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Ecumenism and Canon Law

Ecumenism and Canon Law | R. Michael Dunnigan | CWR

Thoughts on Cardinal DiNardo's recent decision to allow the Methodist ordination of a woman in the Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart in Houston

Cardinal Daniel DiNardo, the Archbishop of Galveston-Houston, recently permitted the United Methodist Church to celebrate an ordination service at the Catholic Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart in Houston. This event has set in motion a wave of criticism on orthodox Catholic blogs and websites. The criticism generally has focused on the fact that the Catholic Church does not recognize the validity of Methodist ordinations, and the fact that the presiding Methodist bishop was a woman. The prevailing critiques also charge Cardinal Di Nardo with the sin of scandal. However, the commentary to date has included little discussion of the law of the Church.

A follower of the vigorous criticism directed against Cardinal DiNardo might be surprised to learn that the cardinal’s decision enjoys relatively strong support in canon law. I do not mean that the law commands the accommodation that Cardinal DiNardo made for the Methodists, but rather that it provides him with ample discretion to make such a decision. Although the primary purpose of churches and cathedrals is for Catholic worship, canon 1210 makes allowance for some other uses of sacred places as well.

What other uses are permissible? Such uses must be only occasional, and they must not be opposed to the holiness of the place (cf. can. 1210). An example of an activity that would be contrary to the holiness of a church would be a political rally. By contrast, a legitimate other activity that might occasionally be held in a church would be a historical lecture.

Does a Methodist liturgy qualify as a legitimate other use of the Catholic cathedral? Canon 1210 itself does not directly answer this question, but the breadth of its language seems to allow any occasional use that is not contrary to the sacredness of the place. Moreover, in the 1993 Ecumenical Directory, the Holy See says outright that it sometimes is permissible for a non-Catholic liturgy to take place in a Catholic church.

Many Catholics will be surprised to learn this.

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Sinners, Prophets, and the Business of Heaven

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, June 16, 2013 | Carl E. Olson

Readings:

2 Sm 12:7-10, 13
Ps 32:1-2, 5, 7, 11
Gal 2:16, 19-21
Lk 7:36—8:3 or 7:36-50

What did the most famous king in the Old Testament and a poor, anonymous woman in the Gospels have in common? They were both sinners. They were both in need of forgiveness. And they both knew it.

King David’s sin is as well-known as the woman’s sin in today’s Gospel reading is unknown. David, having witnessed the beauty of the wife of Uriah the Hittite, one of David’s loyal warriors, arranged to have Uriah put on the front lines of battle, where he was killed. It was the darkest moment of David’s often magnificent and noble life, and the king finally confessed to the prophet Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.” In the Psalm written after Nathan had confronted him about his murderous actions, the repentant David wrote, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me. … Deliver me from bloodguilt, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance” (Psa. 51:10, 14).

David’s life and sin were chronicled in great detail, by others and by himself. His remorse was expressed with poetic poignancy by his own pen. It is quite a contrast to the sinful woman who came to the house of the Pharisee where Jesus was invited to dine. Her name is not given, her sins are not described or listed, and if she uttered any words, they are not recorded. She may have been a prostitute; whatever the case, her sins were apparently public and well-known. 

These various facts and details are not of primary concern to Luke the Evangelist because he is intent on revealing Christ’s mercy, love, and power to forgive sins. “You perceive,” wrote St. Peter Chrysologus about this particular story, “that Christ came to the Pharisee’s table not to be filled with food for the body but to carry on the business of heaven while he was in the flesh.” 

A significant amount of this business of heaven was worked out within the earthly context of Jesus’ ongoing debates and confrontations with the Pharisees. The host, the Pharisee Simon, was concerned with judging—was Jesus a true prophet?—which is why Jesus asked him a question that required his judgment as a Pharisee, an interpreter of the Law. Simon, in judging rightly the answer to Jesus’ question, rendered judgment upon his own actions, or lack of actions. The problem was that Simon, like many of the Pharisees, was fixated on the letter of law, while failing to love the Giver of the law.

Put another way, Simon had asked Jesus into his home in order to judge Jesus, while the sinful woman sought out Jesus in order to kiss and anoint his feet. The Pharisee wished to stand face to face with the Incarnate Word in stubborn wariness; the woman desired only to worship at his feet in a silent act of vulnerable love. She did not have to give verbal expression to her sorrow and repentance for her actions spoke louder than words. Her sins, Jesus said, were forgiven “because she has shown great love” and because of her faith: “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

We are not saved by faith alone but, as the Apostle Paul told the Galatians, who were being tempted to embrace a form of Pharisaism: “For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is of any avail, but faith working through love” (Gal. 5:6). Faith, James emphasized, is dead without works—and those works are animated by charity and oriented toward God and neighbor (James 2:8-18). 

“To err human,” wrote Alexander Pope, “to forgive divine.” That is the essential message of today’s readings, which unflinchingly point out man’s sinful ways while rejoicing in God’s merciful ways. All of us—famous kings and unnamed women and everyone between—are sinners, and Christ died for us so that we, as Paul writes, can be crucified with Christ and thus truly live by faith and love.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the June 13, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.) 

Discernment and Communion

Discernment and Communion | Fr. Bryce Sibley | Homiletic & Pastoral Review

If young people want to properly discern a vocation, they need an expert to help guide them.

Several years ago I had a discussion with a young man about his discerning a possible vocation to the priesthood. During our conversation, this young man confidently told me that, having already completed his discernment, he was certain that he was called neither to priesthood nor to celibacy. I asked him how exactly he had arrived at this conclusion. He explained that he had prayed about it for a while, made a weekend retreat, and after that he knew with certainty that God wanted him to get married. I then asked whether he had sought counsel during discernment process—with a priest, religious, or trusted spiritual advisor? His answer was that there was no one. He had discerned he was not called to priesthood or religious life all by himself.

I know that this young man is not unique in his solitary vocational discernment. It’s something of which I have seen a fair amount over the years—young people who decide that they ought to discern a call to priesthood or the consecrated life, and then come to the conclusion about their vocation without having discussed it with anyone. While I admire the apparent willingness to discern a vocation to the priesthood or consecrated life, young people should know that honest and authentic vocational discernment can never be done alone. There is one main reason for this: no vocation in the Church is “private.”  Thus, proper vocational discernment always has a communal and ecclesial dimension. If young people come to me and say that they have discerned that they were not called to celibacy without any assistance or guidance, I usually tell them to go back to square one with the discernment process. Quite possibly they have arrived at the right conclusion, but the way in which they got there was faulty.

There are several reasons why discernment in isolation should be avoided.

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Know Him in the Breaking of Bread

Know Him in the Breaking of Bread | Fr. Francis Randolph | From Know Him in the Breaking of Bread: A Guide To The Mass

The First Mass

In the evening of the first day of the week, two disciples were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus. And one came up beside them and began to explain the Scriptures that told of Jesus the Christ, how he was destined to suffer and rise again. And as he spoke, the hearts of the disciples burned within them; they were stirred and enlightened by the new explanation of scriptural words they had heard so many times before. But it was not until they sat together, and he took bread and broke it, that they recognized that the person actually present with them was the same Jesus about whom they had been speaking (Lk 24:13-35).

