Quo Vadis?

In light of the Boston bombing the issue of religion and violence once again rears its ugly head. Undoubtedly some people will try to paint devout Christians with the same broad brush exemplified by the religious fervor of the bomber brothers.   To the secularist religion, all religion, is the cause of violence, including Christianity.  The secularist makes no distinction between different belief systems. To them, it’s all the same. Religion is bad, and so if you want to get rid of violence, you have to get rid of religion.  Of course this is nonsense and childishly simplistic. First of all it’s totally unrealistic.  You can’t eliminate religion or the religious impulse from the heart of man.  To do that you’d have to eliminate man. Religion, in the broadest sense, has to do with a person’s deepest convictions and beliefs that guide his or her life whether or not they ‘go to church’.  People are motivated by beliefs, not institutions. Even non-religious people believe in something.

The distinction and choice to be made is not between religion or non-religion, but between true religion and false religion, between humane beliefs and inhumane beliefs.   Any belief system, whether religious or atheististic, spiritual or secular, that denies the inherent dignity of the human person, regards  people as parasites, trash and less than human, is a false and wicked belief system.  Any belief system that justifies killing innocent people, including small children, and even children still in the womb, is an evil belief system.

Are Christians inherently violent? They can be. They can be because they’re human and all human beings can be prone to violence. As the apostle James said, “What causes war and what causes fighting among you? Is it not your passions that are at war in your members?”  Christianity knows all about the dark demons that lurk in the human heart. The question is, what does Christianity teach about violence? What did Christ teach? How are we supposed to behave?  The Gospel is clear: “Do unto other as you would have them do unto you.” “Turn the other cheek.”  ”Love one another as I have loved you.” “Be merciful even as your heavenly Father is merciful” “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” “Blessed are the peacemakers” “Love your enemies.”  ”To good to those who persecute you.”

Any belief system that conveys the idea that violence against an innocent human being  is not only justified, but virtuous, is an evil belief system. The Christian soldier or cop who kills an aggressor or criminal in the line of duty does not, or should not, consider it virtuous. Protecting others and defending public safety while risking one’s own life is certainly virtuous, even heroic.  But the taken of another life is never in an of itself a virtuous act. It is never something to be happy about or proud of.

All religions are NOT the same. Christianity is the antithesis of jihad. It is the true religion of peace.

Easter is upon us and spring is …… springing!  And the fish will be biting. It’s hard to beat Colorado in the spring ….. or in the summer …….. or in the fall ….. or, okay, even in the winter!  The only thing Colorado is missing is the ocean. Meanwhile, we are about to enter the holiest time of the year when we commemorate the institution of the Eucharist and priesthood on Thursday night, relive the Lord’s passion on Friday and rise again renewed on Easter Sunday.  Christ is the pattern of life. Suffering. Death. Resurrection. These are the hallmarks of the Christian life. Jesus himself recapitulates or relives each human life and all of human history and Holy Week brings that out.  Ben Akers, director of the Biblical School here at the Archdiocese of Denver, gave a wonderful talk recently showing how this week ‘repeats’ or echoes the seven days of creation in Genesis 1.

A unique characteristic of Hebrew poetry is call “parallelism”. An idea is expressed one way and then repeated by using similar imagery. The psalms are famous for this.  For example “Unless the Lord build the house, those who build it labor in vain ……… Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain.” (Psalm 127:1).   Holy Week thus ‘parallels’ the seven days of creation; the passion of Christ re-enacts, as it were, Genesis 1. Here’s just a couple of examples. Palm Sunday = day 1: “Let there be light” ….. Jesus rides into Jerusalem revealing himself as the Messiah. Up to this point his identity was hidden and was meant to kept secret. Holy Thursday: Jesus enters willingly into his passion in the Garden of Gethsemane in order to ‘undo’ disobedience of Adam in the Garden of Eden.  Day 6 (Good Friday) “God created man in his image” …… Pilate says of Jesus: “Behold the man!” (John 19:5).   Day 7: (Holy Saturday) “And God rested from all his work” ……… Jesus “rested” from his work of redemption as he lay in the tomb. Day 8 – Easter Sunday and first day of the New Creation. Where before angels blocked man’s entrance into Paradise (Gen. 3:24) now angels show the way: “See the place where they laid him” (Matthew 28:6).  ”The Lord God planted a garden in Eden” (Gen. 2:8) indicating that God is a gardener.  Mary Magdalene meets Jesus and mistakes him for the gardener (John 20:15).

