between the two Latin words is enormous! And this difference explains why a number of American bishops are attempting to limit the celebration of the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite to a "stable" group of parishioners whose interest in the rite pre-dates S.P.

Read Fr. Z.'s explanation of the difference between "continenter" and "stabiliter." Better yet-- ponder his closing question: why is the USCCB using an older version of the official Latin text? As my prior often says, "Pious minds can only speculate. . ."

Updated musings: One of the annoying habits of contemporaty, progressive liturgists is their tendency to trivialize Latin as a useful language for your average Catholic pewsitter. I have often heard, "Nobody speaks Latin anymore. . .dead language." And so, we have pretty much systematically eliminated Latin education from the Church in the last forty years. All in the name of "People Power," popular access, and making the liturgy relevant, we have effectively handed over to an elite segment of the Church's academic corps the power to translate--and thus the power to interpret--Latin documents from Rome. This would count as irony if it didn't happen almost every time an enlightened cadre of self-appointed prophets and revolutionaries destroyed an institution's history and culture in the name of the "People." I don't believe that there is any conspiracy here. The USCCB staff has a strong liberal bias, but they aren't stupid. The real test will be whether or not they adopt the official Vatican version and change their published guidelines to match.

See the original documents: official Vatican document and USCCB's version. You are looking for Article 5.1.

Jesus' Inconvenient Truth

Praedicator primum sibi praedicet!

27th Week OT(M): Jonah 1.1-2, 2.1-2, 11 and Luke 10.25-37
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory, Irving, TX

The Good Samaritan. We all know the story well. Here are the lessons we traditionally draw from the story: 1) because they were too concerned with the laws of purity, the priest and Levite leave the beaten man to his fate, thus violating the law of love; 2) compassion is of the Spirit and therefore not doled out on the basis of race, nationality, creed, or preferred denomination, even a Samaritan is given the spirit of compassion; 3) compassion is not only about immediate assistance to the distressed, but also about their continued care on into what would normally appear to one to be excessive; 4) being a proper neighbor means showing mercy always; and 5) perhaps most importantly for us, the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” is answered best by Jesus when he points to the Samaritan’s compassionate care and says, “Go and do likewise.”

Go and do likewise. Let me say out loud what I would be willing to bet most of us are thinking: “I’m not doing that.” Maybe you aren’t being that blunt. Maybe you’re just worried about how difficult a thing it would be to imitate the Samaritan. Or maybe you trying to work it out in our head how you could do what he did without actually getting too involved with the victim himself. I’m willing to bet that some of you are thinking these things b/c every time I read this gospel I think, “I don’t have the time, the money, or the patience to get that involved with someone I don’t even know! And my eternal life depends on this?” I immediately start to think of ways to turn the story into something other than a direct order to serve those most in need. For example, this is some sort of vague tale of angels coming to help men—one of those Feel Good moments when we have to hope on the goodness of the supernatural b/c we can’t trust the natural. But, no matter how hard I try, how hard you try, the story remains…as is.

And I wonder why Jesus tells the story. Of course, he’s instructing the scholar of the law who is worried—as lawyers often are—about his own liability under the Law of Love. The scholar has the philosophy of mercy exactly right. Jesus says, “You have answered correctly…” The more difficult moment, however, comes when he says, “…do this and you will live.” Be merciful and you will have eternal life. Jesus tells this story of compassion b/c he dies on the cross for us all. Everyone. Without a single exception. And he means for us to understand that it is not enough for us to “get” the theology right, to grasp the philosophy correctly. Our merciful intent is a ghost in the brain if it will not animate our hands and hearts. Think: what if Jesus had merely thought about suffering and dying for us. Mused on the idea of saving us. Sat safely under the shade of a fig tree and contemplated the wisdom of offering himself as a victim for our sins. Would we have the Holy Spirit kicking us in the rear, thumping us on the head to go and do likewise? Maybe. But what difference would it make? In fact, how exactly would we be any different than the priest and Levite who see the beaten man and cross the road to avoid him? Caring compassionately for your neighbor is not an abstraction. It is a matter of our salvation. How perfectly inconvenient! What a huge nuance.

Fortunately, we do not have to decide to be merciful all alone. When Jesus says, “Go and do likewise,” he is also saying, “I am with you always.” When he says, “Be merciful and you will live,” he is also saying, “You know what mercy looks like b/c I have been merciful to you.” Indeed, he has rescued us from the pit and now we are freer than ever to help him rescue others. If we have a job description as Christians, it is this: out of the love Christ has shown us, we must love and be merciful.

That is a truly inconvenient truth.

07 October 2007

How Not to be a Gospel Coward

27th Sunday OT: Hab 1.2-3, 2.2-4; 2 Tim 1.6-8, 13-14; Luke 17.5-10
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Paul
Hospital
and Church of the Incarnation

[<---Click on the Podcast Player to listen!]

Are you a gospel coward? Is your heart weak and your spirit faint? Do you cringe or flinch or whine at the first sign of opposition? Do you think it always best to find a way around or between or under adversity? Do your hands and arms get rubbery at the thought of conflict, the mere mention of offense? Does your brain turn to mush and your strength drain away when the enemy approaches to confront you? Maybe you are a coward in more subtle ways—surrendering to fashion out of fear of exclusion; giving up the fight because your cause is ill-defined or poorly lead; retreating in the face of superior reason or more extensive experience? Do you abandon your gospel witness? Do you manifest cowardice when what is most needed is courage?