From that day till this, Christians have met to hear the Scriptures explained and to know Jesus in the breaking of bread. These three elements are the essence of the Mass: Christians come together and discern the spirit of Jesus in each other. They listen to the Word of God, and their hearts burn within them as they hear it. And in the breaking of bread they recognize Jesus himself actually present, given for them.

The coming together is vital; it is only in the Church that the Mass can take place. This does not mean necessarily in a special church building, though that helps. Nor does it mean that many people are necessarily gathered on any particular occasion, though that is desirable. It means that the Mass is celebrated within the unity of the One Church, that the celebration is not a private, exclusive affair but is in conscious union with the Church throughout the world. One of the most moving descriptions of the Mass I have read is by the American Jesuit Walter Ciszek, who was a prisoner in the old Soviet Union. He managed to slip away into the forest with only one companion and celebrated Mass quietly and secretly, using a tree stump as an altar. And in so doing he was far from alone; he was one with millions of Catholics all over the world. The whole Church came into the heart of that forest; Christ was made present among a people who were unaware of his existence. That lonely Mass was very much the expression of Christians coming together, uniting in the one sacrifice. [1]

Listening to the Word of God is vital; unless we have heard about Jesus, how can we love him? There may be only a brief, whispered passage from the Gospel, or there may be a long, drawn-out sequence of readings, but in one way or other the message of Scripture must be proclaimed. The Church first expressed her faith in the words of the Bible, and the long centuries of developing tradition have deepened and enhanced those words. We do not hear them alone but within the Church that gave birth to them, and even now, even after they have been spoken so many, many times, they are still capable of awakening our hearts to burn within us.

The Blessed Sacrament: It's either All or nothing

Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for June 2, 2013, The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Gen 14:18-20
• Ps 110:1, 2, 3, 4
• 1 Cor 11:23-26
• Lk 9:11b-17

Shortly after my wife and I entered the Catholic Church in 1997, I had a conversation with an Evangelical friend that was as disconcerting as it was friendly. A.J., who I met in Bible college several years earlier, was curious about the Catholic doctrine that the Eucharist is the true Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. I say “curious” because A.J., unlike some of my other Protestant friends, was not really bothered or offended by this belief, merely puzzled. After much discussion, he said, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I believe that Communion is symbolic, and you believe it is more than a symbol. But, either way, we’re both Christians.”

His comment surprised me because it was readily evident to me—as it is to many Protestants—that the Catholic belief in the Eucharist (shared by Eastern Orthodox and Ancient Oriental Christians) is an “all or nothing” proposition. If the Eucharist is Jesus, it calls for a response of humble acceptance; if the Eucharist is not really Jesus, it is an idolatrous offense against God—worshipping bread and wine as though they are somehow divine.

On this feast day celebrating the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, the readings reveal, in different ways, the truthfulness of the ancient and consistent belief in the Eucharist. It is fitting that this great mystery has ancient roots in one of most mysterious of all biblical figures: the priest Melchizedek, who makes just one historical appearance in the Scriptures (Gen. 14:18-20), is mentioned once more in the Old Testament (Ps. 110:4), and then reappears in the seventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews.

Having just left the battlefield, Abram encountered the “king of Salem”, who was also a “priest of God Most High.” Melchizedek brought bread and wine to Abram and blessed the patriarch, and Abram responded with a tithe. Both actions indicated Melchizedek’s superior position, as noted in the letter to the Hebrews (Heb 7:1-7). It is the first time a priest is mentioned in the Scriptures, several centuries before the Hebrews had a priesthood.

“The Christian tradition,” the Catechism states, “considers Melchizedek, ‘priest of God Most High,’ as a prefiguration of the priesthood of Christ, the unique ‘high priest after the order of Melchizedek’” (CCC 1544, 1333). Christ’s priesthood is superior to the Aaronic priesthood. Because He is the Son of God and is God Himself (the argument of Hebrews 1), His priesthood is validated by His eternal nature and His infinite being (Heb. 7:16, 24ff). Melchizedek’s importance lies in his loyalty to God Most High, the purity of his intentions, and his sacrifice of bread and wine.  He represents a time when the priesthood was part of the natural order of family structure. By establishing the New and universal covenant through His death and resurrection, Jesus Christ formed a new and everlasting family of God, bound not by ethnicity, but by grace and the Holy Spirit.

And because Jesus is God, He is able to give the household of God His Body and Blood for the nourishment of soul and body, and for the forgiveness of sins. By providing this Eucharistic banquet, a foretaste of the Kingdom of God, He fulfills the promise of a worldwide family of God foreshadowed in the person of the king-priest Melchizedek. The feeding of the five thousand, described in today’s reading from Luke’s Gospel, anticipates and represents the sacrament of the Eucharist, as Christ miraculously feeds—with the assisting hands and efforts of His priests, the Apostles—those who hunger to hear His words.

If the bread and wine remained unchanged, Christ would be, at best, equal to Melchizedek. But the King of Kings said, “This is my body that is for you”, and the High Priest declared, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood.” The Eucharist is Jesus Christ. That is the great truth we humbly celebrate today—and every day we receive the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the June 10, 2007, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The Truth About Joan of Arc

The Truth About Joan of Arc | The Foreword and Preface to The Retrial of Joan of Arc by Régine Pernoud

Foreword to The Retrial of Joan of Arc: The Evidence For Her Vindication by Régine Pernoud | Katherine Anne Porter

In the many hundreds of books in French about the condemnation and retrial of Joan of Arc, the authors invariably base their criticism of the first trial on the evidence given by witnesses in the second. None of these books has been translated into English. The French seem to write them for each other, or perhaps even at this late day the English reader does not enjoy seeing his nation put so soundly and irreparably in the poorest light of its history. Whatever the reason, this is the first book based firmly on the retrial of Joan of Arc to be translated into English, and the whole tremendous history is told again, this time by her childhood playmates and relatives, her royal and noble friends, her confessor, her valet, her squires and heralds, and her fellow soldiers. There are a few of the old enemies of the first court still in Rouen, but they can do her no more harm: and indeed their presence here perhaps lends even a more powerful authenticity to this story than if we heard only from her friends.

It is indeed a beautiful book, well translated, with the speed and symmetry and direction of the life it celebrates; and besides its merit as a work of scholarship, there is warmth and sanity in it, often absent from books about Joan of Arc, who inspires strange fervors and theories. In my small collection, out of the hundreds, there is one that proves to the hilt that Joan was a Catharist, that outcropping of ancient Manichaeism in medieval Provence; another, that she and her fellow captain, Gilles de Laval, Sire de Rais, were sorcerers, adept in Black Magic. The fact that Joan's first trial has been exposed in its falseness over and over has no effect on these infatuated minds; nor that Gilles de Rais, though proved a man of bad morals, still was tried and condemned by a court as corrupt as that which condemned Joan. Still a third book has been published to prove that Joan was a by-blow of the blood royal, and that the "secret" she whispered to the Dauphin in proof of her mission was that she was his half-sister, bastard daughter of his father King Charles VI, the virgin sent to save France after France had been betrayed by a woman.

