There is a billboard just outside the Jersey entrance to the Lincoln tunnel that is getting a lot of attention. It shows the three wise men following a star and the words: "You KNOW it's a myth. This season, celebrate reason."
This billboard and others like it were erected by a group calling itself Atheist Americans. It has several people upset and others all worked up. Certain radio personalities see this as more proof that there is an orchestrated "War on Christmas."
The odd thing is, both groups are right. The story of the wise men visiting the Christ Child is a myth. But a myth is not a made-up fairy tale. A myth, in theological terms, is a special story that gives meaning and purpose to people's lives. Myths may be based on historical facts or not. That is secondary to the meaning the story gives.
Myths use poetic or symbolic language to convey deeper truths that cannot be expressed in purely scientific terms. If I tell you "I am very sad" that may be scientifically accurate, but saying "My heart is broken" is closer to the truth, although no x-ray will show a literally broken heart.
Atheists claim there is no scientific proof for the existence of God. But what scientific proof is there for the existence of love? Or forgiveness? Or mercy? We know these exist because we experience them; we feel them; they fill our hearts with hope. Such it also is with God.
The Christmas story celebrates all these things in human flesh. The story of the three wise men teaches that love, forgiveness and mercy are intended for all people and everyone can find them, if they seek them with open hearts. And if you don't believe in that, you are truly a sad person who deserves our pity more than our anger.
But then, what of the so-called Christians who are convinced there is a so-called War on Christmas? These well-meaning but misguided souls are right, but for the wrong reasons. An atheistic billboard is not an attack on Christmas. Stores putting up signs that say "Happy Holidays" is not a war on Christmas. The government forbidding a Nativity set on federal property is not an attack on Christmas.
If anything, atheistic billboards and the government should remind us of just how precious the freedom of religion is and how it needs protection.
No, the real war on Christmas is going on every day when shoppers knock each other down and trample people to get at the bargains. The real war on Christmas is when we are so busy decorating our homes and going to parties and wrapping last minute gifts we don't have time to listen to friends who feel alone, or sick or depressed. The real war on Christmas happens when we stop acting like Christians.
And so we come to the First Sunday of Advent, a time of waiting and warning. If there's one thing Americans hate doing and do very poorly is wait. We want immediate action and instant gratification. But Advent reminds us somethings cannot be rushed, no matter how much you want them right away, like the birth of a baby.
And the gospel gives us a warning not to become too attached to this present world, because it can and will all change in an instant. Lighting the first Advent candle will not make the daylight return, but it will help dispel the growing darkness until it does.
Sometimes, as people of faith, the only thing we can do is wait. And watch. And pray. We pray for atheists, that they may soon see the true light. And we pray for believers, that their eyes do not become too accustomed to the darkness.
And we wait with open hearts for the day when the world once again gives birth to love, forgiveness and mercy. Two thousand years ago a Child was born and our world forever changed. May the light from that "myth" guide our lives and the lives of all men and women everywhere until the end of time.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Reporting for duty! The Feast of Christ the King (Nov. 21, 2010)
There was once a king who ruled a large kingdom with justice, peace and prosperity. Many men proudly served their king as loyal and brave knights. One knight, Sir Dexter, was the bravest of all. He set out to defend the kingdom. When he did not return for several months, the king became worried. Finally after more than a year's absence, Sir Dexter returned. On foot. His horse was dead. His suit of armor was all dented. His lance was broken. He had two black eyes. And his head, arms and legs were covered with bruises.
"Sir Dexter!" the king exclaimed. "What in God's name happened to you?"
"Your majesty," the knight said after catching his breath. "I am back from doing battle with your enemies all along your western border."
The king was confused and said, "But I don't have any enemies on the western border."
The knight replied. "Well, you do now."
Today we celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. It is the last Sunday of our liturgical year and the goal towards which every Sunday of the year points. Indeed, for people of the Christian faith, the kingship of Christ is the ultimate goal of human history and of the entire universe.
We believe that on the Last Day, a trumpet shall sound and all the dead shall be raised and brought before Christ, our God and king, to be judged. And like Sir Dexter in the opening story, we will appear with all our bruises and battle scars before Christ who will judge us not so much by how many Masses we attended or rosaries we said or how well we understood the Bible. Rather, our lives will be judged on whether, by our words and actions, we made people friends or enemies of God's kingdom. Did we draw people to God or drive them from God? Did we show by our actions that love is stronger than hate, that forgiveness is mightier than hurt, that mercy is more powerful than revenge? Or did we imitate the ways of the world?
When Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate and announced, "My kingdom is not of this world," he didn't just mean his kingdom does not have geographical borders, but rather that the values of the kingdom of God are not things this world respects or recognizes. The weapons used by defenders of God's kingdom are not those used by defenders of this world.