How easy it is for us to be ashamed of our “testimony to our Lord”! Paul admonishes Timothy “not to be ashamed” of the witness he himself makes to the gospel of Christ. Rather than being embarrassed by the prospect of telling others about the Lord’s freely given gift of forgiveness in mercy, Paul urges Timothy to “bear your share of the hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.” We are either ashamed of the gospel, burdened by the adversity its preaching brings, or we are strengthened, en-joyed, made joyful by the “sound words that [we have] heard from [Paul].” The faith and love that are in Christ Jesus are our inheritance, our trust fund of grace and life, the exceedingly rich treasury of gratuitous help that we receive for no other reason than that our Father is Love and loves us always. Paul goes on to order Timothy to “[g]uard this rich trust with the help of the Holy Spirit that dwells with us.” Reminding, testifying, bearing-up-under, strengthening, hearing and seeing, guarding, and preaching—all of these we do now and tomorrow for the sake of Christ and our eternal lives with him. Thankfully, we do not do any of these alone, none without help. Our help is the Holy Spirit who dwells within us and among us.

Brothers and sisters, we have work to do. And there is no room for a coward’s heart in a soul filled with Spirit!

We have work to do. And with this work, we have the Holy Spirit filling us with the power of the Word Made Flesh, the fire of truthful witness, and the assurances of God’s promises written in stone and flesh. The Spirit dwells in me. In you. In us. Calling Timothy “beloved,” Paul reminds Timothy: “Beloved, I remind you to stir into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands.” What is this gift? For the Church, Timothy is a bishop, ordered to apostolic authority by the imposition of Paul’s hands. His gift is the grace of leadership, the gift of standing in front, between what has gone before and what is coming. Timothy is the focal point of salvation history for his local church. He is the crux, the crossroad for what is and what is not authentic testimony, what is and what is not truthful witness. With the Church, Timothy is a man of faith, burning with courage and strength, called to service to the exhaustion of his gifts, and lifted up as one with authority to lead. Timothy is himself a gift to the Church, a grace given to serve us in peril, without profit.

With Timothy’s strength, with Paul’s strength, with all the saints living and dead, and with the unfailing help of the Holy Spirit and the whole Body of Christ, we, cannot fail in preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ. God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather one of power and love. Therefore, to be ashamed of our gospel testimony is to be ashamed of Christ himself. Why would we add this hardship to our burden? We have enough work to do in pursuing holiness, in keeping away from sin, in feeding the hungry and clothing the naked and healing the sick. Why would we do any of this and fail to claim the power and love of the Holy Spirit? Why would we do any of this and fail to dig deeply and excessively into the treasury of graces freely given to us specifically for this purpose? Why would we plow the fields of the world and tend the world’s sheep and do so without humility and eagerly welcoming hearts? Why?

Cowardice, that’s why. Fear of hardship. An aversion to difficulty. A distaste for “offending.” We might be called names. We might be ostracized. People will think we are being exclusive or discriminatory or intolerant. If we make any hard claims about the truths of the gospel, we will be seen as aggressive missionaries, or worse—missionaries of aggressive religion! Thus, we must blend in, mingle, disguise ourselves. If we stand up, stand out, or in any way distinguish ourselves as gospel witnesses, we must be claiming exclusive possession of The Truth. We must be preaching One Way, The Only Way to heaven. We must be vile little buggers who lust to see the heathens burn! If we flinch at these accusations, batting a single eye for a single second, and change one word of the gospel out of fear being called bigots, we are, in fact, cowards; cowards deserving the label.

Now, before any of you think I am calling for the reinstitution of the Inquisition or a rallying of the Crusades, let me say: we work as servants. Not inquisitors. Not soldiers. Servants. We serve. That’s what gospel people do. Secularists expect us to come charging out of Mass with swords drawn and torches lit and force them all to the baptismal font and confessional. My suspicion is that this is exactly what they want us to do, thus confirming their own bigotries and prejudices and giving them every excuse to continue their already well-oiled and ever-so-sophisticated persecution of the Church. No, I’m not being an alarmist. Nor am I issuing warnings or dire cautions against the evils of the secular world. The evil we need to be worrying about lives already in the heart of every man and woman who lays claim to the suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ. Our worst enemy is not the state, not the Supreme Court, not the ACLU, and not other religions. Our worst enemy is the weak heart of compromise, the fainting spirit of accommodation and assimilation. Our worst enemy is the Christian heart that believes its soul is impervious to charitable work. Excused from profitable service and witness. This is the restless heart of a Christian that will not search for and will not find its rest in Love. It cannot. Because it suffocates the Spirit in disobedience and fear.

Ask these hard questions this way: is the Lord to be grateful to us b/c we have done what he has commanded us to do? Is he supposed to pat us on the back and send us on permanent retreat b/c we completed the work we vowed to do at baptism? Because we have said “amen” and “thanks be to God” at Mass? Or, are we to say to our Master, “We are unprofitable servants, Lord; we have done what we were obliged to do”? Even better: we have done what we promised to do because you died for us, making us heirs to your kingdom.