There are many other parallels between the creation narrative in Genesis and the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. Ben did a masterful job explaining them all. Suffice it to say that Easter celebrates not only Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, but also the New Creation which he inaugurated. Springtime in the Rockies is a beautiful time of year, to be sure. But the natural beauty of creation, like all beauty, is a sign pointing beyond itself to the True – to Reality at its deepest level.  It is this Realty that Jesus revealed in his passion, death and resurrection. It is the pattern of life.

Habemus Papam!  I was surprised by how quickly the new Pope was elected. Only 5 ballots! I thought it’d take at least twice that many. The quickness of Pope Francis’ election reflects the strong unity among the 115 cardinal electors, which is a very good thing for the Church. I confess I was surprised by the choice, but the more I think about it the more it becomes clear that Cardinal Bergoglio is exactly the right man for this time in history.

Taking the name ‘Francis’ is very significant, and unprecedented. The name that a pope chooses signals his vision for his papacy.  Pope Paul VI, for example, who closed the Second Vatican Council, chose the name “Paul” after the great evangelist and missionary because the Pope saw Vatican II as an essentially evangelistic council. John Paul I & II took their names from the Pope who opened the Council and the one that closed it, thus indicating their intention to implement its teachings. Benedict chose that name with respect to the man who founded western monasticism and organized his communities around work, study and prayer. A key commitment for those who followed Benedict was stability, which helped cushion the collapse of the Roman Empire and provided stability through centuries of instability until a coherent Christian civilization could emerge, paving the way for Europe.

Francis, the great 13th century saint, is normally associated with nature. But that sentimental reduction obscures his really great contribution. Francis was the son of a wealthy cloth merchant. But touched by the example of Jesus Francis dedicated himself to imitating Christ. What would it be like to live exactly the way Jesus and his apostles lived? many of us might wonder. Francis didn’t just imagine it; he did it. And he did it at a time when the Church and society needed that kind of witness. Francis wasn’t a great theologian. He wasn’t even a priest.  He was a simple beggar, seeking to follow Christ as closely as he could and it was through his simple imitation of Christ that he righted a Church that was in grave danger due to internal corruption, ignorance and indifference.

Pope Francis is telling us something by the choice of his name. He’s showing us the way we must go if we’re to make the gospel credible in an otherwise deeply skeptical and cynical world. “We can walk as much as we want, we can build many things, but if we do not profess Jesus Christ, things go wrong.  We may become a charitable NGO, but not the Church the Bride of the Lord.”

With all the cardinal electors now in Rome and the conclave set to start in a few days, speculation, or at least curiosity about the next Pope, intensifies.  New Advent has a handy reference guide to all 115 cardinals, listing them in order of ‘papabile’. It’ll be interesting to see how accurate their assessment is (was), which we’ll probably know I’m guessing by St. Patrick’s Day.

Speculation about the next Pope includes even a couple of Americans. Cardinal Dolan has been mentioned as papabile, but I seriously doubt he’ll be elected. Although he’s the archbishop of one of the biggest and most important sees in America, if not the world, he doesn’t have the academic credentials, language skills or international experience that other notable cardinals do. His strong suit is his infectious joy and the courage to tackle hard issues head on. Cardinal Burke has also been mentioned. Of all the Americans I think he has the best chance. He works at the Vatican as head of the Signatura, the office that deals with canon law. He knows the curia what sort of reforms it needs. He’s fluent in Italian, French, Latin and, of course, English, which is not irrelevant. After all, English is the universal language. Michael Voris at http://www.churchmilitant.com is a strong advocate for Cardinal Burke, with good reason.