In the kingdom of God, you do not destroy an enemy by hating, much less by killing him or her. That just succeeds in making more enemies. Our weapons are humility, and truth, and honesty and service.
On the other hand, we cannot long use the weapons of this world: exploitation, cheating, deception, lying and violence without becoming like this world. If we become like this world, we cannot expect the kingdom of God to advance in our hearts, much less on this earth.
The Romans nailed Jesus to a cross not just to punish him but to warn us, his followers, of what will happen to any who dare oppose the empire by following Christ. And above his head they hung a sign with the initials I.N.R.I. (Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews).
Today we boldly lift high the cross of Christ as a warning to empires: your power is finished, your reign has ended, your days are numbered. The final victory is Christ's. Yet the spiritual war continues.
The battle is not waged on some distant border against a distant foe. The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged goes on everyday in the battlefield of our own hearts and minds and souls.
On this great feast of Christ the King, let us redouble our efforts to do good and avoid evil. If we have bad habits, let us renew our resolve to break them. If we have sins, let us repent and confess them. Let us show everyone we meet how great our God is. Let us make friends for God while we can.
And let us look to that day when we will all stand before the throne of God as allies of Christ on earth. And if the king says, "I didn't know I had any allies on earth," we can proudly claim, "You do now."
"Sir Dexter!" the king exclaimed. "What in God's name happened to you?"
"Your majesty," the knight said after catching his breath. "I am back from doing battle with your enemies all along your western border."
The king was confused and said, "But I don't have any enemies on the western border."
The knight replied. "Well, you do now."
Today we celebrate the solemnity of Christ the King. It is the last Sunday of our liturgical year and the goal towards which every Sunday of the year points. Indeed, for people of the Christian faith, the kingship of Christ is the ultimate goal of human history and of the entire universe.
We believe that on the Last Day, a trumpet shall sound and all the dead shall be raised and brought before Christ, our God and king, to be judged. And like Sir Dexter in the opening story, we will appear with all our bruises and battle scars before Christ who will judge us not so much by how many Masses we attended or rosaries we said or how well we understood the Bible. Rather, our lives will be judged on whether, by our words and actions, we made people friends or enemies of God's kingdom. Did we draw people to God or drive them from God? Did we show by our actions that love is stronger than hate, that forgiveness is mightier than hurt, that mercy is more powerful than revenge? Or did we imitate the ways of the world?
When Jesus stood before Pontius Pilate and announced, "My kingdom is not of this world," he didn't just mean his kingdom does not have geographical borders, but rather that the values of the kingdom of God are not things this world respects or recognizes. The weapons used by defenders of God's kingdom are not those used by defenders of this world.
In the kingdom of God, you do not destroy an enemy by hating, much less by killing him or her. That just succeeds in making more enemies. Our weapons are humility, and truth, and honesty and service.
On the other hand, we cannot long use the weapons of this world: exploitation, cheating, deception, lying and violence without becoming like this world. If we become like this world, we cannot expect the kingdom of God to advance in our hearts, much less on this earth.
The Romans nailed Jesus to a cross not just to punish him but to warn us, his followers, of what will happen to any who dare oppose the empire by following Christ. And above his head they hung a sign with the initials I.N.R.I. (Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews).
Today we boldly lift high the cross of Christ as a warning to empires: your power is finished, your reign has ended, your days are numbered. The final victory is Christ's. Yet the spiritual war continues.
The battle is not waged on some distant border against a distant foe. The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged goes on everyday in the battlefield of our own hearts and minds and souls.
On this great feast of Christ the King, let us redouble our efforts to do good and avoid evil. If we have bad habits, let us renew our resolve to break them. If we have sins, let us repent and confess them. Let us show everyone we meet how great our God is. Let us make friends for God while we can.
And let us look to that day when we will all stand before the throne of God as allies of Christ on earth. And if the king says, "I didn't know I had any allies on earth," we can proudly claim, "You do now."
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Going to Hoboken in a hand basket (26th Sunday in Ordinary Time)
Today's gospel annoys me, and it should annoy you as well. I mean, we go to all that trouble to learn the commandments so we can live by the rules, avoid going to hell and hopefully getting into heaven, then WHAM! along comes Jesus with this parable.
Lazarus, a poor man, dies and goes to heaven; the rich man---who has no name and therefore no identity--dies and is buried. Lazarus finds himself cradled in the bosom of Abraham, which is a great place to be cradled. The rich man finds himself in a place of torment, so we can assume if it's not hell it's at least some place in north Jersey. Probably near Bayonne or Elizabeth. Maybe Newark.
Anyway, that's not the disturbing part, unless you happen to be visiting us today from New Jersey, in which case I apologize, but don't blame me, I didn't write the gospel. Take it up with Luke should you be lucky enough one day to find yourself in the bosom of Abraham and not in that "place of torment." Trust me, it's an improvement.
