Roman and Catholic

"I had to choose between being Roman and being Catholic; and I chose Catholic." So said Father Richard Rohr. I could not disagree more! Today we leave for Rome. In Rome, I hope to become more Catholic: more deeply baptized into Church history, ritual and belief; more closely united with St. Peter and Benedict his successor and the apostles and their successors. In Rome, I hope to become more catholic: open to and embrasive of the multiform splendor of all God's creation and all His people.

Why Are We Here?

In a recent note, Gil Baile offers this: "We are here to ready ourselves for our ineluctable entry into the infinite Trinitarian drama of selfless love, which is our destiny. (Long sentence warning) To aid in that preparation, we have been placed in the midst of a family and society not of our own making and choosing, and in an utterly fascinating and materially challenging world, which provides the beauty and blessings, the hardships and responsibilities, by which the latent and sin-crippled capacity for self-donating love might sufficiently develop that we experience our posthumous encounter with the Trinitarian mystery, not as a hellish annihilation of our habitual self-centeredness, but rather as the fulfillment of a deeper longing which, in this life, we habitually refract into a kaleidoscope of personal aspirations, worldly desires, and fleeting fascinations." The dominant concept here is "preparation." We are readying ourselves for something infinitely greater!

Saintly Cowards and Holy Families

Today's "Saint of Today and Yesterday" is the Korean martyr St. Catharine Yi whose daughter, Saint Magdalene Cho, was also a martyr as well as a consecrated virgin. Yesterday's was St. Ignatius Kim, another martyr, whose son St. Andrew Kim was likewise martyred. The first theme that emerges here, and throughout the stories of the saints, is that holiness runs in families. And so, I pause to pray for myself and my family, and families, including all my in-law connections: Come Holy Spirit, make us holy, all of us! I am particularly heartened by these two saints, however, because their weakness is so obvious. Catharine at first vigorously resisted her daughter's call to virginity and was won over after many years. More pertinent for me, however, is Ignatius. Under torture in prison, his courage weakened and he apostasized. Subsequently, he was encouraged by his fellow Christians to renew his faith. He did so and was subsequently tortured and died in a heroic and holy manner. Now this is a saint I can emulate as I have long considered myself a "coward in recovery." My tolerance for pain is very low. What I see in Ignatius, however, is that he was strengthened by the faith, patience, love, hope and pardon of the community, of the Church. And so, in my own weakness, I place my trust in my Savior and the grace he gives me in the Church. Come Holy Spirit, inspire those of us who are cowardly with the gift of courage! Saints Ignatius and Catharine, Magdalene and Andrew, pray for us!

Hermit

A number of fascinating themes prevail in the lives of the minor saints, as described daily in the meditative journal Magnificat. Among these is the prevalence, in the ancient Church of the fourth to the thirteenth century, of the hermit-to-bishop pattern: a penitent sets off into the wilderness to seek conversion and holiness; he becomes a holy man after years of prayer and fasting; and he becomes an influential and saintly bishop. In the daily readings, this intinerary repeats itself every few days. It seems to have been the "ordinary" manner in which God guided and blessed His Church. What does this have to do with us today? The most pertinent point, for me, is that my daily "hermitage" is the key to my day and my life: my time spent alone with God...early in the morning, at mass, walking and praying the rosary, visiting the Blessed Sacrament, shared prayer with my family and friends. Everything else...everything!!!...all my engagements, tasks and relationships...everything!!!...flows out of this primal friendship. On the macro-social level, we see a contrast of this hermit-model of the episcopacy with that of the CEO-bishop of today, who is responsible for a complex network of institutions (universities, hospitals, schools, parishes, and other) valued in the billions of dollars. I wonder if we have not become over-institutionalized! I wonder if Ivan Illich was right years ago when he advocated the simplification, de-bureaucratization and impoverishment of the Church! I wonder if Obama is not doing the Lord's work (albeit without a conscious clue) in his oppressive contraception-sterilization mandate in forcing the eventual de-institutionalization of the Church! Maybe the bishops, the Church and each of us will be better off with a return to simplicity and poverty: a return to the hermitage!

