Whenever I feel a bout of non-inspiration coming on, I go looking. Facebook is often a source for what I write, especially when I see things that indicate confusion. Today's offering over at the Catholic Standard (the Washington DC Archdiocesan paper) is one such piece.
Enjoy: Awaiting the Eucharist.
Showing posts with label Eucharist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eucharist. Show all posts
Friday, May 1, 2020
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Limping into Easter
This is the high season for Catholics, especially those church going rosary saying apologetics reading catholic blog groupies like me.
Except I am completely spent. Emotionally, spiritually, personally, I am tired.
I have had a crummy Lent. The irony stings. I wrote a column on Lent. I've tried adding things and taking away and I’ve forgotten and started again and forgotten and started again and deliberately ignored my resolutions and confessed and confessed and failed yet again. .
Trying to right the ship, I tried to lead a family rosary and we did it, if you don’t count the silent cold war between one child who refused to come in, and another who refused to come up from the basement after they’d screamed at each other. I felt defeated. How can I raise these people to be holy when I am not? How can I be responsible for these souls when I am flunking with my own?
It occurred to me that I don’t envy the Pope trying to be responsible for the souls of the whole Church, trying to lead all of us to the heart of Christ. We are an unruly lot of surliness...like my children on occasion.
Yet all of it can turn in an instant, from the clamor of a fight to the grace of unexpected extraordinary generosity. We keep trying and sometimes, we can approximate the love we are called to give.
We have to lay hold of, the heart of Christ, and it is freely offered at every mass in the Eucharist. That is the great miracle of His love, that is Heart is ours for the taking, it is offered like a lover, for He is love. Take and eat. Be at peace. Be not afraid. Christ will fix everything we’ve broken if we let him.
We needed the Crucifixion, each of us needed Our God to suffer that that much …just for us because we are so messed up. We are so angry. We are so injured, we hold onto our wounds fearful of the Divine Physician’s healing touch. We want to hold onto our pain in our pride, and let it define us. We cannot give a perfect Lent, we cannot save ourselves. It is only in surrendering to God’s grace that we allow his Heart which as always beat for us, to enter.
Easter happened. Easter is happening. This is the great reality, that a great or crummy Lent, Christ accepts all our offerings, the crumpled resolutions that got forgotten and abandoned and the ones well kept, it is the hearts He desires. So to all who come to crowd the Easter mass, offer your heart, He will give you His, and all the weariness and wounds of this world will be washed away. He will heal all of our lameness, world and self inflicted.
Have a blessed Easter.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
When We See
This past weekend I flew down to Texas.
It was for a baptism, meeting a future sister-in-law and seeing my mom and my dad who suffers from Alzheimer's and cannot say all the things he thinks or know anymore all the things he once knew with startling ease.
We ate, we talked, we went to mass. We hugged, we did ordinary things like shopping for diet coke and jeans and making pot roast and folding laundry. We also tried to hang onto moments, to slow time. To freeze the frame when the baby smiled, to remember the words my father could get out and cram every moment with all the stories and thoughts and feelings that too infrequent visits allow to pile up.
It was a joyful luminous glorious sorrowful ordinary time.
At mass, I watched as my father followed my mother to receive. He bowed his head and took the Eucharist on the tongue. He then tried to follow his wife but the traffic to the cup was confusing and for a moment, he looked lost. Then my uncle steadied him by putting his hand on my dad's shoulder and he received the precious blood. I breathed out.
Meanwhile, my mother realized Dad was not behind her. She was about to look about when my brother gave her a reassuring touch of the shoulder to show all was well. My dad was returning.
As a Godparent, I (along with the Godfather)was in the second pew with my sister and her husband and their newly baptized daughter. It was an unfamiliar church for my Dad, but he turned and he stopped. He looked at my face. Out of the packed pews and confusion, he pointed and nodded his head with a slight smile. "I know you." the smile said.
In that moment, I flashed back to the first year I really knew how to swim. I'd had a tracheonmy for the first 8 years of my life and so at nine, swimming underwater was a wondrous new thing for me. I was at the YMCA pretending to be a dolphin or a seal or a mermaid. A man came swimming towards me and his face flowered into a smile. It was my dad. I had not recognized him, being lost in the wonder of being surrounded on all sides by water. When I did, I remember smiling back at him underwater in sudden recognition and then zooming upwards for a breath. Dad had been in the fog of his disease, but for a moment, saw me clearly. I was a mess for the rest of mass.
I was so grateful to see that moment, and all the moments before, the kindness of an Uncle, the comfort of a brother, the strength of a parish bursting with song and with children, the solid faith of my niece's family, the whole of it, all of it, that it was hard not to have my heart both burst with joy and weep.