But I digress. What is really disturbing about today's gospel is that Luke does not tell us WHY the rich man ended up in hell. It doesn't mention any mortal sin he may have committed to suffer eternal torment. It doesn't even say he intentionally ignored Lazarus lying outside his door. He was rich and he enjoyed his things and presumably he enjoyed his life. What's wrong with that? Apparently something.
Surely the gospel doesn't mean to imply that all rich people are headed toward hell.
At the beginning of Mass, we confess to God and one another that we have sinned in our thoughts, in our words, in what we have done---and what we have failed to do. A sin of omission! When we do not do good, we commit a sin! Missing Mass is the most obvious. But we also have the obligation to love one another, to forgive one another, to help one another. And when we do not do these things, we, like the rich man, run the risk of winding up in Hoboken. (Sorry! I meant hell!)
But there is another annoying part in today's gospel. What did Lazarus do to merit going to heaven? Did he pray a lot? Did he go to church? Luke doesn't tell us. Does Lazarus go to heaven just because he's poor? Put another way, do poor people automatically go to heaven?
We know poor people can be as greedy, rude, and selfish like the rest of us. So what makes Lazarus special? The answer is in his name. A name, especially in the Bible, gives us a clue about a person's character and role in life. Lazarus is the English form of the Hebrew name Eleazer. It means, "God is my help." Lazarus trusted God alone, in spite of all hardships, poverty and hunger. And God rewarded that trust. The dogs that came to lick Lazarus' wounds are a poor person's health care.
Some in this church today are like Lazarus. Perhaps they lost their jobs or their health is not good. Maybe they are sad or depressed. Today's gospel calls them to put their trust in God alone. And the rich man is given no name, not just because he has no identity, but so that each of us can put ourselves in his place and examine our lives by gospel values and not just enjoy life. We must be concerned about the poor people around us. God may be helping them through us.
[Here's proof God has a sense of humor. On my way driving on the local streets to church today, I spotted a poor, old woman sitting on the curb. I thought , "God, I have no time to stop and help that poor person. I have to get to church so I can tell parishioners to help poor people!"]
If we ignore the cry of the poor, if we refuse to do good, we runs the risk of ending up someplace much worse than Hoboken.
Lazarus, a poor man, dies and goes to heaven; the rich man---who has no name and therefore no identity--dies and is buried. Lazarus finds himself cradled in the bosom of Abraham, which is a great place to be cradled. The rich man finds himself in a place of torment, so we can assume if it's not hell it's at least some place in north Jersey. Probably near Bayonne or Elizabeth. Maybe Newark.
Anyway, that's not the disturbing part, unless you happen to be visiting us today from New Jersey, in which case I apologize, but don't blame me, I didn't write the gospel. Take it up with Luke should you be lucky enough one day to find yourself in the bosom of Abraham and not in that "place of torment." Trust me, it's an improvement.
But I digress. What is really disturbing about today's gospel is that Luke does not tell us WHY the rich man ended up in hell. It doesn't mention any mortal sin he may have committed to suffer eternal torment. It doesn't even say he intentionally ignored Lazarus lying outside his door. He was rich and he enjoyed his things and presumably he enjoyed his life. What's wrong with that? Apparently something.
Surely the gospel doesn't mean to imply that all rich people are headed toward hell.
At the beginning of Mass, we confess to God and one another that we have sinned in our thoughts, in our words, in what we have done---and what we have failed to do. A sin of omission! When we do not do good, we commit a sin! Missing Mass is the most obvious. But we also have the obligation to love one another, to forgive one another, to help one another. And when we do not do these things, we, like the rich man, run the risk of winding up in Hoboken. (Sorry! I meant hell!)
But there is another annoying part in today's gospel. What did Lazarus do to merit going to heaven? Did he pray a lot? Did he go to church? Luke doesn't tell us. Does Lazarus go to heaven just because he's poor? Put another way, do poor people automatically go to heaven?
We know poor people can be as greedy, rude, and selfish like the rest of us. So what makes Lazarus special? The answer is in his name. A name, especially in the Bible, gives us a clue about a person's character and role in life. Lazarus is the English form of the Hebrew name Eleazer. It means, "God is my help." Lazarus trusted God alone, in spite of all hardships, poverty and hunger. And God rewarded that trust. The dogs that came to lick Lazarus' wounds are a poor person's health care.
Some in this church today are like Lazarus. Perhaps they lost their jobs or their health is not good. Maybe they are sad or depressed. Today's gospel calls them to put their trust in God alone. And the rich man is given no name, not just because he has no identity, but so that each of us can put ourselves in his place and examine our lives by gospel values and not just enjoy life. We must be concerned about the poor people around us. God may be helping them through us.
[Here's proof God has a sense of humor. On my way driving on the local streets to church today, I spotted a poor, old woman sitting on the curb. I thought , "God, I have no time to stop and help that poor person. I have to get to church so I can tell parishioners to help poor people!"]