Emulating the Bridegroom

With a typically fine performance by Sally Fields, the movie "Not Without My Daughter" portrays the actual story of an American woman, married to an Iranian doctor, who travels to that country after the Khomeni revolution in the 1980s and becomes hostage to her husband and his family. The husband is a fascinating study: he is sophisticated, educated and a most tender, sensitive husband and father. But re-connected with his Islamist family, he reverts to his fundamentalist roots and becomes violently oppressive. I asked myself: Is it credible that such an intelligent and decent person could become so tyrannical? I answer in the positive: because of the mimetic dynamics at work. Re-submerged in the intense climate of Islamist pressures, he is incapable of resistance. I think this is true of most of us: in a different place, with distinct friends, influences and pressures, we can take on an entirely new identity. We are what we imitate; we become what we look at; inherently and essentially we are echoes, icons, resonances and reflections of what we gaze at with admiration. In the film, the husband is a large, strong man so that when he beats his petite wife, it becomes especially brutal. I contrast this with St. Paul's exhortation: Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the Church by giving his body for her! Or, I think of a third alternative: the husband as indifferent, irresponsible, preoccupied, and inattentive to his bride. May we Catholic men, all of us, attend with exquisite care and vigilance to our precious, beautiful women and to the Great Bridegroom who has modeled for us the pathway of gentle, vigorous manly self-giving!

Viva Cristo Rey!

Would that every Catholic over the age of reason in the USA in 2012 could see the remarkable film For Greater Glory! The movie narrates, apparently with reasonable historic accuracy, the heroism of the Cristeros and martyrs (some now beatified and canonized) who resisted the brutal suppression of religious freedom by the Mexican Calles government in the 1920s. Perhaps most poignant is the father-son-type love between the agnostic-but-militant-in-defense-of-freedom general of the resistance, Enrique Gorostiesta, (played unusually well by now-seasoned Andy Garcia)and the the young martyr, now Blessed Jose Luiz Sanchez del Rio, who is tortured but refuses to mouth the words "Death to Christ the King." Particularly despicable is the spectacle of his godfather, an influential and accomadationist mayor, who exhorts him to apostasy and stands by while he is tortured. A little research unveiled facts more shocking than the drama portrayed by the movie. It appears that the actual torture/murder of the young martyr was witnessed by two childhood friends, one of them being the notorious Father Marcial Maciel, founder of the Legionnaires of Christ who died in the disgrace of sex abuse. But it gets even worse: Maciel was nephew of a now-canonized bishop, Saint Rafael Guizar Velencia, who supported the Cristeros, was known as "bishop of the poor," and died in hiding. His body was found to be incorrupt 12 years after his death, except for his left eye which he had offered on behalf of a sinner. It appears that this saint died of a heart attack, shortly after giving his 18-year-old nephew Marcial a severe reprimand for complaints from neighbors about the noise he made in his home with students in his religion classes. Seminary directors at the time are reported to have blamed his death on his nephew's behavior. The chiarascoro here of heroism, holiness and profound evil could hardly be more shocking! Returning, however, to the film and the political reality of USA 2012: Perhaps our bishops could require this of all communicating Catholics? Could viewing of this epic replace Sunday mass obligation sometime in October? Could we have general penance services in which all Catholic who have voted Democrat in a national election would be required, as penance, to view this film? Might we, with God's grace,today emulate the strength, courage, fidelity and holiness of these Cristero heroes and martyrs?

Reviving Catholic Anarchism

The Catholic Anarchism of Dorthy Day and Peter Maurin is looking better and better every day, so dispiriting is this campaign season. The deepest tragedy is that a party that represents a clear, direct, absolute attack on values at the heart of our Catholic faith continues to elicit the loyalty of about 50% of Catholics. The alternative, the Republican Party, is itself a disappointment. While it is defensive of innocent life, the natural family and religious liberty, it is itself enamored of individualism, the corporate market place, and American exceptionalism and blind to Catholic values related to solidarity with the poor and our fundamental communal nature as persons. As the left idolizes the State and the right does the same for the impersonal global market, the micro-communal anarchism of Day-Maurin becomes very refreshing. As I become more cynical about the State and the Market, about the Left and the Right, about an American culture that is late-Protestant and deeply if unconsciously anti-Catholic, I cling more passionately and tenderly to my Christ who comes to me in sacrament, family and the poor who are close to me. Dorothy and Peter: Pray for us!