The woman who had betrayed France was the infamous Isabeau of Bavaria who disavowed her son the Dauphin to make way for Henry VI of England; she had riddled the royal family with bastardy in so many directions, it is possible she may not have been certain which of her many children were legitimate. There is still a small school of thought in France, more Royalist than any king, which holds that only royal blood could have given Joan her splendor of courage and faith. There is not a word anywhere in the records of either trial to support a claim of royal blood, yet from time to time it is put forth again with passionate lunatic arguments.

The Trinity: A Mystery for Eternity

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, May 26, 2013, The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity

Readings:
• Prov 8:22-31
• Ps 8:4-5, 6-7, 8-9
• Rom 5:1-5
• Jn 16:12-15

The apologist and novelist Dorothy Sayers dryly noted, in an essay titled “The Dogma is the Drama,” that for many people, even some Christians, the doctrine of the Trinity is, “The Father incomprehensible, the Son incomprehensible, and the whole thing incomprehensible.” There are likely a few Catholics who would candidly admit, “Well, the Church teaches that the Trinity is a mystery—and it’s certainly a mystery to me!”

In fact, the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, “The mystery of the Most Holy Trinity is the central mystery of Christian faith and life” (CCC 234). It goes on to explain that this great mystery is the most fundamental, essential teaching in the “hierarchy of the truths of faith” and that it is a mystery of faith “in the strict sense”—it cannot be known except it has been revealed by God (CCC 237). A theological mystery such as the Trinity is a truth about God known only through divine revelation, not by reason or philosophy. It is like a well with no bottom from which we can drink endlessly, our minds and souls never going away thirsty.

Belief in the Trinity—one God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is a distinctive mark of the Christian Faith. The first few centuries of the Church were filled with controversies and careful definitions regarding the one nature of God, the three Persons of the Trinity, and their relationship with each other. Yet the dogma of the Trinity cannot be proven in the usual sense of “proven” and “proof.” But this does not mean that the dogma of the Trinity is contrary to reason or that reason cannot be applied to understanding it to some degree (cf. CCC 154); it means that the Triune reality of God is ultimately beyond human reasoning. As St. Augustine remarked, “If you understood Him, it would not be God” (CCC 230).

Today’s readings do not use the term “Trinity,” of course, because it doesn’t appear in Scripture. But they are some of the many texts the Church has looked to as either foreshadowing the reality of the Trinity or giving explicit witness to it.  The reading from Proverbs is one of several Old Testament passages that describe the wisdom of God, which is often referred to as a sort of personal being or reality. Some of this language is taken up in the New Testament to refer to the Son, including St. Paul’s description of Christ as “the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24). Or, similarly, in a passage that bears a strong resemblance to today’s reading from Proverbs, the “one Lord, Jesus Christ” is described as the one “through whom all things are and through whom we exist” (1 Cor 8:6).

While the Old Testament contains hints and suggestions, the mystery of the Trinity was revealed with the Incarnation—first at Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan River, and then in His teachings. Jesus spoke of the intimate communion between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, including in today’s reading from the Gospel of John. “Everything that the Father has is mine,” Jesus tells the Apostles, “for this reason I told you that he”—the Holy Spirit—“will taken from what is mine and declare it to you.” The Father sends forth the Son so that, as St. Paul wrote to the Romans, we might have peace with God, while the Holy Spirit pours out God’s love, all so we might be justified and made right with God.

In his great work The Trinity, St. Augustine summed up the heart of the Church’s belief in the mystery of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit by simply stating, “If you see charity, you see the Trinity.” God is One and three Persons; He offers His divine life and love to those who believe in Him (CCC 257). The Trinity is not just a mystery to us, but also for us.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the June 3, 2007, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger on what "the feast of the Ascension wants to teach us"

From Images of Hope: Meditations on Major Feasts, in a chapter titled, "The Beginning of a New Nearness":

You are surely familiar with all those precious, naïve images in which only the feet of Jesus are visible, sticking out of the cloud, at the heads of the apostles. The cloud, for its part, is a dark circle on the perimeter; on the inside, however, blazing light. It occurs to me that precisely in the apparent naïveté of this representation something very deep comes into view. All we see of Christ in the time of history are his feet and the cloud. His feet—what are they? We are reminded, first of all, of a peculiar sentence from the Resurrection account in Matthew's Gospel, where it is said that the women held onto the feet of the Risen Lord and worshipped him. As the Risen One, he towers over earthly proportions. We can still only touch his feet; and we touch them in adoration. Here we could reflect that we come as worshippers, following his trail, close to his footsteps. Praying, we go to him; praying, we touch him, even if in this world, so to speak, always only from below, only from afar, always only on the trail of his earthly steps. At the same time it becomes clear that we do not find the footprints of Christ when we look only below, when we measure only footprints and want to subsume faith in the obvious. The Lord is movement toward above, and only in moving ourselves, in looking up and ascending, do we recognize him. When we read the Church Fathers something important is added. The correct ascent of man occurs precisely where he learns, in humbly turning toward his neighbor, to bow very deeply, down to his feet, down to the gesture of the washing of feet. It is precisely humility, which can bow low, that carries man upward. This is the dynamic of ascent that the feast of the Ascension wants to teach us. 

Read another excerpt from the same book, "Primacy in Love."

The Image of Man Has Been Raised Up: On the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord

The Image of Man Has Been Raised Up: On the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord | Carl E. Olson 

"You ascended into glory, O Christ our God, and You delighted the disciples with the promise of the Holy Spirit. Through this blessing, they were assured that You are the Son of God, the Redeemer of the World."
—Troparion for the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, Feast of the Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ

"Christ's Ascension is therefore not a spectacle for the disciples but an event into which they themselves are included. It is a sursum corda, a movement toward the above into which we are all called. It tells us that man can live toward the above, that he is capable of attaining heights. More: the altitude that alone is suited to the dimensions of being human is the altitude of God himself. Man can live at this height, and only from this height do we properly understand him. The image of man has been raised up, but we have the freedom to tear it down or to let ourselves be raised."
— Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, from Images of Hope: Meditations On Major Feasts (Ignatius Press, 2006)

---

Readings:

• Acts 1:1-11
• Psa. 47:2-3, 6-7, 8-9
• Eph. 1:17-23 or Heb. 9:24-28; 10:19-23
• Lk 24:46-53

"As he blessed them he parted from them and was taken up to heaven." (Lk 24:51)

With these simple, matter-of-fact words, Luke describes the Ascension of Jesus, expressed even more concisely in the Creed: "He ascended into heaven." This event is so important for Luke that the Acts of the Apostles opens with a description of the same event. As the disciples looked on, Luke records, Jesus "was lifted up, and a cloud took him from their sight" (Acts 1:9). Mark's account, heard today, is equally direct and succinct: "So then the Lord Jesus, after he spoke to them, was taken up into heaven and took his seat at the right hand of God" (Mk. 16:19).