If we ignore the cry of the poor, if we refuse to do good, we runs the risk of ending up someplace much worse than Hoboken.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Interreligious bake-off! (Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time)
I have a recipe for the best cake in the world. This cake is so delicious, you'll never want any other. One taste and you'll be in heaven. This recipe is better than any cake recipe anyone else has ever known. And it's free!
Do you detect anything missing in what I just said? I can stand up here and brag all I want on how good this recipe is, but the only way to convince you I have the recipe for the most excellent cake EVER, is for me to actually bake that cake and let you taste it for yourselves. Of course, it's always easier--and safer--just talking about it than actually baking it. After all, anybody can talk. And I might fail.
You see, the problem is, our Muslim neighbors across the street say they have the best recipe. What's more, they claim it came directly from God. The Buddhists up the block insist their cake is out of this world. The Jews, of course, gave us the original recipe but we perfected it with a special, all-important ingedient. Now Protestants contend we Catholics have distorted the recipe by using way too much sugar and frosting and we Catholics think their cake is only half-baked.
We could go on and on arguing whose recipe is the best, but there is only one way to prove it: bake the cake. Taste it. Offer it to others. Then let the world decide.
This analogy would be funny were it not for the wars that have been fought and are being fought even as we gather in prayer today, wars over whose religion is the true religion, whose way of life is best, whose understanding of God is correct.
How ironic that we profess belief in a God of compassion and forgiveness; ironic because centuries ago Catholics slaughtered Muslims in the battle for Jerusalem, and Catholics killed Eastern Orthodox Christians in the siege of Constantinople and Catholics butchered Protestants in France and Spain---all in the name of the God of compassion. To be sure, over the centuries Muslims and Protestants have killed their share of Catholics.
Whose to blame? There's plenty of blame to go around. Most religions have blood on their hands. So, is there something wrong with the recipe? Perhaps the ingredients aren't right? Or is the baker to blame? Some people became so discouraged, disappointed or disgusted with all the sins committed in the name of God and religion that they have given up on baking altogether. We call them atheists.
This Book of the Gospels we carry in solemn procession at the beginning of Mass, this Book we enthrone upon the altar, this Book from which we proclaim the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, this is our recipe for nothing less than eternal life. But it is only as good, and useful, and effective as our willingness to follow it and live by its instructions. Believe, Repent, Forgive, Love.
Believe in Jesus. Repent your sins. Forgive others. And love! Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself; love one another; love your enemies. Leave out any one of these and your faith will be incomplete. Your faith will be incomplete because your life is incomplete.
Today's gospel underscores the great mystery of God's forgiveness. God does not sit passively in some far away heaven until we decide to return. God actively waits and worries and watches the distant horizon for any sign we have come to our senses. God runs out to meet us halfway.
Forgiveness is actually the main ingredient of our recipe. Jesus gave the last drop of his blood on the cross to make God's forgiveness available, not just to us but to everyone. Who are we then to deny forgiveness to others?
As the Parable of the Good Samaritan points out, it doesn't matter why we return to the Father. God doesn't care to listen to our lame excuses for why we came back, God is just happy to have us back home. And those of us who never left, who never strayed, who never sinned, who are we to pout like the older brother when God is merciful to sinners? Trust me, the day will come when you too will stand in need of forgiveness.
Nine years ago the world watched in horror as a few misguided Muslims slammed airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Since then, some misguided Christians concluded there must be something evil about the Quran for it to produce such evil men. Last week the world watched in horror as some misguided Christians threatened to burn the Muslim holy book. Wouldn't it be just as wrong to conclude there must be something wrong with the Bible for it to produce such idiots? Is there something wrong with our Bible if it produced the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the recent sex abuse scandals? Would burning the Bible solve the problem?
But is the problem with the Book, or with the bakers?
I've read translations of parts of the Quran. Some of it is very beautiful. Some of it is very violent. The same thing can be said of the Old Testament. Now, the Quran does mention Jesus and accepts him as a holy prophet sent by God. It says he was born of the Virgin Mary and even rose from the dead and returned to God. So far so good.
But the Quran explicitly denies Jesus is the Son of God or that he was crucified or that his death on the cross brought salvation to the world. Of course Muslims deny this. If they didn't, they'd be Christians.
The question isn't why Muslims don't believe in Jesus as the Son of God; the question is what difference does it make to those of us who do?
We cannot confess Jesus is Lord, then not follow his example.
We cannot believe Jesus died for our sins, but then stubbornly refuse to forgive others.
We cannot call ourselves Christian, but then ignore Jesus' commandments.
Believe. Repent. Forgive. Love.
Anything less is a recipe for disaster.