Saying those vows, receiving, and being present, anticipating a wedding feast in July, it felt a bit like heaven , in that all of time collapsed in that full moment. Yes my dad is dying, but he is still with us. Yes I live far from a lot of the people I love, they are still with us, in this family, this Universal Church.
It was hard not to want to love endlessly in that moment, despite all the known and hidden crosses in that Parish, in my own, in our nation, in the whole world and the whole history of this fallen, broken confused world. For an instant, I understood how grace breaks through the fog of our hearts and even when we are lost in our own worlds, calls us to really see each other, and come out of the fake world where we cannot last long and into the real place where we can breathe easy.
On that day, we will be walking, and we will see Christ's face and He will smile at us. In that moment, when we recognize Him, our face will say, "I know you." too.
It was for a baptism, meeting a future sister-in-law and seeing my mom and my dad who suffers from Alzheimer's and cannot say all the things he thinks or know anymore all the things he once knew with startling ease.
We ate, we talked, we went to mass. We hugged, we did ordinary things like shopping for diet coke and jeans and making pot roast and folding laundry. We also tried to hang onto moments, to slow time. To freeze the frame when the baby smiled, to remember the words my father could get out and cram every moment with all the stories and thoughts and feelings that too infrequent visits allow to pile up.
It was a joyful luminous glorious sorrowful ordinary time.
At mass, I watched as my father followed my mother to receive. He bowed his head and took the Eucharist on the tongue. He then tried to follow his wife but the traffic to the cup was confusing and for a moment, he looked lost. Then my uncle steadied him by putting his hand on my dad's shoulder and he received the precious blood. I breathed out.
Meanwhile, my mother realized Dad was not behind her. She was about to look about when my brother gave her a reassuring touch of the shoulder to show all was well. My dad was returning.
As a Godparent, I (along with the Godfather)was in the second pew with my sister and her husband and their newly baptized daughter. It was an unfamiliar church for my Dad, but he turned and he stopped. He looked at my face. Out of the packed pews and confusion, he pointed and nodded his head with a slight smile. "I know you." the smile said.
In that moment, I flashed back to the first year I really knew how to swim. I'd had a tracheonmy for the first 8 years of my life and so at nine, swimming underwater was a wondrous new thing for me. I was at the YMCA pretending to be a dolphin or a seal or a mermaid. A man came swimming towards me and his face flowered into a smile. It was my dad. I had not recognized him, being lost in the wonder of being surrounded on all sides by water. When I did, I remember smiling back at him underwater in sudden recognition and then zooming upwards for a breath. Dad had been in the fog of his disease, but for a moment, saw me clearly. I was a mess for the rest of mass.
I was so grateful to see that moment, and all the moments before, the kindness of an Uncle, the comfort of a brother, the strength of a parish bursting with song and with children, the solid faith of my niece's family, the whole of it, all of it, that it was hard not to have my heart both burst with joy and weep.
Saying those vows, receiving, and being present, anticipating a wedding feast in July, it felt a bit like heaven , in that all of time collapsed in that full moment. Yes my dad is dying, but he is still with us. Yes I live far from a lot of the people I love, they are still with us, in this family, this Universal Church.
It was hard not to want to love endlessly in that moment, despite all the known and hidden crosses in that Parish, in my own, in our nation, in the whole world and the whole history of this fallen, broken confused world. For an instant, I understood how grace breaks through the fog of our hearts and even when we are lost in our own worlds, calls us to really see each other, and come out of the fake world where we cannot last long and into the real place where we can breathe easy.
On that day, we will be walking, and we will see Christ's face and He will smile at us. In that moment, when we recognize Him, our face will say, "I know you." too.
Monday, January 23, 2012
His 100%
It is a mother's fear, a mother's concern; that my son Paul is three and does not speak. He's social. He smiles. He says some things. He dumps oatmeal on his head if I'm not vigilant. He will open the drawers in the kitchen until I give in and give him a sippy cup with a drink. He says RRAAHHH! That's the animal sound for every animal from deer to dog to dinosaurs. He jumps up and down when the bus shows up and fist bumps when I say good job. He puts his hands together for grace and tries to make the sound of the cross. He howls along what sounds like a muddled Alleluia in church whenever there is music. There is so much he communicates, but it is all emotive, it is all a matter of reading his face and knowing his voice and intent. But the mother's fear remains, my son will not be seen as all that he is, or accepted.