This dramatic moment has been celebrated in the Church on the fortieth day after Easter since the earliest centuries. Some of the Church Fathers, including Augustine, said that the feast had been observed since the time of the apostles, although the earliest evidence of its celebration dates to the fifth century. In the Latin Rite in the United States the Feast of the Ascension is one of six solemnities, the others being the solemnities of Mary, Mother of God (January 1); the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (August 15); All Saints (November 1), the Immaculate Conception (December 8), and the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ (December 25).

Despite being a solemnity and a holy day of obligation, the Feast of the Ascension is sometimes completely overlooked or not given much attention. Ask Catholics what is the significance of the Feast and answers aren't always immediate. The rather mysterious nature of the Feast is heightened in some ecclesiastical provinces by its transference from the sixth Thursday of Easter to the following Sunday. In a way, the Solemnity bears a resemblance to the sacrament of Confirmation, the exact meaning of which is not always understood well and suffers for not being more clearly explained and comprehended.

This occasional murkiness is unfortunate because the Ascension is such a joyful event in the work and life of Jesus Christ, as well as being a vital reality in the ongoing life and mission of the Church. To appreciate this joy and vitality we should keep in mind what the Catechism of the Catholic Church states about the liturgical calendar: The Church, "in the course of the year, . . . unfolds the whole mystery of Christ from his Incarnation and Nativity through his Ascension, to Pentecost and the expectation of the blessed hope of the coming of the Lord" (CCC, 1194).

Hinted at here are revealing parallels between the Incarnation and the Ascension and between the Nativity and Pentecost. In the Incarnation the eternal Son of God took on human nature in order to save mankind. By the power of the Holy Spirit, divinity and humanity were united in one Person; the Word became flesh (Jn 1:14) and lowered Himself to the level of dust and death. The Nativity is the physical, outward revelation of this reality: the Christ Child is born and history and the world are never the same.

At the Ascension the crucified, risen Son of God returns to His Father. Having descended to dusty earth, He now returns to heavenly glory. Having conquered death, He ascends to eternal life. But He returns to the right hand of the Father not just as the Word, but as the Incarnate Word. The doors of heaven are now open and humanity can now approach the throne room of God, the way having been paved by the life, death, and resurrection of the God-man. Pentecost, finally, is the manifestation of the God-man's Church, which is both human and divine. The Church was revealed to the world on that day—fifty days after Easter—by the power of the Holy Spirit.

All of this theology is nice enough, but what does it mean for us? It means the Feast of the Ascension is a celebration of salvation won. The Catholic Encyclopedia notes that "in the Eastern Church this feast was known as analepsis, the taking up, and also as the episozomene, the salvation, denoting that by ascending into His glory Christ completed the work of our redemption." The tendency is often to think of the Resurrection as the culmination of Jesus' salvific work, but it is the Ascension that places the final stamp of approval on the sacrificial and victorious work of our Savior. This is beautifully expressed in the first chapter of Paul's epistle to the Ephesians:

May the eyes of your hearts be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call, what are the riches of glory in his inheritance among the holy ones, and what is the surpassing greatness of his power for us who believe, in accord with the exercise of his great might: which he worked in Christ, raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand in the heavens ... (Eph. 1:17-20).

Now that the Incarnate Son of God has ascended into heaven and sits in the throne room of God, mankind can follow. United to the Son through baptism and deepening communion with Him through reception of the Holy Eucharist and the other sacraments, the hope of heaven is ours.

"The ascension of Christ is our elevation," declared Leo the Great in a sermon on the Ascension, "Hope for the body is also invited where the glory of the Head preceded us. Let us exult, dearly beloved, with worthy joy and be glad with a holy thanksgiving. Today we not only are established as possessors of paradise, but we have even penetrated the heights of the heavens in Christ." Where the sin of the first Adam closed the gates of Paradise, the righteousness of the new Adam has opened them wide.

Jesus promised His disciples that He would prepare a place for them (Jn. 14). Because of the Ascension, we know He has prepared a place for those who are His. Because of the Ascension, we have the hope of His return and of our future passage into glory. "The Ascension, then," Pope John Paul II explained in May 2000, "is a Trinitarian epiphany which indicates the goal to which personal and universal history is hastening. Even if our mortal body dissolves into the dust of the earth, our whole redeemed self is directed on high to God, following Christ as our guide."

Our Guide has come, died, rose from the dead, and ascended into heaven. Let us celebrate the Feast!

(This article was originally published in 2004 in Our Sunday Visitor in a slightly different form.)

The Glorious Chant of "Angels and Saints at Ephesus"

The Glorious Chant of "Angels and Saints at Ephesus" | Christopher S. Morrissey | Catholic World Report

A beautiful new album from the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles, helps us make room in our lives for truth.

Everybody likes singing Sisters. I remember as a child hearing the music that my mother liked to play. They were vinyl records and sometimes my memory can still recreate the voices of those women religious.

Today the delivery method has changed. Direct digital downloads are now possible. Recently, some liturgical chants have been finding their way out from the Priory of Our Lady of Ephesus and into the world by way of the digital path.

The Sisters there live a life of union with God in prayer according to the Rule of St. Benedict. They have a love for the traditional liturgy and devote themselves in a special way to prayerfully interceding for the sacred priesthood and to making vestments and altar linens. Founded in 1995, this young, monastic order of Sisters sings together eight times a day, chanting the Divine Office in Latin.

Their previous album with De Montfort Music and Decca Records, Advent at Ephesus, was a big hit last year. This week, their new album, Angels and Saints at Ephesus, is released. It contains a nice selection of hymns and chants from various liturgical occasions.

Nine-time International Grammy-winning producer Christopher Alder (from Germany) and two-time Grammy-winning engineer Mark Donahue worked together to capture the sound of the Sisters in their contemplative environment. Because the music comes forth from the genuine liturgical life lived by the Sisters, it has an authenticity and purity that gives it a special charm.

I think that if we make a deliberate effort to integrate this sort of music into our own daily practices, we can, when we listen to it, create a space in our lives that helps us replace ugliness with beauty. We can thereby dwell in a place where we become better able to contemplate truth and to grow in our understanding of truth.

The reason I emphasize this link between beauty and truth is because Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, when he was still a cardinal, made a very important speech on this theme. It was called, “Wounded By the Arrow of Beauty,” and it is still available in a book from Ignatius Press.

“The encounter with beauty can become the wound of the arrow that strikes the soul and thus makes it see clearly, so that henceforth it has criteria, based on what it has experienced, and can now weigh the arguments correctly,” said then-Cardinal Ratzinger.

Beauty thus serves a great purpose. It educates our perceptions in order that we may proceed to grasp truth better. As Ratzinger explained it, beauty “brings us into contact with the power of truth.” The danger, however, is that an album such as Angels and Saints at Ephesus becomes just another commodity in the marketplace. And if we are honest, we will observe that such has often been the case with previous instances of hit records of sacred music. (Anyone remember the Gregorian chant craze from a while back?)