Do you detect anything missing in what I just said? I can stand up here and brag all I want on how good this recipe is, but the only way to convince you I have the recipe for the most excellent cake EVER, is for me to actually bake that cake and let you taste it for yourselves. Of course, it's always easier--and safer--just talking about it than actually baking it. After all, anybody can talk. And I might fail.
You see, the problem is, our Muslim neighbors across the street say they have the best recipe. What's more, they claim it came directly from God. The Buddhists up the block insist their cake is out of this world. The Jews, of course, gave us the original recipe but we perfected it with a special, all-important ingedient. Now Protestants contend we Catholics have distorted the recipe by using way too much sugar and frosting and we Catholics think their cake is only half-baked.
We could go on and on arguing whose recipe is the best, but there is only one way to prove it: bake the cake. Taste it. Offer it to others. Then let the world decide.
This analogy would be funny were it not for the wars that have been fought and are being fought even as we gather in prayer today, wars over whose religion is the true religion, whose way of life is best, whose understanding of God is correct.
How ironic that we profess belief in a God of compassion and forgiveness; ironic because centuries ago Catholics slaughtered Muslims in the battle for Jerusalem, and Catholics killed Eastern Orthodox Christians in the siege of Constantinople and Catholics butchered Protestants in France and Spain---all in the name of the God of compassion. To be sure, over the centuries Muslims and Protestants have killed their share of Catholics.
Whose to blame? There's plenty of blame to go around. Most religions have blood on their hands. So, is there something wrong with the recipe? Perhaps the ingredients aren't right? Or is the baker to blame? Some people became so discouraged, disappointed or disgusted with all the sins committed in the name of God and religion that they have given up on baking altogether. We call them atheists.
This Book of the Gospels we carry in solemn procession at the beginning of Mass, this Book we enthrone upon the altar, this Book from which we proclaim the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, this is our recipe for nothing less than eternal life. But it is only as good, and useful, and effective as our willingness to follow it and live by its instructions. Believe, Repent, Forgive, Love.
Believe in Jesus. Repent your sins. Forgive others. And love! Love God and love your neighbor as you love yourself; love one another; love your enemies. Leave out any one of these and your faith will be incomplete. Your faith will be incomplete because your life is incomplete.
Today's gospel underscores the great mystery of God's forgiveness. God does not sit passively in some far away heaven until we decide to return. God actively waits and worries and watches the distant horizon for any sign we have come to our senses. God runs out to meet us halfway.
Forgiveness is actually the main ingredient of our recipe. Jesus gave the last drop of his blood on the cross to make God's forgiveness available, not just to us but to everyone. Who are we then to deny forgiveness to others?
As the Parable of the Good Samaritan points out, it doesn't matter why we return to the Father. God doesn't care to listen to our lame excuses for why we came back, God is just happy to have us back home. And those of us who never left, who never strayed, who never sinned, who are we to pout like the older brother when God is merciful to sinners? Trust me, the day will come when you too will stand in need of forgiveness.
Nine years ago the world watched in horror as a few misguided Muslims slammed airplanes into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Since then, some misguided Christians concluded there must be something evil about the Quran for it to produce such evil men. Last week the world watched in horror as some misguided Christians threatened to burn the Muslim holy book. Wouldn't it be just as wrong to conclude there must be something wrong with the Bible for it to produce such idiots? Is there something wrong with our Bible if it produced the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the recent sex abuse scandals? Would burning the Bible solve the problem?
But is the problem with the Book, or with the bakers?
I've read translations of parts of the Quran. Some of it is very beautiful. Some of it is very violent. The same thing can be said of the Old Testament. Now, the Quran does mention Jesus and accepts him as a holy prophet sent by God. It says he was born of the Virgin Mary and even rose from the dead and returned to God. So far so good.
But the Quran explicitly denies Jesus is the Son of God or that he was crucified or that his death on the cross brought salvation to the world. Of course Muslims deny this. If they didn't, they'd be Christians.
The question isn't why Muslims don't believe in Jesus as the Son of God; the question is what difference does it make to those of us who do?
We cannot confess Jesus is Lord, then not follow his example.
We cannot believe Jesus died for our sins, but then stubbornly refuse to forgive others.
We cannot call ourselves Christian, but then ignore Jesus' commandments.
Believe. Repent. Forgive. Love.
Anything less is a recipe for disaster.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Flipped over Flipped---a movie review
I begrudgingly attended the preview showing for the new Rob Reiner film Flipped (opening Friday, August 27, 2010), thoroughly expecting to roll my eyes for 90 minutes of saccharine, prepubescent puppy love.
Was I pleasantly surprised! This film drew me in and won me over by reawakening memories and emotions long dormant or at least dulled by the sensory overload of modern living.
The story harkens back to the late 1950s, when life was certainly simpler yet paradoxically deeper. By contrast, life these days seems way more complicated yet oddly superficial.