We are already well-paid servants. We’ve used all of our vacation days. All of our comp time and sick days. The Christmas bonus has been given and spent. The heavenly 401K has been cashed. The time clock is still ticking and we haven’t yet punched out. If you are going to be a witness to the gospel out there, then know this: our God did not give you a spirit of cowardice but rather a spirit of power and love and self control. His Word has been proclaimed to you and his Word remains forever.

Brothers and sisters, put on your apron. We have work to do!

...and for what do we pray...?

Several of you have sent emails promising to pray for me. And most of you have asked, "What are we praying for, Father?"

I'm not asking that you pray that I will be allowed to attend a specific school or that any particular school accept me.

Please, just pray that God's will be done in this matter, and that I be given the strength in obedience to do the best thing of my province and my growth in holiness.

It couldn't hurt to pay for financial help as well! One easy thing you can do to help me and the province out is to buy me a good philosophy book. . .save us a little money. Check out the Buy Fr. Philip PHILOSOPHY & THEOLOGY Wish List, look for those books marked "Highest" in the priority category,* and send them my way. Books in the UK are outrageously expensive. For example, a new theology text from Ashgate Publishers can run as high as $120.00. Books in Italy aren't that much less expensive. Truly, the US has some of the lowest book prices around. Throw in the used book buying option from Amazon.com and you have the perfect way to further educate an intellectually curious Dominican friar!

Though I have an undergrad degree in philosophy, the graduate level study of philosophy is not my first or second or third choice for advanced studies. I learned just last night that one of my four choices (listed in the post below) will require me to be fluent in Italian; have some reading knowledge of Latin and Greek; and that I be able to read philosophical texts in three of these four: English, French, German, and Spanish. That's five languages for a philosophy degree.

This is WAAAAYYYYYYY overkill.

But one must endure. . .AND be grateful for all prayers offered: my thanks for all the intercessions going on out there!

*I know, I know. How can I have more than one book listed as "highest priority"? The English prof in me finds this ridiculous. However, the poor friar that I am finds it necessary. Go figure.

06 October 2007

Tentative Plans/Discernment Woes

This isn't me. . .but this is how I feel!


Asking for prayers. . .again!


The discernment process for my next assignment is slowly coming to a close.

I have been praying over and thinking about and discussing with my superiors two options:

1) a full-time affiliate teaching position at the University of Dallas in English and theology and

2) advanced studies in philosophical theology/philosophical hermeneutics, leading to some sort of license or doctorate.

It is almost certain that I will not be continuing at U.D. as a teacher or campus minister. This leaves the advanced studies option. Now, the discernment begins again in earnest about where to study and at what level. Advanced studies requires that I gather a great deal of info about costs and financial aid, proper location for studies (a university at or near an OP priory), availability of room/board at the priory, the degree program and availability of faculty in the area I am to study, and on and on and on. I have to do this research for each university to which I will be applying.

So, where am I thinking about going? In order of preference:

1. Oxford University (M.Phil. in phil theo/hermeneutics & D.Phil. in same) 4 yrs

2. Gregorian Pontifical University (license and doctorate in phil theo/hermeneutics) 4 yrs

3. Catholic University of America (Ph.L. in phil , no Ph.D.--US doctorates take too long)* 3 yrs

4. John Lateran Pontifical University (lic./doc. in phil theo/hermeneutics) 4 yrs

The difficulty is that with the exception of CUA, only Roman Pontifical universities offer philosophy at the license level. And CUA's license is really a three-year M.A. The other two pontifical grad faculties in the US (Weston Jesuit & Berkeley Jesuit) only offer canonical degrees in theology. Two other European pontifical universities are Fribourg and Salamanca. My French and German is nonexistent and my Spanish is no where near good enough for grad work. Plus I am not at all thrilled by the idea of having to learn a foreign language in order to study philosophy so that I can return to the US to teach that philosophy in English. Learning a research language is one thing, but the time and effort to learn a language just to attend lectures. . .that strikes me as excessive.

The website for the Greg is extremely poorly designed and has almost no information. If anyone out there can answer a few basic questions about language requirements, I would most grateful.

Please pray for me and visit the Philosophy & Theology Wish List on the sidebar.

God bless, Fr. Philip, OP

*I mean here that I would not want to study for another American Ph.D. b/c they usually take btw 6-8 yrs. Also, the language requirements are unreasonable. CUA offers an excellent doctoral program in philosophy. I'm just too old and tired to spend the time and energy again on American-style doctoral hoop-jumping.

05 October 2007

Wicked Hearts and Enemies of God

26th Week OT: Baruch 1.15-22 and Luke 10.13-16
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
Serra Club Mass & Church of the Incarnation

Cell phones. PDA’s. Laptops. iPods. Cameras. All devices. And though sometimes wickedly used, they are not wicked in themselves. So, what are the Babylonian captives confessing when they confess that “each one of us went off after the devices of his own wicked heart…”?