The problem is that people sample an exotic new thing only for a while. They enter into its spirit only in a superficial way. They soon move on to something else that becomes a newer source of distraction or excitement in their lives.

Continue reading on the CWR site.

Benedict and Francis: A Lesson in Apostolic Continuity

Benedict and Francis: A Lesson in Apostolic Continuity | William L. Patenaude | Catholic World Report

The differences between the two men give witness to the different gifts of the same Holy Spirit

When Pope Francis visited his predecessor at Castle Gandolfo in March, he said to Benedict XVI that “we are brothers.” This image nicely frames the differences between them. It underscores that the election of Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio was not a rupture in the Church (as some suggest) but an unexpected lesson in apostolic continuity.

Specifically, both men have illuminated from different perspectives the relation between the primacy of God’s offering of grace in the liturgy of the altar and subsequent encounters of man and neighbor in the liturgies of love in everyday life. While Pope Benedict most often stressed the encounter of God with man—which then calls for and makes possible authentic encounters with neighbor—Pope Francis has stressed man’s interactions with each other, which allows us to bring Christ to a world despairing in atheistic politics and individual spiritualities.

These and other forms of despair are well known to both men. Joseph Ratzinger witnessed it in the rise and fall of Nazi Germany and the brutality of Communist and other explicitly secular regimes. Jorge Bergoglio witnessed it in the poverty and politics of Argentina. He has also echoed Benedict XVI’s concern over a “dictatorship of relativism.”

Providentially, both men share particular theological remedies for all this. In his autobiography Milestones, Ratzinger calls attention to the writings of theologians like Henri de Lubac—the twentieth century Jesuit that is also appreciated by Pope Francis. Ratzinger recalls his delight in de Lubac’s expression of Catholicism as a “social faith, conceived and lived as a we—a faith that, precisely as such and according to its nature, was also hope, affecting history as a whole, and not only the promise of a private blissfulness to individuals.”

Today, Pope Francis is demonstrating the power of these words. He has offered stunning visuals that have captivated international audiences. And he exhorts the faithful to love likewise. In his March 27^th General Audience, he said that “[f]ollowing and accompanying Christ, staying with him, demands ‘coming out of ourselves’, requires us to be outgoing; to come out of ourselves, out of a dreary way of living faith that has become a habit, out of the temptation to withdraw into our own plans which end by shutting out God’s creative action.”

Some who cheer these words groaned eight years ago when the College of Cardinals elected Joseph Ratzinger to succeed Pope John Paul II.

Continue reading on the CWR site.

The Holy Spirit: Gift, Counselor, Advocate, Helper

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for May 5, 2013, the Sixth Sunday of Easter | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Acts 15:2-2, 22-29
• Ps 67:2-3, 5, 6, 8
• Rev 21:10-14, 22-23
• Jn 14:23:-29

“A gift is freely given,” wrote St. Thomas Aquinas, “and expects no return. Its reason is love. What is first given is love; that is the first gift. The Holy Spirit comes forth as the substance of love, and Gift is his proper name.”

The Holy Spirit is the gift given by the Father, Jesus told the disciples in the Upper Room. This gift given in Jesus’ name is called Parákletos, which is translated in various ways: Counselor, Advocate, Helper. It means, literally, “one called alongside of” to aid, exhort, and encourage. He is, remarked the Jesuit priest and poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins, one “who stirs up, urges forward, who calls on … what a trumpet is to a soldier, that a Paraclete is to the soul…”

The name appears five times in the New Testament: once in 1 John, where it refers to Jesus as the advocate before the Father on the behalf of sinners (1 Jn. 2:1), and four times in the Gospel of John, referring to the Holy Spirit. Those four references are in the Last Supper discourse (Jn. 13-16), during which Jesus prepared his closest companions—the future leaders of his Church—for his death, his Resurrection, and the sending of the Gift. That sending, of course, took place on Pentecost, and today’s readings help prepare us for Pentecost by having us contemplate the work of the third Person of the Trinity.

The Greek word was used in legal settings to refer to an attorney making a defense in court on behalf of someone accused. The Holy Spirit strengthens those who belong to Christ, standing beside them in support as they battle temptation, endure the trials of this world, and rebut the accusations of the devil, “the accuser” (Rev. 12:10). But the Holy Spirit is not just beside us, but resides within those who have been baptized; he is, as the Creed states, the “giver of life.” The life he gives is the divine life of God, who is perfect love—an eternal exchange of divine love: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. “Whoever loves me,” Jesus told his disciples, “will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him.” Filled with the Trinitarian life, we are made temples of the Holy Spirit. “Do you not know,” St. Paul asked the Corinthians, “that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Cor. 3:16; cf. CCC 782, 1197)

The Holy Spirit would be sent, Jesus explained, to teach and to remind. This was a specific promise to the apostles, who were granted definite authority from Jesus, including the authority to teach, to govern, and to forgive sins in his name and by his power (cf. Jn. 20:22-23). Today’s reading from the Acts of the Apostles is a significant example of this authority, a description of the Council at Jerusalem, which convened in A.D. 49, some fifteen years or so after the Resurrection. The Council consisted of “the apostles and the elders” who had gathered together to look into the dispute over the necessity of circumcision for Gentile converts, and come to a solution regarding the growing tensions between Jewish and Gentile believers.

The key phrase written by the apostles—in reflecting here on the power and work of the Paraclete—is this: “It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and us…” There was no conflict between the apostles and the Holy Spirit, for they had been given the Paraclete in order to teach, to lead, to guide, and, when necessary, decide.

In making a decision involving the relationship between the old covenant and the new covenant, the Apostles were participating in Christ’s work of love and peace. Granted authority by the head of the Church, they protected the Church from division—not due to their natural abilities, but because of the One who counsels, consoles, and advocates. He is Gift, who comes to guide “into all the truth” (Jn. 16:13).

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the May 9, 2010, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Apocalypse How?

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, April 21st, the Fourth Sunday of Easter | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Acts 13:14, 43-52
• Ps 100:1-2, 3, 5
• Rev 7:9, 14b-17
• Jn 10:27-30

Pop quiz: which book of the Bible describes black helicopters, high-tech warfare involving Russia and China, and computer chips embedded in human flesh?

Hopefully you answered, “None.” But you may know that some Christians believe the Book of Revelation, or The Apocalypse, describes soon-to-transpire, end of the world events in harrowing detail. And most people—even many Catholics—believe that the final book of the Bible is an unremitting work of doom, gloom, and bloodshed.

John the Revelator’s book undoubtedly contains images of doom and gloom, but not for those who stand for and with Christ. And while there is plenty of bloodshed in the Book of Revelation, the good news is that the blood of the Lamb, shed for the sins of the world, cleanses those who faithfully follow the Shepherd.

In other words, today’s reading from The Apocalypse is filled with joy. It proclaims that God will not only overcome evil, He will—at the end of time as we know it—bring together all of those who love Him. The great multitude witnessed by John consists of those who have been saved through suffering, just as Savior, the slain Lamb (Rev. 5:6), brought salvation through suffering and death. “The Church will enter the glory of the kingdom,” explains the Catechism, “only through this final Passover, when she will follow her Lord in his death and Resurrection” (CCC 677).