"Back in the day" people communicated by actually talking face to face with one another, or else showed disapproval by refusing to talk at all. This was long before the Internet, email and yes, even this most magnificent iPad, reduced our social interaction to a series of LOLs and :)s, if not WTFs.
Against this backdrop of life before cell phones, familiar (albeit all too rare nowadays) human feelings bubble to the surface: shyness, infatuation, hurt, courage, honesty and integrity shine out without the aid of mind-numbing FX and CGI.
When was the last time you saw a movie that both entertained you and made you think? No 3D, no IMAX, no gratuitous nudity, no vulgarities, no sex scenes, no drugs, no violence---just superb acting bringing a well-written and delightful script to life. If there is any downside to the movie, it's in the realization that over the past 50 years we somehow have lost the centrality of family. People still face the very same situations raised in the movie, only now our problems are compounded by isolation and self-imposed exile from one another.
Not coincidentally, I'm sure, the mothers in the two families are the catalysts for change. A family meal and a basket lunch provide pivotal moments for the characters to break through barriers and break down walls.
Coming against Sty Stalone's blockbuster The Expendables (which I also enjoyed, btw, for its adventure genre: mindless mayhem) with nonstop explosions, chase scenes and bloody violence, the low-key Flipped will not rake in the big bucks, but by contrast it will leave the audience rather than the filmmaker enriched.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Of women and Earth (Feast of the Assumption, Aug. 15)
As a doctrine articulated by the Church as dogma, the Assumption of Mary, that is, after her death she was assumed body and soul into heaven, is only 70 years old. But the belief that, like her Son, Mary now lives in eternal glory goes back to the time of the apostles.
Last June I had the opportunity to visit the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey and see the place where local tradition maintains our Blessed Mother spent the last years of her life under the care of St. John, the Beloved Disciple. An ancient story told by Orthodox Christians is that as Mary lay dying, the remaining Apostles were drawn to her side. Only Thomas was late---as usual. After he arrived, John brought him to see her tomb but when they opened it, her body was gone.
From this arose the Orthodox feast of the Dormition (or sleep) of Mary, a phrase alluded to in the second reading where St. Paul refers to "those who have fallen asleep in Christ."
Since those early days, Christians gathered in Ephesus every August 15 to celebrate Mary's bodily assumption into heaven. And it was in Ephesus that the first Christian church was built and dedicated Mary. And it was at that church the Council of Ephesus met in 431 and declared Mary to be the "Theotokos", the Bearer or God, or as we say in the West, the Mother of God.
It is regrettable that Catholic devotion to the Virgin Mary is misunderstood by many Protestants and remains a source of division. Although the tradition is old, the feast of the Assumption has an important message for people today.
If we believe that at this very moment the body of the Virgin Mary has been glorified and that she lives in heaven with her Son, we are compelled to respect women and the Earth. After all, it was through these that the savior came into the world and it was from these that every cell of Jesus' body came.
There was nothing wrong with a woman bearing the Son of God; there was nothing wrong with that same woman entering heaven as a woman.
How can we glorify a woman in heaven and ignore the plight of women on earth? How can we advocate for the rights of women in our society yet we deny them rights in the Church? Respect for women must start with us here.
The Vatican has determined that women cannot be ordained. This strikes me as odd, since more than any male priest, Mary can point to Jesus and say, "This is my body; this is my blood." If a woman can produce the body of Christ physically, why can't a woman produce it sacramentally? The argument that women cannot be ordained because none was present at the Last Supper, taken to its conclusion, means women have no right to receive communion either.
But women face larger problems then this. Health care, education, employment, domestic violence, human trafficking and exploitation all threaten the women of the world on a daily basis.
The Earth, too, continues to suffer abuse and pollution. Do we take the Assumption of Mary into heaven seriously? Then let us honor, protect and advocate on behalf of women and the Earth today.
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(Note: After delivering this homily at St. Paul Chong Ha-Sang Korean Catholic church last Sunday, I attended a meeting of the parish building committee. On the blueprints for the new center, I noticed there were fewer toilets for women then for men. They promised to correct this oversight. The women of the parish will be greatly relieved. [insert groan] Sometimes advocating for women can be something very practical and down to earth! ~ FB)
Last June I had the opportunity to visit the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey and see the place where local tradition maintains our Blessed Mother spent the last years of her life under the care of St. John, the Beloved Disciple. An ancient story told by Orthodox Christians is that as Mary lay dying, the remaining Apostles were drawn to her side. Only Thomas was late---as usual. After he arrived, John brought him to see her tomb but when they opened it, her body was gone.
From this arose the Orthodox feast of the Dormition (or sleep) of Mary, a phrase alluded to in the second reading where St. Paul refers to "those who have fallen asleep in Christ."