This weekend I read a story about a boy with Down Syndrome in the U.K. who is seven and has been denied the ability to receive first communion, because he cannot speak and cannot sit or tolerate the length of a mass. Based on my reading of the articles and analysis, the refusal is based on the fact that he cannot communicate sufficient understanding of the nature of the Eucharist. That is a legitimate reason for denial, but the parents thought the church was being cruel. Having been on both sides of the door, as the teacher telling the parent, you child cannot do this, and now the mother who faces that possibility, I can see how perhaps the mother thought that, and how perhaps the priest thought otherwise.
I understood that mother. My brain says, "I know that hurt." I also know that theologically, it is correct to not give communion to someone who is insufficiently capable of comprehending the nature of Holy Communion, if they cannot or have not in the past indicated the ability to know.
It smarts and smarts and smarts and smarts to hear a door shut on one's child, whether it is because they did not make the team, they weren't invited to a party, or they cannot participate more fully in the mass. Having a child with Down Syndrome means you have to anticipate that there will be shut doors. More accurately, having any child means you know there will be shut doors, but having a child with special needs means you are more acutely aware of some of the doors that might be shut. Will he go to college? Will he be able to live on his own? Will he need care the rest of his life? Will he be able to find a job? These things can wake you up in the middle of the night if you let it. Will he be able to receive the Eucharist? It is something I've wondered since I had him emergency baptized at two months.
So I get it. I hope hope hope that four years from now, my son can go through the preparations and receive. But I do not want him to receive incorrectly. I do want him to receive. I worry that I will let what I want, supersede my Catholic sensibilities. Being human, it is quite possible that the mother ache will override my brain should he be denied.
What gives me hope is this father and his son that come every Sunday to 8:30 am mass. The son is at least 18 and has severe autism, he does not receive, but he goes to mass. He stands and sits and kneels with his father. He is present, as present as his abilities allow. He even turns and shakes our hands. He wears headphones to drown out some of the noise if he gets stressed. Christ meets us half way, 3/4 of the way, 99% of the way. We are the 1 percent. He'll even give us .05. Christ will meet us wherever we are if we but try. For this son, coming and being at the mass, was his 100%. It was all he could give. This son and his father come. So Christ comes to him. Spiritual communion counts. I know this, and it gives me comfort. I may have to make my peace with this if when Paul is 8 or 9 or 16 or what have you, he still cannot reveal knowing that this food is not regular food.
So I pray for that mother and father and their son and the Parish, because I do not want any enmity between those who love the Eucharist. Hopefully, their son will mature to be able to receive fully, and if not, that they will come to understand, that this is their son's 100% and Christ will meet him there.
This weekend I read a story about a boy with Down Syndrome in the U.K. who is seven and has been denied the ability to receive first communion, because he cannot speak and cannot sit or tolerate the length of a mass. Based on my reading of the articles and analysis, the refusal is based on the fact that he cannot communicate sufficient understanding of the nature of the Eucharist. That is a legitimate reason for denial, but the parents thought the church was being cruel. Having been on both sides of the door, as the teacher telling the parent, you child cannot do this, and now the mother who faces that possibility, I can see how perhaps the mother thought that, and how perhaps the priest thought otherwise.
I understood that mother. My brain says, "I know that hurt." I also know that theologically, it is correct to not give communion to someone who is insufficiently capable of comprehending the nature of Holy Communion, if they cannot or have not in the past indicated the ability to know.
It smarts and smarts and smarts and smarts to hear a door shut on one's child, whether it is because they did not make the team, they weren't invited to a party, or they cannot participate more fully in the mass. Having a child with Down Syndrome means you have to anticipate that there will be shut doors. More accurately, having any child means you know there will be shut doors, but having a child with special needs means you are more acutely aware of some of the doors that might be shut. Will he go to college? Will he be able to live on his own? Will he need care the rest of his life? Will he be able to find a job? These things can wake you up in the middle of the night if you let it. Will he be able to receive the Eucharist? It is something I've wondered since I had him emergency baptized at two months.
So I get it. I hope hope hope that four years from now, my son can go through the preparations and receive. But I do not want him to receive incorrectly. I do want him to receive. I worry that I will let what I want, supersede my Catholic sensibilities. Being human, it is quite possible that the mother ache will override my brain should he be denied.
What gives me hope is this father and his son that come every Sunday to 8:30 am mass. The son is at least 18 and has severe autism, he does not receive, but he goes to mass. He stands and sits and kneels with his father. He is present, as present as his abilities allow. He even turns and shakes our hands. He wears headphones to drown out some of the noise if he gets stressed. Christ meets us half way, 3/4 of the way, 99% of the way. We are the 1 percent. He'll even give us .05. Christ will meet us wherever we are if we but try. For this son, coming and being at the mass, was his 100%. It was all he could give. This son and his father come. So Christ comes to him. Spiritual communion counts. I know this, and it gives me comfort. I may have to make my peace with this if when Paul is 8 or 9 or 16 or what have you, he still cannot reveal knowing that this food is not regular food.