Dorothy Day: Political Role Model for Liberal Catholics?

In its typical ignorance of Catholic life, the NY Times recently identified Dorothy Day as a role model for liberal Catholics who vote for Obama in their concern for the needs of the poor and social justice. This does a deep injustice to Dorothy Day. A radical anarchist (albeit a Christian one), she had deeper suspicion of big government, even 80 years ago, than the most zealous tea party advocate of today. She never voted; did not pay taxes; pretty much did not comply with the State. In the realm of sexual morals she became a staunch conservative, strongly disapproving, for example, the decision of a protege to leave the Catholic Church in order to remarry after a divorce. It is unthinkable that she would have voted for a regime intent on imposing the sexual revolution on the young and unborn. She received communion daily, confessed weekly, avidly read the lives and writings of the saints, and was a loyal, obedient daughter of the Church. It is inconceivable that she would support the Obama regime in its cultural offensive against the Church's active role on behalf of the least. Nevertheless, unintentionally, the Times may have a point in seeing her as a role model: precisely in her refusal to vote. Dorothy Day would no more have voted for the Romney-Ryan ticket than for the Party of abortion, sexual license and religious oppression. This is the honorable option for a conscientious liberal Catholic who is loyal to her Catholicism as well as her liberalism. It is entirely understandable that such a voter must reject the Rand-like individualism and mega-capitalism of the Republican Party as incompatible with Catholic social thinking. So the decision to boycott this election is an entirely honorable one, even for one who is not so radically anarchistic as Dorothy was. It would send a message to the Democrats that they cannot take the Catholic vote for granted as they treat Catholic values with contempt; it will alert the Republicans that Catholic support for their party applies to the moral-cultural values but is critical of the endorsement of individualism and mega-capitalism and an inadequate concern for the poor. Dorothy Day, pray for us, especially for those of us who are liberal and Catholic!

Passion

The Latin root of our word passion, "passio," means to suffer, to receive, to be acted upon or afflicted. We think, of course, of The Passion of our Lord, the epitome of torment and affliction. Our more common use of the term refers to intense affection, longing or desire. Here again, however, the root meaning of reception or passivity is prominent: we suffer or are afflicted with passion and desire, it happens to us rather than coming from our will. In both cases then, that of suffering and that of desire, the key is passivity or reception. For instance, we "fall in love" but do not "jump into love" in that it happens to us involuntarily, almost like an accident, as if we walk into a manhole because we are not looking where we are going. In this sense, we can see that existence itself, existence as a creature, a finite, non-necessary being, is also passion: we do not initiate, choose or opt for our existence. We are "thrust into" life: involuntarily. We can, of course, assent to our existence, or not: but the initiative is beyond ourselves. Likewise, we do not determine our own identity, constitution, place in time and history: all of this is given to us, suffered by us, afflicted upon us...our genetics, family, social class, range of abilities and disabilities and so forth. That we exist is passion...and who, where, what, and how we exist is also all passion, reception as gift and/or affliction. In an even profounder way existence is passion in that we are always in desire: we are always longing for something even when we are unable to define the object of our desire. When we are able to define our desire (this goal, that person), we eventually find that obtaining that object does not quench the desire, as it re-emerges in in a new restlessness, a new emptiness, a new longing. And so we see that existence as a man or woman is always desire or passion, desire or passion that is finally insatiable, desire or passion that is infinite. That is to say, our desire is for God, the infinite, the absolute, the all-wonderful. This is where the whole thing becomes deliriously delightful: when we learn that God, who is without lack or need or limitation, is Himself passionate for us. The Passion of His Son revealed this to us: that suffering or affliction was not an end in itself, but a gesture indicative of a far, far, far grander Passion: His, or Their (the Three), passion for us. He came among us, at the will of the Father in the power of the Holy Spirit, to bring us into Their life. So we see, as Father Philippe instructs us, that suffering is not a stopping point, but a passage way. We do not abide in suffering, we abide in love. We abide in desire...our desire for God...and His, Their, infinitely greater desire for us.