Those in the great multitude, from every nation, race, people, and tongue, are the Church. They make up the New Israel, which has gone through a New Exodus. While the first Exodus involved the people of Israel being saved from the tyranny of Egyptian slavery, this final Exodus consists of the people of the new covenant being saved eternally from the domination of sin and death. As Jesus states, in the reading from today’s Gospel, “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish” (Jn. 10:28). The salvation of a multitude too large to be counted is a fulfillment of the great covenant made with Abraham: “I will make of you a great nation … All the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you” (Gen. 12:2, 3; cf. Gal. 3:7, 29).

Overcoming death and establishing eternal life is a constant theme in The Apocalypse. This can be seen in the imagery throughout the book, which is bursting with allusions to the Old Testament, especially the Pentateuch and the Prophets. The idea of being made “white” through perseverance in faith is drawn from Daniel, a book used often by John: “Many shall purify themselves, and makes themselves white, and be refined” (Dan. 12:10). White robes symbolize holiness and endurance. Priests in the time of Christ were examined for purity; if they passed, they were dressed in white robes, as was the High Priest. In the new covenant, those who have been baptized into Christ, the High Priest, and who endure to the end will be saved through the sacrifice of the Lamb on the Cross.

The palm branches allude to the feast of Tabernacles (cf., Lev. 24:39-40), which celebrated the harvest of crops and commemorated God’s divine protection during the Exodus. Palm branches were also used as symbols of victory (1 Macc. 13:51; 2 Macc. 10:7). In The Apocalypse they stand for God’s victory over evil, His protection of the Church throughout the time of tribulation, and the restoration of right relationship with God, as evidenced by the songs of praise before the heavenly throne.

John’s vision is also filled with a liturgical and sacramental perspective. The great multitude worship God in His temple, which ultimately is the Person of Christ (cf., Jn 2:19-22). Being washed and made white suggests the bath of Baptism, and the lack of hunger or thirst is Eucharistic in its promise of complete joy in the presence of the Lamb.

Thus, in the end—The End!—the apocalyptic truths of the Book of Revelation don’t involve helicopters and top secret technology, but the salvation of God’s flock, His people, through the death and Resurrection of the Lamb.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the March 30, 2007, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The risen Christ to the restored Peter: "Feed my sheep!"

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, April 14, 2013, Third Sunday of Easter | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Acts 5:27-32, 40b-41
• Ps 30:2, 4, 5-6, 11-12, 13
• Rev 5:11-14
• Jn 21:1-19

Years ago, not long after entering the Church, I called into a local radio program hosted by two Fundamentalist Protestants. They had been discussing Catholicism and making some claims that were more than a bit dubious in nature. In the course of our conversation (which was fairly civil, thankfully), the topic arose of a great apostasy in the early Church. Long story made short, they insisted the Church had “apostatized” within years—perhaps just months!—of Christ’s Resurrection and Ascension.

One reason for this belief (which I knew well from my Fundamentalist upbringing) was the assumption that the first Christians soon began embracing structures and doctrines that were “Romanish” in nature. Rather than deal with the historical record, these two sincere, intelligent men deemed it better to skip ahead to the present-day, seeking to restore the Church they thought Jesus really meant to establish. They made it clear they would not follow a pope.

That incident came to mind as I considered today’s readings. The readings during Easter—which include passages from Acts of the Apostles in place of the Old Testament readings—make numerous connections between the authority, mission, and power of the Risen Lord and the position and actions of the Apostles. There is a clear and consistent connection between the person of Jesus Christ and the people who took up “the Way” (Acts 9:22) and who were eventually called “Christians” (Acts 11:26). And this connection included structure and authority.

“Well, of course,” you might say, “everyone knows that.” But this basic and fundamental fact is routinely denied, especially by those who try to uproot Jesus from his historical moorings and detach him from the establishment of Church structure and use of ecclesial authority. A common line of attack is to pit Jesus against “organized religion,” which is almost always code for the Catholic Church and her Magisterium.

Today’s readings depict something different, however, from this rather anarchic interpretation. The Gospel reading is especially instructive. It describes a key encounter between the risen Christ and the apostles, focusing on the head apostle, Peter. Days earlier, the rash fisherman had denied Jesus three times while huddled in the cold near a charcoal fire (Jn. 18:18-27). Now he came from his boat to a charcoal fire started by his Master, who invited he and his companions to eat.

The Good Shepherd then asked Peter a single question three times: “Do you love me?”

In responding to Peter’s affirmative replies, Jesus did not say, “Be good” or “Hang in there!” Rather, he directed him to feed and tend his sheep. This is a reiteration and affirmation of the authority Jesus gave to Peter in granting him the keys of the Kingdom (Matt. 16:16-20). It builds upon an important and lengthy discourse by Jesus about his identity as the Good Shepherd (Jn. 10). We are familiar with the image of the humble, loving shepherd, but we sometimes overlook how this image is as much about royal authority and messianic identity as it is about pastoral care.

Jesus’ discourse was based in part on a prophecy given through Ezekiel: “And I will set up over them one shepherd, my servant David, and he shall feed them: he shall feed them and be their shepherd” (Ezek. 34:23). Jesus is the Davidic King, and he established a Kingdom that exceeds the wildest dreams of any earthly king. “My servant David shall be king over them,” God told Ezekiel, “and they shall all have one shepherd” (Ezek. 37:24).

But if Jesus is the one shepherd, why appoint Peter to also be a shepherd? Because the Vicar of Christ, the apostles, and the bishops are “partakers of His consecration and His mission” (Lumen Gentium, 28). They have a specific place in the Body of Christ, a vocation to pastor and feed the one flock of the one true God. And so Jesus, after asking his three questions of Peter, simply said: “Follow me.” Why? So we can find, receive, and follow him.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the April 18, 2010, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The Mystery of the Annunciation is the Mystery of Grace

The Mystery of the Annunciation is the Mystery of Grace | Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger | Ignatius Insight

The mystery of the annunciation to Mary is not just a mystery of silence.It is above and beyond all that a mystery of grace.

We feel compelled to ask ourselves: Why did Christ really want to be born of a virgin? It was certainly possible for him to have been born of a normal marriage. That would not have affected his divine Sonship, which was not dependent on his virgin birth and could equally well have been combined with another kind of birth. There is no question here of a downgrading of marriage or of the marriage relationship; nor is it a question of better safeguarding the divine Sonship. Why then?

We find the answer when we open the Old Testament and see that the mystery of Mary is prepared for at every important stage in salvation history. It begins with Sarah, the mother of Isaac, who had been barren, but when she was well on in years and had lost the power of giving life, became, by the power of God, the mother of Isaac and so of the chosen people.

The process continues with Anna, the mother of Samuel, who was likewise barren, but eventually gave birth; with the mother of Samson, or again with Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptizer. The meaning of all these events is the same: that salvation comes, not from human beings and their powers, but solely from God—from an act of his grace.