So I pray for that mother and father and their son and the Parish, because I do not want any enmity between those who love the Eucharist. Hopefully, their son will mature to be able to receive fully, and if not, that they will come to understand, that this is their son's 100% and Christ will meet him there.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Seven Takes Friday
1.
First, hello to all the new people who have decided to follow my blog. Leave a comment, introduce yourselves. I hope my stories, rantings, ravings and musings bring you a smile, if not an outright laugh. 2.
This Lent, I've been focusing on my personal Gritch.(My personification of the original sin version of me). Some days it's easy. Some days, it's not.One of the things Lent does is call us not simply to reform/repent, but to begin to consider what it is that brings us to the point of making the wrong choices; if you think of sin as the alcohol, think of the sinner as the addicted soul who deliberately choses to drive to the bar in the first place. I'm trying to work on not getting into the car to go somewhere away from God in the first place.
"Lead us not into temptation," isn't simply a plea for God to rearrange our world so we never struggle, it's also a request for the grace to deliberately embrace obedience; to NOT lead ourselves to those places we fail most often.
3.
I have lost my keys. It is now day five. Given the last post, this might be God's way of assisting me, but I live in perpetual fear that I'm going to go out somewhere, lose the half a set I have now and wind up with a vehicle that can go nowhere and the kids in the back saying, "We need a snack." If you have good connections with Saint Anthony of Padua, please petition him. I have but I also pester the poor man daily for kids shoes, time, inspiration, patience and any number of things that I find I have in short supply.4.
Yesterday, I tried to impose the 7 to 7 rule about going on the internet. I didn't make it. I checked three times for emails but didn't look at any news sites I normally haunt; and the thing was, by 6:45, I was jonesing for a break and I could hear the words, "Could I not stay." with the kids who were chattering and playing and asking to help make the birthday cake. We made the cake. Two kids wrapped the presents. My oldest daughter decorated. Then we took a break and it was 7:30; the kids were watching shows and I went to the computer. After ten minutes, I was bored and went back to being with people. So we'll try it again today; but I've already messed up because I started writing and it's now 8:16 and I do have to do some writing work for a grant so I won't be able to be computer free; so it feels like I've driven to the bar but I'll just order a diet coke.
5.
Printing up the grant so I can make the edits in pencil so I will keep to my promise as much as possible. I'll just drive to the place but I won't go in; yeah. I'll bring my diet coke with me so I won't be thirsty.6.
New York State is thinking of banning salt; granted it would be for restaurants and bakeries but this sort of ruling has unintended consequences. To anyone who cooks or bakes, they understand that salt is necessary. Such a ban would eliminate almost every baked good there is in existence except for the Eucharist. Hey wait.7.
My daughter felt very proud of her gift to her brother for his birthday. It was fun, it was inexpensive and she thought of it herself. Water balloons. I may have to institute a pre-approved and no-fly list for birthday gifts in the future. Oy.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Jesus Said Both
It began at Notre Dame. The Observer refused to publish an article by law professor, Dr. Charles Rice. He has written a regular column for the student paper entitled, "Right or Wrong" since 1992. The piece not run addressed the recent protests of University anti-discrimination policy because it did not include sexual orientation as one of the groups granted protection. Dr. Rice laid out the reasons why a Catholic university could not engage in such behavior, as it would be recognizing formally through policy, sinful behavior as a legitimate lifestyle choice. (His article is linked in the title).
He quoted cannon law in making the distinction that the inclination to homosexual activity was not in and of it self, a sin, but the actionable behavior was. Dr. Rice further reminded the ostensibly Catholic readership that only in a sacramental union could sex find its proper moral context and thus bring the individuals in question closer to God. This is not popular or political opinion, it is Catholic teaching. The law professor put forth the radical notion that a university that professes to be Catholic should and in this case does practice its Catholicism in all of its actions and policies.
The Observer editor pretended it was about column space; a fact disputed by the Dr. by citing his prior 17 year history of articles that indicated this one was much shorter. I suspect in this scenario, the editor is young and fears the consequences of publically witnessing such an unpopular view; or that the editor is young and disagrees with the Church. In either case, publically shaming the paper and the editor by bringing down the righteous wrath of the blogosphere probably won’t persuade him to consider the Church’s position more favorably. Winning the case might still lose the jury and we want to make a compelling argument to all who would hear it.