When asked how to explain the consequences of mortal sin, Fr. Dominic Holtz, OP, will answer: “You are wicked and become an enemy of God.” Never one to mince words, Fr. Dominic is expressing succinctly what the Babylonian captives are lamenting lavishly. In their stubborn disobedience, they became enemies of God—the God who led them out of slavery in Egypt; the God Who gave them Moses and the promise of a land flowing in milk and honey; the God of their ancestors, He Who made them and fathers them still. They confess: “From the time the Lord led our ancestors out the land of Egypt until the present day, we have been disobedient to the Lord, our God, and only too ready to disregard his voice.” They would not listen…and so they suffer the consequences, becoming enemies of God, each running after “the devices of his own wicked heart.”

Where do our disobedient devices take us? These devices of the wicked heart, where do they leave us? The Babylonian captives confess to serving other gods and doing evil in the sight of the Lord. Am I left serving alien gods and doing evil when I run after the plans, the schemes of my wicked heart? A heart turned from the Lord will not be fed by the Lord. And a heart not fed by the Lord starts to quickly die of starvation and thirst, it will grasp at any spiritual morsel offered by any passing spirit. Having feasted on the Lamb of Heaven, a heart turned from the Lord will be satisified with the cotton candies of New Age “spirituality,” or the junk snacks of secular philosophies, or the Happy Meals the little gods of ego and vice feed it.

We are made for heaven and called to a wonderous life!

Jesus curses Chorazin, Bathsaida, and Capernaum b/c these villages hear his Word but do not listen. Witness his mighty deeds but do not believe. They cannot see His justice, hear His mercy. Therefore, Jesus says, “[They] will go down to the netherworld.” They will live forever as they have chosen to live now: outside the love of God. And so, Psalm 95 warns us, “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

You know as well as I do what plugs our ears and covers our eyes. A need for self-sufficiency. A desire for independence from others. The temptations of hatred, venegance, violence, despair. The seductive call of alien gods—those deities who live and thrive in the love of money, power, prestige, and celebrity. But do we see and hear all of the dangers of this postmodern age? The sinkhole of boredom. The erotic pull of extreme experience. The numbing mantras of moral indifference. All those puny gods that whisper to us: You can be gods w/o God. You have no end, no purpose but the ones you yourself invent, the ones you yourself set up on the altars of ambition and pride. You can be whatever you long to be; do whatever you long to do. Nothing is given, nothing is taken away. You are random bits of genetic material, sequenced for survival and development. Purpose is power and power is wielded by those who will seize the moment and declare themselves gods. Who rules your heart then? Who sits at the center of your being then? Unruly imagination? Destructive passion? Weak compromise? Death?

This disobedience shames those who have eaten the Lamb of Heaven and sends them chasing after the devices of their wicked hearts. Therefore, whoever listens to the witness of the apostles, listens to Christ. Whoever listens to Christ, listens to his Father. Whoever rejects the apostolic witness, rejects Christ. Whoever rejects Christ, rejects His Father. You are hearing His Word today, harden not your hearts.

03 October 2007

Zombie Christianity?

The Dead on their way to bury the dead


26th Week OT: Neh 2.1-8 and Luke 9.57-62
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory, Irving, TX

[Click on the Pod-O-Matic Podcast Player to listen!]

A body in the street, two in the fields, a couple on the front porch; bodies floating in the pond, another tipped over a well, and one over there near the temple gates: “Let the dead bury their dead.” Leaving dead bodies where they fall is not what Jesus had in mind when he tells his recently invited but hesitant-to-follow disciple to forego burying his father in favor of preaching the gospel. We have to admit though that images of zombies digging graves for soon-to-be zombies do come to mind. Or maybe that’s just me! Regardless, Jesus here is talking about those who are still in the life of sin, the spiritually dead; they are responsible for burying the dead, the actually dead. Those who are alive with the invitation from Christ to follow him have no time to bury the dead. They must “go and proclaim the Kingdom of God.” Going and proclaiming are what we do when we hear Christ say, “Follow me.” Given the invitation from Christ himself and the promise he made to send us his Spirit to open our mouths in praise of his Father’s name, our excuses, our hesitations and dodges, our vanity in attempting to skirt around the task of preaching, all are just weak.

So, what does it take to say to Christ, “I will follow you wherever you go”?

First, it takes supernatural courage. Courage is the good habit of doing what is right even when we fear for our lives. The amount of courage varies from place to place, from time to time, but the postmodern preacher must have a truly muscular heart! We need courage b/c we must preach a gospel message that runs directly counter to the way we are tempted—by the world—to live our lives. Holiness, not the fake pietistic play-acting junk that’s so popular nowadays but True Holiness, threatens all of our loves, our friendships, our most comforting securities. As holiness matures for us, it invades and defines how we perceive the world, how we take it all in, and ultimately, how we come to serve that world. Jesus says, “No one who sets a hand to the plow and looks to what was left behind is fit for the Kingdom of God.”

Second, following Christ wherever he goes requires a bit of healthy ignorance, a mindset ready to be formed by the darkness of Good Friday and the Cross. How prepared are we to walk behind our Lord on the via dolorosa, enduring the anger and venom of the vengeful crowds, walking through the harassment and harangues of those who would rather see us crucified than victorious? Not knowing the end, being ignorant of what our final witness will be, is the blessing of letting the dead bury the dead. Again, like courage, the degree of ignorance will vary from time to time, place to place. Right here, right now our ignorance is safely tucked away in Christian Texas. But remember: every time you say “amen,” you agree to follow Christ wherever he goes and whenever he chooses to leave!