(From Dogma und Verkundigung, pp. 375ff; quoted in Co-Workers of the Truth: Meditations for Every Day of the Year [Ignatius Press, 1992], pp. 99-100.)









The annunciation to Mary happens to a woman, in an insignificant town in half-pagan Galilee, known neither to Josephus nor the Talmud. The entire scene was "unusual for Jewish sensibilities. God reveals himself, where and to whom he wishes." Thus begins a new way, at whose center stands no longer the temple, but the simplicity of Jesus Christ. He is now the true temple, the tent of meeting.

The salutation to Mary (Lk 1:28-32) is modeled closely on Zephaniah 3: 14-17: Mary is the daughter Zion addressed there, summoned to " rejoice", in formed that the Lord is coming to her. Her fear is removed, since the Lord is in her midst to save her. Laurentin makes the very beautiful remark on this text: "... As so often, the word of God proves to be a mustard seed.... One understands why Mary was so frightened by this message (Lk 1:29). Her fear comes not from lack of understanding nor from that small-hearted anxiety to which some would like to reduce it. It comes from the trepidation of that encounter with God, that immeasurable joy which can make the most hardened natures quake."

In the address of the angel, the underlying motif the Lucan portrait of Mary surfaces: she is in person the true Zion, toward whom hopes have yearned throughout all the devastations of history. She is the true Israel in whom Old and New Covenant, Israel and Church, are indivisibly one. She is the "people of God" bearing fruit through God's gracious power. ...

Transcending all problems, Marian devotion is the rapture of joy over the true, indestructible Israel; it is a blissful entering into the joy of the Magnificat and thereby it is the praise of him to whom the daughter Zion owes her whole self and whom she bears, the true, incorruptible, indestructible Ark of the Covenant.

(From Daughter Zion: Meditations on the Church's Marian Belief [Ignatius Press, 1983], pp. 42-43, 82.)

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Related IgnatiusInsight.com Articles and Excerpts:

• Mary in Byzantine Doctrine and Devotion | Brother John M. Samaha, S.M.
• Fairest Daughter of the Father: On the Solemnity of the Assumption | Rev. Charles M. Mangan
• The Blessed Virgin in the History of Christianity | John A. Hardon, S.J.
• "Hail, Full of Grace": Mary, the Mother of Believers | Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger
• Mary in Feminist Theology: Mother of God or Domesticated Goddess? | Fr. Manfred Hauke
• Excerpts from The Rosary: Chain of Hope | Fr. Benedict Groeschel, C.F.R.
• The Past Her Prelude: Marian Imagery in the Old Testament | Sandra Miesel
• Immaculate Mary, Matchless in Grace | John Saward
• The Medieval Mary | The Introduction to Mary in the Middle Ages | by Luigi Gambero
• Misgivings About Mary | Dr. James Hitchcock
• Born of the Virgin Mary | Paul Claudel
• Assumed Into Mother's Arms | Carl E. Olson
• The Disciple Contemplates the Mother | Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis

Preparation, Proclamation, Perseverance, and Purpose

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for April 7, 2013 (Sunday of Divine Mercy) | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Acts 5:12-16
• Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
• Rev 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19
• Jn 20:19-31

It is fitting that on this second Sunday of Easter, decreed in 2000 by Pope John Paul II to be Divine Mercy Sunday, that the readings provide a biblical blueprint of how divine mercy and grace would spread in the months and years immediately following the Resurrection.

During the Easter season, leading up to the great Feast of Pentecost, readings from the Acts of the Apostles take the place of Old Testament readings. In this way the connection between “all that Jesus did and taught” (Acts 1:1) and all that the apostles did and taught can be clearly seen and reflected upon. The Evangelist Luke portrayed Jesus as The Prophet who would do great signs and wonders (the greatest being His death and resurrection) and in the Acts of the Apostles he depicted the early Christians—especially the apostles Peter and Paul—as doing “many signs and wonders among the people” (Acts 5:12).

The blueprint of mercy can be summed up in four words: preparation, proclamation, perseverance, and purpose.

The preparation began during the ministry of Jesus, as He spent countless hours, days, and months with His disciples, teaching them by both word and example. Christ’s Passion and the Resurrection took that preparation to a place the disciples could barely begin to fathom prior to those dramatic events. Today’s Gospel reading highlights, in the well-known story of doubting Thomas, that the process of preparation was not a quick or easy one. As the disciples hid behind closed doors, they were often filled with fear and confusion. But the appearance of the Risen Christ in their midst was a source of peace and joy. And so they received their instructions: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Then, later, in response to Thomas’s famous cry—“My Lord and my God!”—Jesus further prepared the disciples for their divine mission by pointing them toward the many souls in need of the Gospel: “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.”

The proclamation of that Gospel is seen all through Acts, including in today’s reading. The signs and wonders performed by Christ were soon being performed by the leaders of His Body, the Church, and that Body grew quickly. Luke emphasized the “signs and wonders” throughout his Gospel to present Jesus as the New Moses. Those marks of prophetic activity are mentioned many times in Acts, notably in Peter’s sermon on Pentecost and his recitation of the prophet Joel (2:17-22), and in today’s reading, which describes the proclamation of God’s word by the apostles (cf., 4:29-30), especially the head apostle, Peter.

In addition to Acts, the readings during Easter include selections from the final book of the Bible, the Revelation of Jesus Christ. One reason is to show the perseverance of the early Christians—including the author, John—in the face of persecution. John the Revelator referred to both when he wrote of the “endurance we have in Jesus”; he explained that he had been exiled to the island of Patmos (about 37 miles southwest of modern Turkey) “because I proclaimed God’s word and gave testimony to Jesus.” While celebrating the Lord’s Day—likely in the course of the Liturgy—John saw the risen and victorious Christ standing among the lamp stands, representing the Church. The Son of Man, “the first and the last,” assures John that the perseverance of the saints is not in vain, but will be rewarded by eternal life: “Once I was dead, but now I am alive forever and ever.”

We return to today’s Gospel to find a perfect summation of the purpose of these many actions of preparation, proclamation, and perseverance. John explained that much more could have been written about Jesus in his Gospel, but that “these are written that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through this belief you may have life in his name.” By God’s mercy and grace, may we believe more deeply and experience more fully the life of the Risen Lord!

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the April 15, 2007, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

20% off select books and films in celebration of Divine Mercy Sunday

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Offer ends April 9th, 2013 at 12:00 midnight EST. These prices are available online only through Ignatius.com

"Mercy is the central nucleus of the Gospel message; it is the very name of God, the Face with which he revealed himself in the Old Covenant and fully in Jesus Christ, the incarnation of creative and redemptive Love” (Pope emeritus Benedict XVI).

As we prepare to celebrate the beautiful feast of Divine Mercy let us draw closer to the fountain of God’s mercy through prayer and meditation. Reflect on the inconceivable gift of His mercy while reading our Lord’s words to Saint Faustina in her Diary or while listening to our Chaplet of Divine Mercy CD. Renew your trust in Jesus and his Divine Mercy with our do-it-yourself retreat, Consoling the Heart of Jesus. Introduce your children to the story of Saint Faustina and the “refuge of the Feast of Mercy” (Diary 699) by watching Saint Faustina: My Catholic Family together or by teaching them how to pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet with the help of The Divine Mercy Chaplet for Kids. Finally, after immersing yourself in vast depths of the ocean of Divine Mercy, “go forth and be witnesses of God's mercy, a source of hope for every person and for the whole world" (Pope emeritus Benedict XVI).