Since those early days, Christians gathered in Ephesus every August 15 to celebrate Mary's bodily assumption into heaven. And it was in Ephesus that the first Christian church was built and dedicated Mary. And it was at that church the Council of Ephesus met in 431 and declared Mary to be the "Theotokos", the Bearer or God, or as we say in the West, the Mother of God.
It is regrettable that Catholic devotion to the Virgin Mary is misunderstood by many Protestants and remains a source of division. Although the tradition is old, the feast of the Assumption has an important message for people today.
If we believe that at this very moment the body of the Virgin Mary has been glorified and that she lives in heaven with her Son, we are compelled to respect women and the Earth. After all, it was through these that the savior came into the world and it was from these that every cell of Jesus' body came.
There was nothing wrong with a woman bearing the Son of God; there was nothing wrong with that same woman entering heaven as a woman.
How can we glorify a woman in heaven and ignore the plight of women on earth? How can we advocate for the rights of women in our society yet we deny them rights in the Church? Respect for women must start with us here.
The Vatican has determined that women cannot be ordained. This strikes me as odd, since more than any male priest, Mary can point to Jesus and say, "This is my body; this is my blood." If a woman can produce the body of Christ physically, why can't a woman produce it sacramentally? The argument that women cannot be ordained because none was present at the Last Supper, taken to its conclusion, means women have no right to receive communion either.
But women face larger problems then this. Health care, education, employment, domestic violence, human trafficking and exploitation all threaten the women of the world on a daily basis.
The Earth, too, continues to suffer abuse and pollution. Do we take the Assumption of Mary into heaven seriously? Then let us honor, protect and advocate on behalf of women and the Earth today.
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(Note: After delivering this homily at St. Paul Chong Ha-Sang Korean Catholic church last Sunday, I attended a meeting of the parish building committee. On the blueprints for the new center, I noticed there were fewer toilets for women then for men. They promised to correct this oversight. The women of the parish will be greatly relieved. [insert groan] Sometimes advocating for women can be something very practical and down to earth! ~ FB)
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Becoming prayers (17th Sunday Year C)
Today's readings focus on prayer, prayer not as a monologue, where I tell God what's on my mind and what God already knows, but as a dialogue. A conversation. I ask, and God gives. I seek, and God helps me find. I knock and God opens.
One of my Facebook friends posted something on my wall today. She said, "God is not answering our prayers. And my tears mean nothing to him." It took me quite awhile to respond. Finally I wrote, "That's exactly what our Blessed Mother thought on Calvary."
Of course, no one knows what went though our Blessed Mother's mind that dark Friday afternoon, as she cradled the crucified body of her Son. Her pain must have been tremendous precisely because her love and her faith were tremendous. But perhaps because she was in constant communion with God, this sustained her in her greatest hour of need.
Today's readings ask us to consider not just if we pray, but how we pray. Abraham didn't recite formal prayers to God to spare the citizens of Sodom. He bargained with God like you would bargain in an open market for a basket of figs. God kept his side of the bargain. Unfortunately there were not ten righteous men in all of Sodom, and so the city was destroyed.
In Luke's gospel today, the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray and he gives them what we have come to call the Lord's Prayer, prayed by Christians around the world to this day. Of course, the version we pray is not like the one in today's gospel nor is it even like the one in Matthew's. That's the point. Jesus is not giving us the exact words in which to pray. (If he were, we'd be praying in Aramaic.) Rather he gives us the attitude and spirit in which to pray.
One of my favorite stories about prayer concerns a simple grandfather, uneducated and unsophisticated who had stopped coming to church for many years. Then one day he decided it was time to make a fresh start so he went to confession. The priest gave him absolution and, as a penance, asked him to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glory Bes. There was only one problem. It had been so long since he'd been to church, he forgot how to recite all these prayers. And he was too embarrassed to say anything, let alone admit he couldn't read.
About 30 minutes later the priest came out of the confessional and was surprised to see that grandfather still in church, kneeling in front of the altar, and apparently still praying. Now, the priest knew it shouldn't take so long to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Mary's and three Glory Be's so, out of curiosity he drew closer to see if he could hear the grandfather's prayer. To his surprise and confusion, this is what he heard: "A B C D E F G... the entire alphabet to W X Y Z" and then the old man would start all over again, "A B C D..." After listening to this two times, the priest could not contain his curiosity so he tapped the grandfather on the shoulder and gently asked what he was doing. "Father, I am truly sorry," the old man explained, "But I forgot how to say my prayers. So instead, I thought I'd offer God all the letters of the alphabet many times and let him put the words together whatever way he wants."
My brothers and sisters in Christ, the prayer of that old man went straight to God's ears because it was spoken from the heart. It doesn't matter if we pray in Latin, Korean, English or Swahili, or use fancy sentences and correct grammar or even what words we use, as long as we too pray from the heart.