Off By Himself

"He took him off by himself, away from the crowd." Jesus (in Mark 7), before healing the deaf and dumb man, takes him away by himself. Jesus is alone with the mute; the mute is alone with Jesus. Thornton Wilder observed that the child needs the undivided attention of his mother, for a short period of time. But then, after "attention has been paid," he returns to his childhood world, of play and fantasy, where the mother is not needed or wanted. So it is with each of us: like the mute in the gospel and the child with his mother, each of us needs that one-on-one with God, that solitude, that precious, calming, healing intimacy. Then we return to our endeavors, refreshed and energized. And by analogy, we need that short, one-on-one immediacy and attentiveness with our spouse or lover, child or parent, friend, boss and subordinate. Take me away by yourself, Lord. Heal me. Restore my health and strength and return me to my community and my endeavors!

We Are Blind to Evil

A shocking aspect of the priest sex scandal is that decent, intelligent, even holy authorities have been hoodwinked by the deceit of the predators. Father John Hardon S.J., a man known for his sanctity and erudition, assured the Jesuit superiors that a serial pedophile was not a threat to innocents; Dr. Rick Fitzgibbons MD, a widely respected, solidly Catholic psychiatrist, assured the bishop that another predator was safe; even Pope John Paul the Great underestimated the depth and breath of the scandal and was deceived by the cunning Father Maciel of the Legionnaires. We are exhorted by scripture to be "wise as serpents but innocent as doves." It appears that these three icons of fidelity and innocence, and so many others, failed to be "wise as serpents" and to be adequately vigilant against evil. In the political sphere we will soon see that 50%, more or less, of Catholics in the USA will vote for a party unambiguously committed to the legalized destruction of innocent human life, the deconstruction of marriage and family, and the suppression of religious liberty in the public sphere. On the right wing, even an intelligent, wholesome, committed Catholic like Paul Ryan appears to have been seduced by the radical individualism of Ayn Rand, to be incapable of an accurate critique of the consequences of unrestrained mega-capitalism, and to lack a profound identification with the poor and marginalized. I have been puzzled by the gospel in which Jesus, after preaching in Nazareth and favorably impressing the people, provokes them, in a seemingly gratuitous manner, taunting them that it was not an Israelite that Elisha healed but Naaman the Syrian and not a Jew that Elisha fed but the widow of Zarapheth. I now realize that Jesus was not impressed by their approval, but read their hearts and consciously evoked their rage. The best of us seem to lack this sensitivity to evil. And each of us is blind to our own sin: the first words out of Adam's mouth after his sin were "She made me do it!" Fortunately, we Catholics are blessed with the sacrament of confession where we systematically and regularly exam ourselves for our own sins, begging the Holy Spirit to remove our inherent blindness, enlighten us, and move us to contrition. Lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil!

The Nativity of Our Blessed Mother

This morning, a precious feast day of our Lady, I had the good fortune to ponder pages in D.C. Schindler's magisterial "The Dramatic Structure of Truth" on Baltasar's understanding of the mother's smile, the "super-positive" glance/movement of love which awakens the love/joy/consciousness of the infant. It is my view that the mother's love is the most powerful created, earthly love, surpassing in intensity even that of the father or of spouses/lovers. However, he notes that were the mother/infant love isolated unto itself, the mother would smother the infant as she would not be able to "allow" this little beloved her own space, identity and destiny. What opens this passionate love to a horizon of freedom is another love: that of the husband. Since the mother is loved as bride, wife, companion her self, she is free to allow the little one to be herself. And so we see that the awakened love of the infant flows from the bi-polar love of father-and-mother. Yesterday I watched my two grandsons while their father took her mother to the hospital for a procedure. I was happy to watch them; but I was more delighted about something else. I was able to assist in that their father was freed up from their care to attend to his wife. Their mother received the affection and attention she needs and deserves. Because of this, her love for them will be freeing and strengthening, rather than controlling and smothering. After we played a messy water game in the kitchen and were cleaning up, I mentioned that we would tell mommy that we made a mess but then cleaned it up. Four-year old Luke corrected me: "No, not mommy. We have to tell daddy. Daddy is the boss of the messes; mommy is the boss of the hittings." He already recognizes a pluralism in the home, a division of powers (like our federal government): daddy disciplines about messes, mommy about fights. In this home there is no monolithic, totalitarianism of the mother or the father, but a diversity, a wholesome pluralism, a communal difference in love, much like the Trinity.