Two Italians that stand out are Cardinal Bertone, Vatican secretary of state and Cardinal Scola, archbishop of Milan. Scola tops the list at New Advent.  I think the Italians would love to have one of their own sitting in Peter’s chair. Both are brilliant theologians and would be staunch defenders of the faith.

Looking to the southern hemisphere, two prominent candidates stand out: Cardinal Tagle of the Philippines and Cardinal Turkson of Ghana. These men would be ideal in terms of evangelization. They both come from parts of the world where the Church is thriving. They exude pure joy and would be able to propose the Gospel anew to those parts of the world, like Europe and North America, which have grown tired of Christianity. The election of either of these two men would be tremendous.  At age 54, many people think Cardinal Tagel is too young. But he may be just what the Church needs right now, given the demands of the papacy. Cardinal Turkson is the ‘ideal’ age for a Pope – 64.  The election of either of these men would be very exciting.

The tailors at the Vatican have made several different cassocks of different sizes for the new Pope. No matter who’s elected, one of them will fit. In a similar way, God will ‘fit’ the man whose chosen with the requisite skills to serve as Pope,  No man can possibly fulfill all the requirements needed for the modern papacy. “We hold this treasure in earthen vessels” (2 Cor. 4:7). God does not call the qualified; he qualifies those he calls.  The greatest saints have been very imperfect people, but by the grace of God they advanced the kingdom of heaven on earth in just the way that was needed for their times.  In the final analysis, as Catholics we believe that regardless of who is chosen, God will equip him with what’s necessary to do the job. It is, after all, Christ’s Church. With that knowledge we can be confident in the future, and that we’ll love the new Pope just as we loved John Paul II and Benedict XVI.

I should not be surprised if those those two words seem odd together. Especially for Catholics. We’re comfortable with “spirituality” but not so much with “evangelization.”  Spirituality is interior and personal. Evangelization is so, well, so evangelical!  Being “spiritual” is socially acceptable, as long as you keep it to yourself. To be evangelistic is the exact opposite. I like to think of myself as “spiritual” because it let’s me believe that I’m not a crass materialist, driven by money and prestige. It let’s me think I’m above all that. At the same time, it’s vague enough to let me off the moral hook: no commitments to worry about, no commandments to keep, no church to attend, no having to pray, fast or give alms. And best of all, no sin and no repentance; I can be happy with myself just the way I am.  Most of the people I’ve met that consider themselves ‘spiritual’ (but not religious) are quite well-off financially. I suppose that’s why Jesus said it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Being ‘spiritual’ (but not religious) let’s them feel good about themselves and relieves them of some of the guilt they feel for being rich.

To be ‘spiritual but not religious’ is a comfortably private affair. I don’t have to worry about other people. I don’t even have to worry about God. To be religious is exactly the opposite: it’s about being connected to God and other people in the deepest way possible; often whether I like it or not. It means being connected with people I wouldn’t normally associate with or even like. But we’re social beings; we’re meant to be connected. Our natural inclination is to be self-centered. To be religious is to be other-centered. A spirituality of evangelization is essentially about the other.  What drives a spirituality of evangelization is essentially love. The most important thing in the world is the fate of a soul.  And because the love of neighbor, and even of our enemies is a requirement of my religion, it’s incumbent upon me to do everything I can to help someone find God and enter the fullness of life and faith in the holy Catholic Church.

Well, we survived the apocalypse supposedly predicted by the Mayans. But I don’t think we’re out the woods.  The next cataclysm to strike, so we’re told, is the infamous ‘fiscal cliff.’  I’m guessing that whatever happens it won’t be the monumental crash that driving off a cliff suggests. Instead, I suspect it’ll be long, slow, painful grind as we descend into financial ruin. The poor of course will be hurt the most, despite Obama’s platitudes. I believe Dinesh D’Souza is right: the impoverishment of America is Obama’s goal. Everything is going according to plan.  According to D’Souza, Obama sees America as the heir to the British empire whose legacy is nothing but oppression and violence.  In order for the rest of the world to be safe and prosper, according to this view, America must be downsized economically and militarily. Of course, Obama’s opponents believe that weakening America is not only bad for Americans but bad for the rest of the world.  They believe that a weakened America will only embolden the bad guys. We’ve already gotten a foretaste of that in Libya with the Bengazi disaster, and in Egypt with success of the Muslim Brotherhood.