Third, following Christ wherever he goes requires a large dose of foolish faith. For exactly all of the reasons that such a commitment requires courage and ignorance, it requires that we fall in behind Christ, trusting fully in the Father’s promises of final victory in His glory. But why does the commitment require a “foolish faith”? Like the Fool we cannot worry about what our faith looks like out there. We cannot fret about what the world sees as our dumb trust in magic and ancient myth. These are our feet and our steps, our breath and our YES! If the Son of Man himself has nowhere to rest his head, then why would those who follow him wherever his goes get wound up about what the world calls “foolishness”? Call it wisdom instead and become wise.

When the invitation comes—and it has—giggle hysterically, jump up, embarrass yourself with effusive gratitude, and wave hello and goodbye to the dead who are busy burying the dead. And judge all things as so much rubbish that you may gain Christ and be found in him. Even (and especially) if you will be found nailed to a cross.

02 October 2007

Saying the Unsayable, teaching the unteachable

I received word recently that the senior/grad student seminar I had proposed to my department chair has been approved and scheduled for spring semester 2008!

The seminar will be: THEO 5317 Recent and Contemporary Theology: Post/metaphysical theologies.

Basically, we will read, discuss, and critique texts from some of the major movements in theology influenced by the "post/metaphysical" challenge to onto-theology first articulated in the modern period by Nietzsche and Heidegger. I say "first articulated in the modern period" because I think a good argument can be made that this critique has traveled with the "onto" of "theology" since Pseudo-Dionysus & Gregory of Nyssa (i.e., the apophatic theologians of the Patristic period). We will be reading Kant, Nietzsche, Derrida, Lyotard, Tracy, Lindbeck, Milbank, Levinas, Marion, Vattimo, and several others. I promise to post a bibliography when I have it ready.

As you might imagine, this seminar will require some strenuous prep for the Ole' Prof here, so please feel free to browse the Buy Philosophy & Theology for Fr. Philip Wish List and see if the Spirit moves you to purchase a text that will help me help my students understand and undermine the destructive elements of post/metaphysical theology.

I've said before that teaching this stuff is like being the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts! So, pray for me as well...

Catholic Truth Society and Two OP books



The Catholic Truth Society runs one of the best Catholic bookshops in London. The store is situated right off the plaza in front of Westminster Cathedral. The Cathedral Bookstore is impressive as well.

Be sure to check out, 8 Deadly Sins, a book by the current student master of the English Province, Fr. Vivian Boland, OP.

Fr. Boland is also the author of Spiritual Warfare.

01 October 2007

Turn, go to the playground

Little Flower: Isa 66.10-14 and Matthew 18.1-4
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St.
Albert the Great Priory, Irving, TX


First, we have the Kroger Child who starts screaming at the door, screams from the mangos and hot dog buns all the way through picnic supplies and dried pastas and on to organic juices, candy bars, and trashy gossip magazines at the register. Then we have the two little girls, five and seven, who sit quietly through the 7.30 Sunday Mass, run up to me immediately after, hug my legs, and thank me for being a priest. And then you have the hundreds of neo-natals in ICU’s across the country; the kids at Family Gateway and the Merilac Center w/o parents or homes; the fifty children on CBS’ latest “reality show,” living w/o adults in a “Lord of the Flies” scenario, complete with readily available tribal make-up and hundreds of cameras; we have the children in our lives, these here, those at home, in school, the ones we see only in pictures from our own kids. . .and then we have those who show us how to get into heaven. Jesus says to his disciples: “Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Perhaps it is time we turned to the playground again.

You have to imagine the scene clearly. Jesus is praying quietly by himself. His disciples, the twelve and probably a few others, all grown men in their thirties and forties, approach Jesus expectantly. He opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, and waits for the question. And what cosmos-quaking question do these students of the Anointed Messiah ask their master? What is the nature of peace? Of mercy? How do we live abundantly in poverty? Hunger? No. They want to know who among them will be the greatest in heaven. Ah, it’s about ambition, about being the alpha-dog. You can almost feel the heat from Jesus’ embarrassment and perhaps just a degree or two of his anger. Jesus—no doubt thinking: how do I get through to these thick skulls I’ve chosen to be my apostles?—calls over a child and stands the child in the middle of the group. There’s a tense silence among the nipping canine-disciples, an expectant hush as they wait to hear what incredible nonsense Jesus will try to teach them this time; and Jesus says, “Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” I see dumbfounded stares, dropped jaws, disappointment, confusion, all flavored with a bit of frustration and anger. Children!?

Yes, children. Jesus sets a child among them and anoints the child as their exemplar. He puts two conditions on entering heaven in this passage: 1) we must turn and 2) we must become like children. Turning makes perfect sense b/c as adults we would have to make radical changes, turn-a-bouts, in order to arrive back at where we started—innocence, humility, a sense of wonder. Turning is conversion, flipping over, stopping and going in reverse, facing the other direction. What does it mean for us to become like children? No doubt Jesus is pointing out the desirable qualities of a first-century Jewish child. Respect, humility, willingness to serve, eagerness to learn, docility in obedience—all of the qualities we would associate with “good kids.” He is also lifting up in this child those qualities that we sometime leave behind as adults: imagination, wonder, a perfect sense of awe, that ability and willingness to look at the world and live wholeheartedly in joy, overflowing gladness and a complete lack of pretension.