The Logic of the Resurrection

The Logic of the Resurrection | Fr. James V. Schall, SJ | Catholic World Report

The truth of the resurrection of the body is bound up with the question of justice.

The resurrection of the body is not primarily a question of logic. It is a question of fact, of witness. We do not begin from a philosophical theory to deduce the resurrection of the body. Rather we start from the fact of the resurrection of Christ. We ask whether it makes sense, whether it is “reasonable” in some basic manner. In this sense, philosophy follows fact, provided we can accept the facts of what is. 

In his book, Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week, Benedict XVI examined all the evidence that would argue that the resurrection as a fact did not happen. He concluded we have no evidence showing that the testimony and witness of the disciples present at the events were fabricated, false, or naïve. We conclude that Jesus was who He said He was. Included in this understanding of who He was is His resurrection. But the resurrection involves the fact that Christ as such was one of the Persons of the Trinity, the Word, who became man. It was not the Father or the Spirit who became man. The resurrection thus refers to Christ insofar as He was true man, yet also God.

We learn in the Old Testament that God never intended for us to die. But we also learn that death was a consequence of a prior act of man. Death followed the exercise of freedom. Man was not forced to be what he was intended to be. We might then expect that the overcoming of death would also be the consequence of freedom. The question is whether the exercise of human freedom, our self-redemption, was sufficient to accomplish this purpose. The whole account of Christ’s passion revolves about this issue.

Behind this question of freedom, however, is the fact that by nature we human beings, body and soul, are not free from death. We are the mortals. We die and we know that we die. Yet, something about us seems “immortal.” We call our souls precisely immortal, a spiritual power. But this immortality as such does not include our bodies, the whole persons that we are. 

Continue reading on the CWR site.

"They Killed Him": Deicide and Holy Saturday

"They Killed Him": Deicide and Holy Saturday | Dr. Leroy Huizenga | Catholic World Report

The Christ is dead; the corpse of the Son of God lies on a cold slab in a suffocating, lightless tomb. 

Holy Saturday is a difficult day to keep holy. My parish marks it with morning prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours, but most churches don’t do anything, which is certainly appropriate; Jesus Christ is liturgically dead. And so I’ve taken to my own observances. Last year after the Good Friday communion liturgy, my wife and I watched The Passion of the Christ, and on Holy Saturday we kept things low-key while listening to Bach’s Matthäus-Passion and Johannes-Passion as well as Mozart’s and Verdi’s Requiems. 

But life goes on. Our young kids (almost 5 and 3) can’t help but play, sometimes cooperating, sometimes protesting in shrill tones some grave injustice the other has perpetrated by encroaching on (say) a Thomas the Tank Engine track layout. My mother will host Easter dinner, and so we will prepare some food for that. And for many people, even those who will be in Easter Sunday services tomorrow, Holy Saturday is another Saturday filled with shopping, yardwork, fishing, and the like.

Holy Saturday started to hit me differently a few years ago. I suspect it had to do with three major events occurring within a period of several months. First, I turned 35, which meant my life was half over, as I’d count myself blessed to make it to seventy. I began to feel life was now downhill. Second, our son Hans was born, and as those of you who are parents know, having children entails epistemological paradigm shifts: we see the world differently. Third, just a few weeks after Hans’ birth, I buried my father. And so I came to the existential realization that life was short and moving ever faster and that we play for keeps.

Sensitive now to the fragility of human life and the grave responsibilities laid upon us by God and Nature and newly alive to the joys and terrors of life in this beautiful and horrible world as a member of a glorious and murderous race, Holy Saturday punched me in the gut.

They killed him. They really did.

Many Christians in modernity, I think, have a conception of the crucifixion restricted to a legal version of penal substitutionary atonement: Our problem is guilt, for which God must punish us, but loving us and desiring to forgive us, God punishes Christ in our place.

Continue reading on the CWR blog.

The Cross, For Us

The Cross, For Us | Hans Urs von Balthasar

Whoever removes the Cross from the center of Christianity no longer stands in continuity with the apostolic faith

The following is from A Short Primer for Unsettled Laymen (Ignatius Press, 1985).

Without a doubt, at the center of the New Testament there stands the Cross, which receives its interpretation from the Resurrection.

The Passion narratives are the first pieces of the Gospels that were composed as a unity. In his preaching at Corinth, Paul initially wants to know  nothing but the Cross, which "destroys the wisdom of the wise and wrecks the understanding of those who understand", which "is a scandal to the Jews and foolishness to the gentiles". But "the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men" (1 Cor 1:19, 23, 25).

Whoever removes the Cross and its interpretation by the New Testament from the center, in order to replace it, for example, with the social commitment of Jesus to the oppressed as a new center, no longer stands in continuity with the apostolic faith. He does not see that God's commitment to the world is most absolute precisely at this point across a chasm.

It is certainly not surprising that the disciples were able to understand the meaning of the Cross only slowly, even after the Resurrection. The Lord himself gives a first catechetical instruction to the disciples at Emmaus by showing that this incomprehensible event is the fulfillment of what had been foretold and that the open question marks of the Old Testament find their solution only here (Lk 24:27).

Which riddles? Those of the Covenant between God and men in which the latter must necessarily fail again and again: who can be a match for God as a partner? Those of the many cultic sacrifices that in the end are still external to man while he himself cannot offer himself as a sacrifice. Those of the inscrutable meaning of suffering which can fall even, and especially, on the innocent, so that every proof that God rewards the good becomes void. Only at the outer periphery, as something that so far is completely sealed, appear the outlines of a figure in which the riddles might be solved.

This figure would be at once the completely kept and fulfilled Covenant, even far beyond Israel (Is 49:5-6), and the personified sacrifice in which at the same time the riddle of suffering, of being despised and rejected, becomes a light; for it happens as the vicarious suffering of the just for "the many" (Is 52:13-53:12). Nobody had understood the prophecy then, but in the light of the Cross and Resurrection of Jesus it became the most important key to the meaning of the apparently meaningless.

Did not Jesus himself use this key at the Last Supper in anticipation? "For you", "for the many", his Body is given up and his Blood is poured out. He himself, without a doubt, foreknew that his will to help these" people toward God who are so distant from God would at some point be taken terribly seriously, that he would suffer in their place through this distance from God, indeed this utmost darkness of God, in order to take it from them and to give them an inner share in his closeness to God. "I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how I am constrained until it is accomplished!" (Lk 12:50).

It stands as a dark cloud at the horizon of his active life; everything he does then-healing the sick, proclaiming the kingdom of God, driving out evil spirits by his good Spirit, forgiving sins-all of these partial engagements happen in the approach toward the one unconditional engagement.