Looking at the article itself, I felt frustrated; the public pressure on Notre Dame to change its policies is not small and many who still love the University and what she is supposed to stand for worry that political correctness and public mood will sway those who draft policy to do the publically safe and easy thing. Those who hold the Church and her teachings dear knew the essence of the Canon law before it was cited by Rice. Those who think the Church is wrong and should change will not find the citing of the law a compelling argument against their position. Right now, to move hearts, to get people to listen, we need poetry. Citing Canon law might move a heart set against it but it is not the most effective weapon in this fight. How would we win those who felt it was right to censure Dr. Rice because they thought his thinking backwards, wrong and indicative of a prurient obsession with sex and homophobia?
The Pharisees could cite law, but Jesus taught the essence of the law using parables. Jesus told stories to move the hearts of those uncertain, strengthen the resolve of those who silently agreed but were fearful, and reprove those who willfully ignored or denied the essence of truth that gave birth to the many laws. He did not stone the adulterer, he did not condemn her, but he did say, "Go and sin no more." and that still matters as much as the "Judge not" part. Jesus said both. But I could see, everyone thinks the other side is the Pharasiee citing the law and holding the rocks; those citing Canon law and those citing the recent decisions in various states to have same sex marriages were both citing authorities to prove their case.
These days, it's possible to envision a different story unfolding.
A group of outraged citizens indignant at a proselytizer for living a counter-cultural lifestyle and even publically proclaiming it to be true, declare him to be a homophobe promoting hate speech. They seize the offensive person who says such outlandish and outrageous things and bring him to the magistrate for judgment.
The trial is more of a formality really, as the various accusers who can prove the man said what he said and wrote what he wrote are already excoriating the defendant via twitters and blogs all over the internet. They'll expose his family to shame as a warning to others who engage in such behavior or believe such things and these viral scarlet letters will never be expunged. Society needs protection from people like him, and public virtual shredding seems as good a way as any to ensure justice is done as determined by the individual angry hearts in question. They will be satisfied.
A group of equally irritated righteous citizens lambast a University for failing to censure its students. Their frustrations at seeing an instution they love perpetually stumble and seem lost in popular culture allows them to feel fully vindicated in seeing this senario as proof that the school has lost it's way and failed to hold true to the Church's teachings. They cease donating, they call for resignations. They prepare to encourage others via the internet.
"Let Him who believes in God, not throw stones." is the verdict and all the bloggers hit send.
What is this about?
Let us consider why Catholicism holds that a man with a man and a woman with a woman and a man with a woman sans the sacrament are not equal to a sacramental union.
Catholicism can’t say all relationships are equal just because it is politically correct to do so. Catholicism is at its core about relationship, about Communion, about the Eucharist. We do not say it is only a symbol because the Eucharist is Christ present. We do not allow others to partake because they do not acknowledge this relationship or understand it to be authentic and true. They do not hold this great mystery to be real. Catholicism claims to be Truth, Universal Truth. Within that Truth is mercy, forgiveness, compassion, wisdom, and peace; and all of these are found through fidelity of the heart as rendered through service, obedience and love. We cannot say it is just bread or a symbol to make it more appealing or compelling or inclusive; the fact that it is not just bread or a symbol is WHY the Eucharist is compelling.
Just so, a Catholic University cannot morally shrug its shoulders and pretend that a non sacramental union regardless of orientation is the same as one consecrated just because popular sentiment would be appeased. A lay person is not the same as a priest; a single woman is not the same as a nun. A chaste relationship is not the same as an unchaste one. Simply put, Catholicism does not acknowledge truth as a relative concept, as being simply in the eye of the beholder. It does not accept the lie that all sexual behavior between consenting adults is equal and that God doesn’t care about such trivial animal matters amongst private individuals because God cares about every private individual and all of their relationships, thoughts, dreams and actions.
Catholicism holds to the radical notion that God cares about each of our souls individually, that each of us is the 100th sheep lost that needs to be found; that each of us is called to be in Communion with Christ. So we can't say we will support a sin with our policies, deliberately sanctioning a value we know places a soul at risk. This is why this little matter between a professor and an editor is not so little; because the discussion needs to be had and right now, the atmosphere is so thick with the possibility of outrage, righteous and otherwise, that nothing can be heard and no hearts can be moved. We need to understand, but it is hard to bear the truth in our broken state; it is too hard even knowing our God is all loving. The landscape of the moral argument right now is not well known to the vast majority of Catholics and most of us are untrained for engaging in this discussion.