A Maryknoll missioner in Irian Jaya, which is in eastern Indonesia, made this observation about the people there, many of whom are not Catholic and who still practice native customs, what we might call "superstitions." After watching a fisherman prepare to lower his nets, the priest observed: "The pagan who prays to the wind is closer to God than the Christian who does not pray."
Do we really pray? By that I mean do we do more than simply recite prayers, whether it's the rosary, or Stations of the Cross, or even the Mass? Prayer is like having God's personal phone number. It's nice to have the contact information but if we don't stop and listen, how will we hear God's answer? It would be like speed dialing the same number over and over again then hanging up even before we hear God say hello? We would be spiritually stalking God. Yes, we need to say prayers, but above all we need to stop and listen in silence for God's answer in the deepest recesses of our heart.
It's interesting how in English the word "prayer" has two meanings. The common understanding is words spoken to God; but it also can refer to the one who prays. We are not only supposed to offer prayers, we are supposed to become prayers.
When our every waking moment is spent giving glory and thanks and praise to God, when we beg God's mercy and intercede on behalf of others, when we spend time with the Scriptures and listen with our hearts to God's voice, we become prayers and our life is God's answer.
One of my Facebook friends posted something on my wall today. She said, "God is not answering our prayers. And my tears mean nothing to him." It took me quite awhile to respond. Finally I wrote, "That's exactly what our Blessed Mother thought on Calvary."
Of course, no one knows what went though our Blessed Mother's mind that dark Friday afternoon, as she cradled the crucified body of her Son. Her pain must have been tremendous precisely because her love and her faith were tremendous. But perhaps because she was in constant communion with God, this sustained her in her greatest hour of need.
Today's readings ask us to consider not just if we pray, but how we pray. Abraham didn't recite formal prayers to God to spare the citizens of Sodom. He bargained with God like you would bargain in an open market for a basket of figs. God kept his side of the bargain. Unfortunately there were not ten righteous men in all of Sodom, and so the city was destroyed.
In Luke's gospel today, the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray and he gives them what we have come to call the Lord's Prayer, prayed by Christians around the world to this day. Of course, the version we pray is not like the one in today's gospel nor is it even like the one in Matthew's. That's the point. Jesus is not giving us the exact words in which to pray. (If he were, we'd be praying in Aramaic.) Rather he gives us the attitude and spirit in which to pray.
One of my favorite stories about prayer concerns a simple grandfather, uneducated and unsophisticated who had stopped coming to church for many years. Then one day he decided it was time to make a fresh start so he went to confession. The priest gave him absolution and, as a penance, asked him to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Marys, and three Glory Bes. There was only one problem. It had been so long since he'd been to church, he forgot how to recite all these prayers. And he was too embarrassed to say anything, let alone admit he couldn't read.
About 30 minutes later the priest came out of the confessional and was surprised to see that grandfather still in church, kneeling in front of the altar, and apparently still praying. Now, the priest knew it shouldn't take so long to say three Our Fathers, three Hail Mary's and three Glory Be's so, out of curiosity he drew closer to see if he could hear the grandfather's prayer. To his surprise and confusion, this is what he heard: "A B C D E F G... the entire alphabet to W X Y Z" and then the old man would start all over again, "A B C D..." After listening to this two times, the priest could not contain his curiosity so he tapped the grandfather on the shoulder and gently asked what he was doing. "Father, I am truly sorry," the old man explained, "But I forgot how to say my prayers. So instead, I thought I'd offer God all the letters of the alphabet many times and let him put the words together whatever way he wants."
My brothers and sisters in Christ, the prayer of that old man went straight to God's ears because it was spoken from the heart. It doesn't matter if we pray in Latin, Korean, English or Swahili, or use fancy sentences and correct grammar or even what words we use, as long as we too pray from the heart.
A Maryknoll missioner in Irian Jaya, which is in eastern Indonesia, made this observation about the people there, many of whom are not Catholic and who still practice native customs, what we might call "superstitions." After watching a fisherman prepare to lower his nets, the priest observed: "The pagan who prays to the wind is closer to God than the Christian who does not pray."
Do we really pray? By that I mean do we do more than simply recite prayers, whether it's the rosary, or Stations of the Cross, or even the Mass? Prayer is like having God's personal phone number. It's nice to have the contact information but if we don't stop and listen, how will we hear God's answer? It would be like speed dialing the same number over and over again then hanging up even before we hear God say hello? We would be spiritually stalking God. Yes, we need to say prayers, but above all we need to stop and listen in silence for God's answer in the deepest recesses of our heart.
It's interesting how in English the word "prayer" has two meanings. The common understanding is words spoken to God; but it also can refer to the one who prays. We are not only supposed to offer prayers, we are supposed to become prayers.
When our every waking moment is spent giving glory and thanks and praise to God, when we beg God's mercy and intercede on behalf of others, when we spend time with the Scriptures and listen with our hearts to God's voice, we become prayers and our life is God's answer.
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