Jesus is telling us that we must become a particular kind of child. We must become small, little; without worldly ambitions, without aggressive pretense or a need for secular approval. He is telling us that we must become who we truly are already: creatures of a Creator, children of the Father. We are to be students, apprentices of charity and grace, interns of eternity. As adults of the twenty-first century, we must become the children of the first. If we would be the greatest, we must be who we truly are: the least. To do this we must turn and turn and turn. Always turning back to our heavenly Father. What else can His favorites do?

30 September 2007

Hey! Where are we going and why am I in this handbasket?!

26th Sunday OT: Amos 6.1-7; 1 Tim 6.11-16; Luke 16.19-31
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Paul
Hospital
& Church of the Incarnation

[NB. Click on the Pod-o-Matic Podcast Player to listen. The power was out on campus tonight. So, we started Mass with candlelight. I read the Gospel and as soon as the congregation said, "Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ" the lights snapped on! I misquoted a line from scripture in the homily. And as I am correcting myself, my lovely and amazing sacristan, Joycelene brings my #1 Liturgical Fan to provide me with a Holy Wind...strange night in Irving, TX.]

Let’s talk about Hell. We can’t read this gospel out loud this morning/evening without saying something about what Hell is. To skip around the subject after reading what is probably the most explicit description of Hell we have in the N.T. would be dodgy at best, irresponsible at the worst. So here goes. . .

Let’s get a definition first. From the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1033), we read: “We cannot unite with God unless we freely choose to love him.” So far, so good. We must choose to love God in order to live with Him forever. Continuing, “But we cannot love God if we sin gravely against him, against our neighbor or against ourselves.” How do we fail to love God? How do we reject His invitation to live with Him forever? We sin against Him, our neighbors (meaning any other human being), and ourselves.

Alright, how do we sin? Let’s read a definition of sin and then return to Hell (no pun!): “Sin is an offense against reason, truth, and right conscience…” When we act against, speak against, desire against reason, truth, and our properly form conscience, we sin. Continuing on: “…[sin is a] failure in genuine love for God and neighbor caused by a perverse attachment to certain goods.” OK. When you are attached viciously (in a manner of a vice, a bad habit) to goods that are not The Good (God), then you fail to give your love to God and to your neighbors. So, loving things or ideas or desires in a way that fundamentally excludes God is a failure in genuine love. And more: “[Sin] wounds the nature of man and injures human solidarity.” When you act against, speak against, and desire against reason, truth, and your rightly formed conscience, you wound or injure your very nature; in other words, you damage that which makes you loveable to God and the rest of us—your creaturliness, your nature as a redeemed child of the Father. One more: “[Sin] sets itself against God’s love for us and turns our hearts away from [God’s love]…Sin is thus (according to St Augustine) ‘love of oneself even to the contempt of God.’”

Now, back to Hell. Remember: we cannot be united with God if we sin against Him, neighbor, or self. The CCC continues: “Our Lord warns us that we shall be separated from him if we fail to meet the serious needs of the poor and the little ones who are his brethren.” This is straight from Matthew’s gospel: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, visit the imprisoned. (Matt 25.31-46). More: “[To die in sin] without repenting or accepting God’s merciful love means remaining separated from him forever by [your] own free choice.” That is, if you leave this life having lived apart from God—His love, His mercy—and you leave this life having failed to help those in need, you will live in eternity in exactly the same way you lived this life: separated from God. Hell, therefore, “[is the state] of definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed…” Did you hear that? Hell is the definitive self-exclusion from an eternal life with God and His saints. SELF-exclusion. You put yourself in Hell. God wants you in heaven with Him. Why would He put you Hell? Answer: He wouldn’t. Or rather: He won’t!

Paul tells Timothy: “Lay hold of eternal life, to which you are called when you made the noble confession in the presence of many witnesses.” You do this by pursuing “righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, and gentleness.” Paul urges Timothy: “Compete well for the faith.” The better translation reads: “Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you were made.” Did you hear that? You are made to live with God forever! God created you, created all of us in such a way that we can live beyond this life of flesh and blood, beyond our sin, beyond death itself—we can live with Him in “unapproachable light.”* But we cannot live with Him if we sin. Not now and not forever.

The Rich man in Luke’s gospel finds himself suffering torment in the flames of Hell. Why? Because he was rich? No. Because he wore purple garments and ate sumptuously on fine linen? No and no. Because he drove a Land Rover? Wore Gucci and Donna Karan? Vacationed in France? No, no, and no. The Rich Man is burning in Hell b/c “he received what was good in [his] lifetime” and left his neighbor, Lazarus, hungry and dying at his door. For the Rich Man, Lazarus was his way into eternal life and he, the Rich Man, stepped over Lazarus, letting him suffer the agony of his sores and watching him, day-by-day, die of starvation. How ironic then that the Rich Man, once he is in Hell, asks Abraham to send Lazarus to him with just a drop of cool water on his finger! Unfortunately, for the Rich Man, such a thing is impossible. Once you have chosen how you will live your eternity, you have chosen. Choose wisely.