We will need Notre Dame to not simply hold to its values, but to be Catholic in all things, luminous and true, forgiving and instructive so that the Church body as a whole can have the Why's of the Canon law, rather than simply the Canon law itself. We need the "Allness" of the Eucharist to be revealed in this discussion, even though to some, it is obvious. And we will all need to remember that each of us, is that 100th sheep, that adulterer caught by others in the act of sin, and the accuser poised with the stone; that we are everyone in every parable but the Good Shepherd, the Father of the Prodigal son, the owner of the vineyard who pays everyone with more generosity than they merit; those people in the story are God revealed in his love for us, and those people are who we are called to be.
So in response to the controversy, perhaps the best we can do is to say "Neither do I condemn you." and "Go and sin no more." Bread and divinity, the Eucharist response is both.
He quoted cannon law in making the distinction that the inclination to homosexual activity was not in and of it self, a sin, but the actionable behavior was. Dr. Rice further reminded the ostensibly Catholic readership that only in a sacramental union could sex find its proper moral context and thus bring the individuals in question closer to God. This is not popular or political opinion, it is Catholic teaching. The law professor put forth the radical notion that a university that professes to be Catholic should and in this case does practice its Catholicism in all of its actions and policies.
The Observer editor pretended it was about column space; a fact disputed by the Dr. by citing his prior 17 year history of articles that indicated this one was much shorter. I suspect in this scenario, the editor is young and fears the consequences of publically witnessing such an unpopular view; or that the editor is young and disagrees with the Church. In either case, publically shaming the paper and the editor by bringing down the righteous wrath of the blogosphere probably won’t persuade him to consider the Church’s position more favorably. Winning the case might still lose the jury and we want to make a compelling argument to all who would hear it.
Looking at the article itself, I felt frustrated; the public pressure on Notre Dame to change its policies is not small and many who still love the University and what she is supposed to stand for worry that political correctness and public mood will sway those who draft policy to do the publically safe and easy thing. Those who hold the Church and her teachings dear knew the essence of the Canon law before it was cited by Rice. Those who think the Church is wrong and should change will not find the citing of the law a compelling argument against their position. Right now, to move hearts, to get people to listen, we need poetry. Citing Canon law might move a heart set against it but it is not the most effective weapon in this fight. How would we win those who felt it was right to censure Dr. Rice because they thought his thinking backwards, wrong and indicative of a prurient obsession with sex and homophobia?
The Pharisees could cite law, but Jesus taught the essence of the law using parables. Jesus told stories to move the hearts of those uncertain, strengthen the resolve of those who silently agreed but were fearful, and reprove those who willfully ignored or denied the essence of truth that gave birth to the many laws. He did not stone the adulterer, he did not condemn her, but he did say, "Go and sin no more." and that still matters as much as the "Judge not" part. Jesus said both. But I could see, everyone thinks the other side is the Pharasiee citing the law and holding the rocks; those citing Canon law and those citing the recent decisions in various states to have same sex marriages were both citing authorities to prove their case.
These days, it's possible to envision a different story unfolding.
A group of outraged citizens indignant at a proselytizer for living a counter-cultural lifestyle and even publically proclaiming it to be true, declare him to be a homophobe promoting hate speech. They seize the offensive person who says such outlandish and outrageous things and bring him to the magistrate for judgment.
The trial is more of a formality really, as the various accusers who can prove the man said what he said and wrote what he wrote are already excoriating the defendant via twitters and blogs all over the internet. They'll expose his family to shame as a warning to others who engage in such behavior or believe such things and these viral scarlet letters will never be expunged. Society needs protection from people like him, and public virtual shredding seems as good a way as any to ensure justice is done as determined by the individual angry hearts in question. They will be satisfied.
A group of equally irritated righteous citizens lambast a University for failing to censure its students. Their frustrations at seeing an instution they love perpetually stumble and seem lost in popular culture allows them to feel fully vindicated in seeing this senario as proof that the school has lost it's way and failed to hold true to the Church's teachings. They cease donating, they call for resignations. They prepare to encourage others via the internet.
"Let Him who believes in God, not throw stones." is the verdict and all the bloggers hit send.
What is this about?
Let us consider why Catholicism holds that a man with a man and a woman with a woman and a man with a woman sans the sacrament are not equal to a sacramental union.
Catholicism can’t say all relationships are equal just because it is politically correct to do so. Catholicism is at its core about relationship, about Communion, about the Eucharist. We do not say it is only a symbol because the Eucharist is Christ present. We do not allow others to partake because they do not acknowledge this relationship or understand it to be authentic and true. They do not hold this great mystery to be real. Catholicism claims to be Truth, Universal Truth. Within that Truth is mercy, forgiveness, compassion, wisdom, and peace; and all of these are found through fidelity of the heart as rendered through service, obedience and love. We cannot say it is just bread or a symbol to make it more appealing or compelling or inclusive; the fact that it is not just bread or a symbol is WHY the Eucharist is compelling.