A Passionate Hatred

If we are to love, let us love intensely; and if we are to hate, let us hate passionately. I am proud that I myself hate with such passion: hate not a person, but a thing, an institution: The Democratic Party. As I write this, that party prepares for the Obama speech and the conclusion of their convention. I haven't watched a minute of it. I cannot. It would make me sick. I am not a cradle Republican. I was born and raised a Democrat. The party came with my mother's milk and my father's provision. And so, when the Party betrayed the Church, in the 1970s, I took it very personally. Think Michael Corleone and his brother Fredo. I don't hate Democrats; I love them. Everyone I work with in Jersey City is a Democrat; so are my mother and (most of) my sisters; so are almost all of my college buddies. I am quite good at distinguishing the person (whom I love) from the party and the political ideology. My love for the person is saddened by their allegiance. But I can only repeat: "They know not what they do." And with the years my contempt and fury at the Party grows deeper, stronger, more sober and clear. On my deathbed my admonition to my children and their children will be to love, tenderly and intensely, our family, our Church and our God. But it will also be to hate and defeat our enemy, The Democratic Party.

The Faith of Others: An Agnostic's Testimony

"Even though I didn't believe in God, I liked that my husband did. It made me feel safe..." Recalls Colleen Oakley in "An Agnostic's Guide to Marriage," this past Sunday's (Sept. 2, 2012) Modern Love essay in the NY Times. She was surprised at his insistence on including the Lord's Prayer in their wedding ceremony; and doubly surprised that she took comfort in his quiet, inarticulate faith: "...my husband's unobtrusive believe in a higher power was surprisingly attractive. He believed that an omniscient being watches over us, that when we die we would be together with each other in an otherworldly place, and that praying for people was an important part of caring for them. He didn't go to Church, he didn't read the Bible every night (I had actually never seen him with one in hand)and he didn't feel the need to force his opinions on anyone else. He was Christian-lite: just enough for me to respect, and more important, to live with." Some years later, just before the birth of their first child, she is again surprised by her husband and her own reaction: He remarks over pancakes that he no longer believes in God and probably never really did; she quietly agrees with his conclusion but inside is disturbed and grieved by a loss. A few months later, she finds herself suggesting that they look into churches in order to provide a spiritual base for their child. The husband resists but defers on the condition that "in our family we should always be honest with him about our beliefs." Contemplating those words, she concludes: "Our beliefs. Our family. Suddenly I didn't feel so alone, after all." Her's is a rich testimony, a witness to faith, although it is the nay-saying faith of an agnostic. First of all, she acknowledges the attractiveness of a quiet, steady, and gentle faith. Second, she emphasizes how comforting the faith of others can be, especially where we ourselves are skeptical, suspicious and uncertain. Thirdly, she chronicles the unhappy trajectory of "Christian-Lite" in that faith is like a muscle or a talent: use it or lose it. If we handle the Bible, go to Church and talk about our faith, it will become strong; if we do not, it will atrophy and disappear. Lastly, she concludes in a note of comfort and happiness, realizing that she is not alone as she is part of a family and a family that shares beliefs. Dear Colleen (I always loved that name): you are part of a much greater family than you realize, and also, in seed and by desire, a faith grander than you can even imagine!