Now this is the point in the homily where I am supposed to guilt you into giving money to charity or volunteering at the homeless shelter. Do I need to do that? No. We Catholics are famous for our works of mercy. If you aren’t giving money to charity or volunteering to help the poor, start now. No, I don’t want to guilt you into service. Rather I want to make sure you have heard the subtext of this homily—and for that matter, the plain text of our Mass readings. I’ll say it clearly so there is no confusion: God does not want you in Hell. God made you and me to live with Him. He called us to lives of righteousness. He sent His only Son to die for us so that we can live with Him forever. He does everything in His power to seduce us into a life of Love with Him…everything, that is, except take away our free choice and turn us into programmed androids. He loves us so much that He will respect our freedom to reject Him and honor our decision to live without Him. In other words, God will love us straight into Hell. But please, please hear this: He does not want us in Hell nor will He just randomly toss us into Hell. That’s our choice. Not His. A mature relationship with the Father is rooted in His love for us—He loved us first and loves us last—and we come to the fullness of our humanity when we take His love for us and spread it around.

Finally, God is not hiding behind your bathroom door just waiting for you to sin. He is not under your bed taking notes and hoping you “go too far.” He is not floating above your car praying that you will slip up and cuss someone in traffic so He can crash your car in punishment. Ours is not a GOTCHA God who lurks in dark places just hoping we will mess up so He can get us. Nor is he a petty little god of tiny faults and minute flaws, hungry for theological error and spiritual laziness. This kind of god does not provide a way out nor does he/she open avenues of forgiveness and blessing. This kind of god does not bother to care for his/her wicked creatures, but focuses his/her energy on the Bright and Chosen. In this god’s world, the poor are an embarrassment, a trial, and an offense. The wicked are simply disobedient and subject to arbitrary punishment. Fortunately, we do not worship Zeus and Hera, but Christ Jesus who is our forgiveness and our salvation.

For the sake of your spiritual maturity, please move beyond the god of constant surveillance, beyond the god of terrible Gotcha’s, beyond the god of retribution and blood. Move toward the God of Christ, the God who sent His only child, His son, to die for us once on the cross. We are free from sin in his death and resurrection. We are freed, we are free in his one sacrifice for us. Fight the good fight of the faith not the already, always lost battle of “do-it-yourself” salvation. You didn’t create yourself, so you can’t re-recreate yourself. Choose now to love as you are loved and choose against Hell itself.

*For reasons known only to God and my misfiring synapses, I pronounced this as "irreproachable." There is no such word. Duh.

Oh, the possibilities!


Please continue to pray for my discernment!

As some of you here in Irving know, I have been in conversation with several different people about the possibilities for my ministry in the next few years. Some of these possibilities include teaching at U.D. full-time, advanced studies in philosophical theology in Europe, and a few others that remain sub stola.

As of yesterday morning, the list of possibilities has been narrowed considerably. Though I've received no final word, it is almost certain that my first choice for ministry has been eliminated.

My second choice is going to be a HUGE challenge. . .. . .

And my third choice (sssshhhhhhh. . .) is still brewing in prayer. . .

I will flesh these out for you more later--when I know for certain that this or that possibility has been eliminated.

In other news: any bishops out there looking for an orthodox Dominican friar to run your diocesan religious ed program, or any university/college department chairs who might need an experienced classroom teacher. . .I know a guy who knows a guy who can hook you up with a well-educated O.P. who would run a tight yet creative ship for you! Drop me a combox note and I'll pass it along to this friar's superiors.

Pray hard, Fr. Philip, OP

28 September 2007

Because Christ was first. . .

Dominican Martyrs: Haggai 2.1-9 and Luke 9.18-22
Fr. Philip N. Powell, OP
St Albert
the Great Priory & Church of the Incarnation


The disciples could have said anything. Anything at all, really. They could have said, “You are a king come to save us from the political oppression of the Roman pigs.” Or, “You are this age’s particular, historical enfleshment of divine-human healing; a cosmic sign in flesh and blood, portending the eschatological consummation of the community of the divine.” Or, more simply, “You are John the Baptist, Elijah, or some other ancient prophet.” They could have said most anything. But what do they say when Jesus asks them, “…who do you say that I am?” Peter answers, “The Christ of God.” And Jesus smiles and congratulates his student. The other disciples whoop-it-up in celebration that the secret is known, and Jesus, finally relieved of the burden of his identity, relaxes and prepares for a kinder, gentler ministry among The Knowing. Yea, not quite. Jesus rebukes them and orders them not to tell anyone what they know. Then, having mastered the art of cold water surprises to the face, Jesus Buzzkill predicts his passion, death, and resurrection. Party over with. Again, not quite.

Notice that the Crowds say that Jesus is just some ancient prophet risen again. And, despite the fact that Jesus asks all of the disciples the question at hand—who do you say that I am?—it is Peter alone who answers, “The Christ of God.” But for this correct answer Jesus rebukes them all and silences them! Why? At the exact point where his less than brilliant students finally get that he is who he says he is—the Messiah, the Christ—Jesus not only orders them to silence but chastises them for knowing the truth. Again, why?