Things like the Mayan apocalypse and other such bizarre scenarios only serve to distract us the real dangers that lie ahead. As the economy gets weaker and the federal government gets bigger and more powerful, life get worse for everyone, especially the poor. Well, worse for everyone except those who work for the government, for now we learn that despite a trillion dollar deficit, federal employees and Congress will receive a nice little pay raise, thank you very much.  The average salary for a federal employee is $81, 258, compared to $50,462 for a private sector worker.  Granted, a higher proportion of  federal workers are college educated than those in the private sector, but the raw numbers do rub one the wrong way, especially in light of the deficit and huge debt. A pay raise for federal workers just rubs salt in the wound.

It’ll be interesting to see what’ll happen in 2013.  I’m not very optimistic, but then I’m not employed by the federal government.

On October 14 Austrian sky diver Felix Baumgartner broke the world’s record for free fall, jumping from a capsule attached to a helium balloon nearly 25 miles (128,100 feet) above the earth. Baumgartner not only broke the world’s record for the highest jump, he also broke the record for the fastest speed ever attained by a human in free fall – 834 miles per hour!

Baumgartner had done many dangerous jumps before: from cliffs, bridges, buildings and extreme altitudes. But none of them terrified him as much as his jump from the edge of space. The thing that frightened him the most was the sheer altitude. When he finally landed, the first thing he said was how good it was to be home again.

Most people have no interest in sky diving – from any height. Most of us prefer solid ground where we feel safe and secure. Heights make most people nervous, which helps explain, I think, why Mass often comes across as banal. Reaching for the stars sounds good in theory, but when it comes down to it we’d much rather keep our feet on the ground, liturgically speaking. That’s one reason why so-called ‘mega-churches’ are so popular – they look and feel just like a movie theater or a mall.

For the last 40 years or so, the horizontal dimension of worship in almost every Catholic parish has prevailed, while the vertical dimension has nearly disappeared. The accent has been on the people rather than God.  The reason for accentuating the horizontal dimension was a noble one to be sure. It was meant to foster a greater sense of community, something many parishes lack.  But here’s the thing:  when the transcendent element is missing, there’s nothing to build a community on.  Strengthen the transcendent and you strengthen the community. The Year of Faith is meant, in part, to correct this imbalance by accentuating the centrality of God and the transcendent dimension of life.

The vertical axis of worship is primary and should take precedence over the horizontal dimension.  After all, the vertical beam of the cross supports the horizontal beam, not the other way around. If faith is to be elevated and the unity of the Church strengthened, we need to restore a much greater sense of the transcendent at Mass. And quickest way to do that, I believe, is through music, specifically through Gregorian chant.

The implementation of the new Roman missal, which has been in use now for a year, has greatly helped restore a sense of the sacred. Liturgical language is different from the language of the marketplace. The same is true for music which is, after all, a form of language too. If the musical language of the Mass is indistinguishable from the musical language in the marketplace, there’s little chance that it will lift us up out of ourselves and the quotidian realities of ordinary life. We live and die on earth, but we’re made for heaven. We’re destined to live among the stars. Whether it’s the “ordinary” or the “extraordinary” form of the Mass, every Mass should be out of this world.  The Mass is the only place on earth where we get a foretaste of heaven.

The problem with contemporary society is that we’ve lost a sense of the transcendent. Life in the modern world has become increasingly two-dimensional, flat, fat, morbid and mundane.  The only thing that excites people nowadays is sex and technology. Come to think of it, there’s not much difference between the two, except that technology really is exciting while sex has become monotonous and medicinal. Nothing’s left to the imagination. There’s hardly any magic or mystery left anymore. Technology at least has that going for it.  We may unfortunately happen to live in a ‘flat earth society’ but that doesn’t mean we have to join the club.