Just so, a Catholic University cannot morally shrug its shoulders and pretend that a non sacramental union regardless of orientation is the same as one consecrated just because popular sentiment would be appeased. A lay person is not the same as a priest; a single woman is not the same as a nun. A chaste relationship is not the same as an unchaste one. Simply put, Catholicism does not acknowledge truth as a relative concept, as being simply in the eye of the beholder. It does not accept the lie that all sexual behavior between consenting adults is equal and that God doesn’t care about such trivial animal matters amongst private individuals because God cares about every private individual and all of their relationships, thoughts, dreams and actions.
Catholicism holds to the radical notion that God cares about each of our souls individually, that each of us is the 100th sheep lost that needs to be found; that each of us is called to be in Communion with Christ. So we can't say we will support a sin with our policies, deliberately sanctioning a value we know places a soul at risk. This is why this little matter between a professor and an editor is not so little; because the discussion needs to be had and right now, the atmosphere is so thick with the possibility of outrage, righteous and otherwise, that nothing can be heard and no hearts can be moved. We need to understand, but it is hard to bear the truth in our broken state; it is too hard even knowing our God is all loving. The landscape of the moral argument right now is not well known to the vast majority of Catholics and most of us are untrained for engaging in this discussion.
We will need Notre Dame to not simply hold to its values, but to be Catholic in all things, luminous and true, forgiving and instructive so that the Church body as a whole can have the Why's of the Canon law, rather than simply the Canon law itself. We need the "Allness" of the Eucharist to be revealed in this discussion, even though to some, it is obvious. And we will all need to remember that each of us, is that 100th sheep, that adulterer caught by others in the act of sin, and the accuser poised with the stone; that we are everyone in every parable but the Good Shepherd, the Father of the Prodigal son, the owner of the vineyard who pays everyone with more generosity than they merit; those people in the story are God revealed in his love for us, and those people are who we are called to be.
So in response to the controversy, perhaps the best we can do is to say "Neither do I condemn you." and "Go and sin no more." Bread and divinity, the Eucharist response is both.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
You Know it's a bad day at Mass when...
10) The usher tells you that he's been inspired and is going to call his mom when he gets home to thank her for putting up with him for all those years.
9) In describing what took place during the offeratory, you use the word "headlock" in a sentence.
8) Calories burned during mass via the trips to the bathroom equal or excede the value of a Dunkin' Donut's Boston Cream.
7) At the sign of peace, you get a lot of pity handshakes from fellow parishioners.
6) The woman behind you says, "Some day you'll miss this." and you think, "Not any time soon."
5) Kneelers. Toddlers. Echoes.
4) Going up the aisle for communion, a child wails, "When is it OVER?!"
3) The Eucharistic minister tells you, "There's only a drop." and you take the cup saying "Amen" and taking that drop because you need every bit of grace you can get.
2) You stare in wonder at all the well behaved children and have the eerie thought that the reason You get this battle is God knows this won't deter you from showing up next week.
1) Every one of these things actually took place within the span of one mass.
Follow-up: Why didn't you leave and come back later?
1) Three kids serving on the altar and
2) car was trapped by other cars illegally parked.
3) I did actually leave the main church three times in an attempt to regroup (during songs). Each time, it took for about all of five minutes.
Finally, when mass is over and you trudge to the parkinglot, you discover there is a black Acura parked in the firelane trapping you at the Church hall for the next hour with the bumper sticker "Chose Civility" on it's window.
Everyone here had to work to get to mass such that calling the police seems somehow anti the spirit of Lent. So the kids get to have doughnuts after all that while you wait for the parkinglot to clear and it seems that you should offer it up in sublimation because all of these little problems are merely a toe being poked into the sand of the 40 day dessert. All you can do is sigh and say man, sublimation sometimes just really really, well it doesn't stink but man does it have to be this hard?
And then unbidden, it hits you that in the end, when you see your self truly and acknowlege that you misbehaved this much in real life yourself; that in the end, God is nice enough to still let you have a doughnut when all is said and done.
9) In describing what took place during the offeratory, you use the word "headlock" in a sentence.
8) Calories burned during mass via the trips to the bathroom equal or excede the value of a Dunkin' Donut's Boston Cream.
7) At the sign of peace, you get a lot of pity handshakes from fellow parishioners.