Jesus knows that the Party is long from over. In fact, he knows how the whole thing ends and says so: betrayal, arrest, trial, rejection by the chief priests, execution, and resurrection—third-day-dead. He knows all of this. And he knows that Peter, the one with all the correct answers, will deny him over and over and over again. And he knows that he will go to his execution alone. That he must go alone—without his friends, without his fans, without his family. No crowding followers. No mobs of zealous converts trying to rescue him. No bloody riots in his name. Just a shameful death on a cross. The Christ of God dying—beaten and abandoned—on a cross.

Why couldn’t that be John on that cross, or Elijah, or Peter himself? Why didn’t the Romans and temple authorities arrest Jesus’ students and hang them up as well? His family? Why didn’t the whole lot of them meet their gruesome end as theological subversives, or liberating guerillas fighting against Rome? Why was it Christ alone that died on that cross? Jesus asks his students, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers, “The Christ of God.” Jesus rebuked them and ordered them not to tell no one. And no one knew that Peter knew. And no one knew that the Jesus’ disciples knew. No one knew. And Jesus knew that no one would know until he rose again and came again in a roaring wind with fire and then, and then, everybody to eyes to see and ears to hear was gonna know: Jesus is the Christ of God!

Jesus is the Christ of God. He is the only one who could die on the cross for us. We cannot say that Jesus is only one Christ among many. Though we can say that we are all Christs in the world because he was Christ first. We cannot say that Jesus is one incarnation of divinity among many. Though we can say that we are all being perfected in divinity because the Son became flesh first. We cannot say that Jesus is just one man among many, dead on a cross, and risen again for our eternal lives. Though we can say that we have all died with him, and we will rise with him because he died for us and rose for us first.

The crowds still say that he is a prophet, a teacher, an avatar, a buddha of sorts. Peter says, even now, and we say with him still, “Jesus is the Christ of God!”

27 September 2007

Entertaining the Novices


I recently discovered this Universal Fact:

Any word placed in front of the word "monkey" makes a funny phrase.

Try it. . .

Thanks, Rewrite, and Hire me!

I want to thank all of the thirty-something-odd bloggers out there who linked to my post, "Kids These Days..." The power of the blog to disseminate information and opinion is simply amazing.
I also want to thank all of those who posted comments here and the ones who sent me private emails--including one or two or more?--gentlemen who wear pointy hats to Mass. Your support is invaluable.

Also, my post received a lot of compliments (thanks!) and a few snarky dismissals (whatever) and a few very well-done critical appraisals from people I respect quite a bit.

I will mention one criticism here in particular and offer to make amends for it. More than one commenter on another blog and more than one in private emails took me to task for they called "problems with tone," i.e. they noted that I am coming across as "sarcastic and bitter." OK. I am a bit sarcastic. OK! OK! I am a lot sarcastic. I'm not bitter at all. I am frequently a Disappointed Idealist, but I do not wallow in regret or bitterness. No fun in that.

Also in my defense: 1) I'm a born and bred Southerner and we have a weird sense of humor down here, and 2) I survived liberal arts grad school in the '90's...which means I have a "survival of the fittest" attitude when it comes to debate. We were trained by Hungry Pitbulls with Radical Political Agendas. Sometimes my Mississippi "Suffer No Fools" humor and my "Gut Them Before They Gut You" mentality combine to create a literary monster. These are reasons...not excuses.

Anyway, my critics claim that my legit message would be better served w/o the smart-ass attitude. [Why does my Mama's voice suddenly ring in my head?!] And I agree to a degree. I think what resonates with people in that post is my willingness to "tell it like it is."

The emotional energy of the post is frustration and just a bit of anger. A passive critical slap in the direction of the offenders would have been much less effective with those who read this blog regularly. In other words, I was writing to my audience.

Now, I also realize that the sarcasm does not come off as very professional and this may lead people who don't know me to believe that I am an Unprofessional Priest. Far from it.

So, here's my offer: if anyone out there wants to use my post, "Kids These Days..." but finds the sarcastic tone to be too much or potentially off-putting to those you think might benefit from the actual argument, let me know via the combox and I will rewrite the post in more "professional" language for your use.

I'm only going to do this if there is a demand for it. Please, don't ask me to do just to see what such a post might look like. If you want to reprint in a bulletin or something like that, well, OK...I'll do it.

+ + + + + +

I am frequently asked if I am available for retreats, conferences, missions, lectures, writing jobs, etc. outside the University of Dallas setting.

The answer is: YES!

I have done all of the above on more than one occasion. And I am happy to do more. The only problem is that I am incredibly busy with my full-time job and two part-time jobs plus community commitments.

That said: I like to stay busy. So, it can't hurt to ask.

If you want to inquire about having me come speak or teach or "dance liturgically" (that would be U-G-L-Y, btw) or write something for publication, contact me at neripowell (at) yahoo (dot) com. You can also contact me through the Campus Ministry office of the University of Dallas (here).

The Priory usually asks for travel reimbursement and an agreed-upon stipend--contingent on time spent in prep work, degree of difficulty, time on-site, etc.

God Bless, Fr. Philip, OP