We live in the world but we belong to Christ and His Church. “Since you have been raised with Christ, seek what is above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God” (Colossians 3:1). As Curtis Martin says “we’re not meant for comfort; we’re meant for greatness.”  We’re ‘high altitude’ people.  As Coloradans, we should know that.

Holy Mother Church has said repeatedly that Gregorian chant is the music especially suited to the Mass and should be given pride of place.  But that’s rarely the case. Most parishes shun chant. Why? Because it’s more difficult to sing? Hardly. Chant is much easier to sing than many contemporary songs that are standard fare. And because of its simplicity, chant facilitates greater participation, which was one of the main goals of Vatican II.  So why is chant shunned?  Here’s my theory: It’s strange. It’s lofty. It’s from the edge of space; another world. People feel uncomfortable with chant for much the same reason they’re nervous about looking over a 1000 foot cliff or jumping out of an airplane or even just getting up on a ladder.

Chant takes us out of the ordinary world. Chant is obviously about God; obviously sacred; obviously transcendent.  And that can be scary. As the letter to the Hebrews says, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (10:31).  Staying at lower elevations and keeping our feet on the ground is obviously more comfortable. But we’re not meant for comfort; we’re meant for greatness.  Liturgy is meant to lift us up into the rarefied atmosphere of heavenly things and not be afraid.

Prayer is an essential part of the Christian life, but for many it’s a struggle. Part of us is drawn to God and wants to pray, but another part of us is drawn in other directions. Surfing the web, fiddling with your I-phone or watching T.V. are easy distractions. The tug-o-war  between the desires of the flesh and the spirit can be discouraging. After all, prayer should come easily to a devout Christian. Right? If it doesn’t, there must something wrong with me. Maybe my faith just isn’t very strong.  The desire to pray is itself a prayer – an action of the Holy Spirit stirring one’s heart. The natural human inclination is to hide from God. But God, the ground of our being, is closer to me than I am to myself.  You can’t hide from God. You can try to drown him out with various diversions, but in the end, when everything falls silent, that “still, small voice” begins to be heard.

Silence is the foundation of prayer. As Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, “The fruit of Silence is prayer. The fruit of Prayer is faith. The fruit of Faith is love. The fruit of Love is service. The fruit of Service is peace.” It all starts with silence. But most of us live in terribly noisy environments, much of it our own making.  It’s imperative, therefore, that we carve out a part of the day for silence. The first ten or fifteen minutes are the hardest. That’s when all the noisy, little monkeys in my head are the most rambunctious.  My thoughts race from branch to branch clamoring for my attention. But if I sit still and don’t make any noise, they eventually settle down. All that takes time, ten minutes at least. More proficient pray-ers, I’m sure, can achieve tranquility of mind much faster than that.  It takes longer for others.  That’s where meditation comes in.

Christian meditation is not what most people think it is. When many people think of meditation they usually think about Buddhist meditation whose aim is nirvana – the liberation from dukka: the state of suffering arising from desire and delusion.  At the risk of oversimplifying, the goal in Buddhist meditation is to empty the mind and transcend the self.  Christian meditation, on the other hand, seeks to focus the mind on “the one thing necessary” – Christ (Luke 10:42).  And the goal is not so much to transcend the self, but to unite the self (soul) with God. The self (soul) doesn’t disappear, but is enraptured and embraced by the beloved.

Everyone at some level wants peace. Peace of heart, peace of mind, peace at home, peace in the world. But most people can’t find it. Only the Prince of Peace can bring peace. To find peace you need to focus on Christ.

The Year of Faith has begun and soon the elections will be behind us.  We hope and pray of course that no matter who wins the election, the federal government will respect the religious beliefs of its citizens in accordance with the constitution and basic human rights.

The Holy Father established the Year of Faith to commemorate two important events: the opening of Vatican II and the publication of the Catechism. But he also established it for another reason: belief in God and religious practice in many parts of the developed world is waning (one-fifth of all Americans identify as religiously unaffiliated).  As faith and religious practice recede, secularism fills the gap. Secularism used to mean neutrality with respect to religion. The kind of secularism that’s emerging now, however, is more antagonistic. In some cases, like the HHS mandate, secularism seeks to impose its beliefs on religious people and institutions by using the super-incumbent power of the state to force them to do things that violate their beliefs.