Reverence

"Deepen our sense of reverence" we pray in the mass collect today. Reverence is: awe and wonder before that which is immensely good, worthy, precious, and valuable; surpassing joy mixed with humility; deeply quiet and peaceful receptivity that, expanding the intellect, heart and soul, moves into adoration and self-donation. Reverence is the constitutive posture of a creature before the Creator and His creation. It is the heart of every religion. For a Christian, reverence finds its concrete focus in the person of Jesus, born, active, crucified, risen to glory, and now present to us as Lord and Savior of all of creation. It is also the form or essence of the two commingled dimensions of human life: family and marriage. Primarily, reverence is always filial: awestruck and grateful before mother and father, elders, family, ancestors, authority, tradition and all that is received as gift. All traditional religions are founded upon reverence. In that sense, modernity, understood as autonomous, controlling technocracy has the interior soul or form of anti-reverence. The second domain constituted by reverence is the love between man and woman, within marriage quintessentially and beyond. As a man, I reverence the woman in front of me precisely in her femininity, as different from me: as virginal, bridal, maternal; as lovely, delicate, powerful, wise, delightful, and worthy in a way that fascinates, awes, attracts and humbles me, in my own masculinity, with its own informing strengths and weaknesses. Contemporary feminism, egalitarianism, and sexual liberation all spring from a failure of reverence. Deepen our sense of reverence, O Lord!

A Catholic Soap Opera:Sensationally Erotic and Agapic, Theodramatic, Communally Liberational, Pnuematically Sacramental, and Romantically Mystical

This melodrama looks into the lives of Catholics in a modest but enlivened suburban parish. Blessed with a series of gifted, holy pastors and a variety of renewal movements, these folks are passionate about their faith: everyone seems to be going to bible study groups, prayer meetings, adoration, confession, retreats and pilgrimages. But all of this piety does nothing to dampen the fires of eros, which are burning contagiously, in all their enflamed, random, spontaneous, chaotic polyformity. Everywhere there is the agony and ecstacy of sexual passion: the young priest in love with the older divorcee he is counseling; the happily married tennis coach infatuated with his star player; the bright, homosexual adolescent in love with his literature teacher; the promiscuous college student; the professor-internet-porn-addict; the two couples, stalwart parishioners and friends of many years, who discover that they have mutually fallen out of love with their own and in love with each others' spouses; the super-competent school principal who is frigid with fear of tenderness; the parish council president whose homophobia, misogyny and ideological rancor veils his own masculine insecurity and desperation for paternal tenderness. The list goes on. But the key protagonist in all of this is Father Joseph Luigi Karol. Approaching retirement age, Father Joseph radiates an extraordinary holiness: gentle, confident, humorous, intelligent, and madly joyous. With doctorates in clinical psychology and theology (expert in the nuptial mysticism of John of the Cross), he had left the academy many years ago to minister to the broken hearts, minds and souls of the penitentiary and the insane asylum. (Sidebar: casting for the role of Father Joseph is the key to the entire production. This role demands a seasoned, older actor: think vintage Alec Guiness, Paul Newman, or an older and wiser Jeremy Irons, a Daniel Day Lewis, an Anthony Hopkins or a sanctified Al Pacino.) He himself is under a cloud of shame as he had been "outed" by the media as the longtime confessor of a notorious pedophile priest. Not known to the public is the degree to which, operating under the seal of the sacrament, he had lessened the damage inflicted, even finding discrete ways to protect and heal the victims. Additionally, the maverick priest is under the disapproving gaze of the chancery where anxious, suspicious bureaucrats are unnerved by the joyously free-spirited holy man. But most important for the drama: Father Joseph has an extraordinary gift: an inerrant sense for the ennobling, sacrosanct seed that is the heart of every human desire and longing. Intuitively and effortlessly, Father Joseph cherishes, protects and guides each specific human love in all its fragility, vulnerability, delicacy and disguised nobility. And so, regardless of the immorality, illegality, or even perversity of the erotic longing, Father Joseph does not condemn, scold, prohibit or dictate. Quite the opposite, he presses the desire deeper: he pushes it forward, recklessly, unveiling its profundity. He enables the Lover to move fearlessly towards the Beloved, allowing that desire to open to its truest identity as the longing for God.