6) The woman behind you says, "Some day you'll miss this." and you think, "Not any time soon."
5) Kneelers. Toddlers. Echoes.
4) Going up the aisle for communion, a child wails, "When is it OVER?!"
3) The Eucharistic minister tells you, "There's only a drop." and you take the cup saying "Amen" and taking that drop because you need every bit of grace you can get.
2) You stare in wonder at all the well behaved children and have the eerie thought that the reason You get this battle is God knows this won't deter you from showing up next week.
1) Every one of these things actually took place within the span of one mass.
Follow-up: Why didn't you leave and come back later?
1) Three kids serving on the altar and
2) car was trapped by other cars illegally parked.
3) I did actually leave the main church three times in an attempt to regroup (during songs). Each time, it took for about all of five minutes.
Finally, when mass is over and you trudge to the parkinglot, you discover there is a black Acura parked in the firelane trapping you at the Church hall for the next hour with the bumper sticker "Chose Civility" on it's window.
Everyone here had to work to get to mass such that calling the police seems somehow anti the spirit of Lent. So the kids get to have doughnuts after all that while you wait for the parkinglot to clear and it seems that you should offer it up in sublimation because all of these little problems are merely a toe being poked into the sand of the 40 day dessert. All you can do is sigh and say man, sublimation sometimes just really really, well it doesn't stink but man does it have to be this hard?
And then unbidden, it hits you that in the end, when you see your self truly and acknowlege that you misbehaved this much in real life yourself; that in the end, God is nice enough to still let you have a doughnut when all is said and done.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Where did My Inspiration Go...
Last week, I spent the bulk of my time editing.
My son had a project in English.
It was supposed to be a journal of his life and suffering. The premise was to imitate an author who wrote about his life and explained that suffering allowed him to see the world more clearly, to recognize how societal norms perpetuated pain and suffering. The kids were then supposed to look at their own lives for patterns to discern about the nature of reality.
The trouble is, he's fourteen and grew up in a reasonably normal home. He wasn't abused. He's never seen his parents fight where they threw things. He's never done drugs. He has friends. He's had academic and personal success already in his life, getting a scholarship and making honor role consistently in grammar school. We've never lost everything, had to sell his baseball card collection or had more than the emotional equivalent of a skinned knee in terms of life experience that might have traumatized him.
Unless you count the summer of Lyme disease, that rotted, but it was second grade. It's been a while. I think he's over it.
So the topics: The first time I tasted Alchohol, The first time I defied Authority, The First Time He Got in a Fight, the First Day of School, had a sing song element to them that made my son sound like Polly-Anna.
His great conflict to date? Refusing to eat refried beans served by his parents. This was his great suffering.
First day of School? Preschool memory of meeting the person who would become his best friend.
First taste of Alchohol --he made it up, since the teacher said "Receiving the Eucharist didn't count." I said, "Didn't count for what?"
Trying to pull something of depth out of a surface driven life that is essentially at this point unscathed and unscarred, we focused on his blessings. But I pointed out that if his premise was that only through suffering could one come to understand the true nature of the world, I should serve him beans daily.
He said I was full of beans.
My son had a project in English.
It was supposed to be a journal of his life and suffering. The premise was to imitate an author who wrote about his life and explained that suffering allowed him to see the world more clearly, to recognize how societal norms perpetuated pain and suffering. The kids were then supposed to look at their own lives for patterns to discern about the nature of reality.
The trouble is, he's fourteen and grew up in a reasonably normal home. He wasn't abused. He's never seen his parents fight where they threw things. He's never done drugs. He has friends. He's had academic and personal success already in his life, getting a scholarship and making honor role consistently in grammar school. We've never lost everything, had to sell his baseball card collection or had more than the emotional equivalent of a skinned knee in terms of life experience that might have traumatized him.
Unless you count the summer of Lyme disease, that rotted, but it was second grade. It's been a while. I think he's over it.
So the topics: The first time I tasted Alchohol, The first time I defied Authority, The First Time He Got in a Fight, the First Day of School, had a sing song element to them that made my son sound like Polly-Anna.
His great conflict to date? Refusing to eat refried beans served by his parents. This was his great suffering.
First day of School? Preschool memory of meeting the person who would become his best friend.
First taste of Alchohol --he made it up, since the teacher said "Receiving the Eucharist didn't count." I said, "Didn't count for what?"
Trying to pull something of depth out of a surface driven life that is essentially at this point unscathed and unscarred, we focused on his blessings. But I pointed out that if his premise was that only through suffering could one come to understand the true nature of the world, I should serve him beans daily.
He said I was full of beans.
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