The ability of the government to impose secular ideologies on people of faith, however, would not be possible if faith were stronger.   CARA (Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) did a survey for the USCCB in 2007. They found that just under one-third of adult Catholics (31.4 percent) are estimated to attend Mass in any given week. Msgr. Charles Pope of the diocese of Washington D.C. reiterated these findings, saying

“In the early 1950s there were about 35 million Catholics in the US. Today there are over 75 million. This number however does not distinguish between practicing and non-practicing Catholics. It is estimated that just over 80% of Catholics attended Mass each Sunday in the 1950s. Today it is estimated that about 25% of Catholics go each Sunday. That means that in the early 1950s about 28 million Catholics were in Church each Sunday. Today that number, even with a growing Catholic population, has dropped to 19.2 million. In other words, almost 9 million fewer Catholics are in Church now as compared to the 1950s.”

As faith shrinks so does belief in the sovereignty of Christ. Secularism might tolerate the idea of people going to church on Sunday and praying privately as long they keep their beliefs to themselves. But whether we keep our faith to ourselves or not, the fact is that Jesus Christ is still Lord of heaven and earth. This isn’t just a pious sentiment; it’s a fact. True, Jesus’ kingship is not of this world, but that only means it’s not defined by ordinary political categories (John 18:36). His kingdom does not belong to this world, but that doesn’t mean it’s indifferent toward the world.  And how does Christ exercise his kingship in the world? Not by wielding political power, but by telling the truth (John 18:37).

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” Jesus said (Matthew 28:18). The next statement – “Go, therefore …” – implies that that authority was given to the apostles and their successors. The Pope and the bishops in communion with him have no other authority than that which has been given to them by Christ, which is to bear witness to the truth. Speaking truth to power as Jesus did is one of the main functions of a bishop. But that doesn’t relieve us from the responsibility to do the same. By virtue of our baptism we too share in Christ’s kingship, albeit differently than those in holy orders. Here’s what the Catechism says:

“The social duty of Christians is to respect and awaken in each man the love of the true and the good. It requires them to make known the worship of the one true religion which subsists in the Catholic and apostolic Church. Christians are called to be the light of the world. Thus, the Church shows forth the kingship of Christ over all creation and in particular over human societies.” [2105]

That last sentence bears repeating: “The Church shows forth the kingship of Christ over all creation and in particular over human societies.”  Christ exercises his dominion in the world through the Church as we follow him faithfully each day praying: “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

November 25 is the solemnity of Christ the King. Regardless of the outcome of the election, this important solemnity should remind us that Christ was, is and always will be Lord of heaven and earth no matter what the politicians or bureaucrats say, or do.

The Year of Faith starts October 11. Pope Benedict has invited all of us to renew our faith by returning to the basics: the Catechism, the documents of Vatican II, the saints and, above all, the witness of faith by example of a holy life and works of charity.

Faith is both a gift of God and a human act. The presence of the Holy Spirit infused at baptism moves the heart to believe in God. At the same time, faith is a human act. Endowed by God with intellect and free will man is capable of cooperating with or resisting divine grace. By an act of faith man freely assents to the whole truth revealed by God which the Church proposes for belief. “It is one of the major tenets of Catholic doctrine that man’s response to God in faith must be free.” (Declaration on Human Freedom, 10)

Perhaps it’s providential that the Year of Faith coincides with the fact that  religious liberty and other basic freedoms are slowly being eroded. As secularism grows and becomes more assertive, people of faith are increasingly put on the defensive. Up to now, going to church and practicing your faith was rather unremarkable – a nice little hobby if that was your thing. But now, being a person of faith takes courage.  But we’ve got it easy when you compare the situation in America to what’s happening to Christians in other parts of the world where people literally risk their lives to go to Mass.

Christians in Iraq, Syria, Egypt, Nigeria and other places regularly face open hostility because of their faith. These people are the real heroes of the faith today and a tremendous inspiration to the rest of us.