A Critique of Criticism

Accepting and growing from criticism and complaints

01/29/2018

2 Samuel 16:5-13 As David was approaching Bahurim, a man named Shimei, the son of Gera of the same clan as Saul's family,was coming out of the place, cursing as he came. He threw stones at David and at all the king's officers, even though all the soldiers, including the royal guard, were on David's right and on his left. Shimei was saying as he cursed: "Away, away, you murderous and wicked man! The LORD has requited you for all the bloodshed in the family of Saul, in whose stead you became king, and the LORD has given over the kingdom to your son Absalom. And now you suffer ruin because you are a murderer." Abishai, son of Zeruiah, said to the king: "Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king? Let me go over, please, and lop off his head." But the king replied: "What business is it of mine or of yours, sons of Zeruiah, that he curses? Suppose the LORD has told him to curse David; who then will dare to say, 'Why are you doing this?'" Then the king said to Abishai and to all his servants: "If my own son, who came forth from my loins, is seeking my life, how much more might this Benjaminite do so? Let him alone and let him curse, for the LORD has told him to. Perhaps the LORD will look upon my affliction and make it up to me with benefits for the curses he is uttering this day." David and his men continued on the road, while Shimei kept abreast of them on the hillside, all the while cursing and throwing stones and dirt as he went.

            One of the hardest things to handle well is criticism, when someone criticizes us or complains about something we’ve done. Most people tend to shy away from conflict and controversy, and I’m one of them. My only criticism or complaint is, “Why can’t we all just get along?” which is really a criticism of criticism. But Bishop Taylor has helped me see that sometimes (not always) criticism can be a sign of effective pastoral ministry, that you’re doing a good job as a pastor. I love that old maxim, “the sign of a good sermon is that it comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable.” If we haven’t afflicted the comfortable then we haven’t learned how criticism is a critical component of Christianity.

            Recently, I’ve delved deeply into the teaching called the “theology of the body” by Pope Saint John Paul II. In one sense, he wrote it as a criticism of the great German philosopher, Immanuel Kant. Kant himself wrote a book in 1787 called Critique of Pure Reason, one of the most influential books in the history of philosophy, and it still shapes much of the modern mentality. Kant didn’t criticize a person but rather principles, what we can know and what we cannot know. My point is not to take sides in that controversy (but clearly John Paul was correct!) but simply to say that criticism can be a healthy part of growing and maturing as humans and as humanity. Bishop Taylor is right: developing a critical eye is key to Christianity.

             King David is dealing with his own critics in 2 Samuel 16. As he’s approaching the town of Bahurim, a man named Shimei comes out not only to criticize the king but cursing him and even throwing stones and dirt at him. Shimei gave a good sermon that day because he was definitely afflicting the comfortable king and his retinue. But David’s reaction is both holy and humble, and very instructive for us. While his military officers could easily have dispatched Shimei’s head – and very much wanted to – David rather replies: “Suppose the Lord has told him to curse David; who then will dare to say, ‘Why are you doing this?’” David understood the necessary role that criticism plays in the development of people and personalities. He didn’t cave into the common lament: why can’t we all just get along? David had learned to turn a critical eye toward criticism itself, and he saw its value.

            Let me draw out just two practical conclusions from this critique of criticism. First, create healthy habits of criticizing yourself. At the end of each day conduct a brief examination of conscience and reflect on what you could have done better (that’s a nice way of saying your sins). Our conscience can be our best critic, if we give it time and listen to its counsel. When someone criticizes you or corrects you, refrain from becoming defensive or giving reasons justifying your actions. Rather, listen humbly like King David and think, “Suppose the Lord has told this person to correct me?” Receive others’ criticism as if Jesus were correcting you.

            Second, be gentle in your criticism or complaints of others. It’s good to call a spade a spade, that is, to be honest and straight-forward. But maybe you could tell someone their spade is a really pretty spade. You don’t have to use a sledgehammer when you afflict the comfortable; you could use a small ball peen hammer instead. We must hate the sin while loving the sinner. Criticize with compassion.

           It is often said that the Church is “ecclesia semper reformanda,” meaning the Church is always in need of reform and deepening her discipleship. Not only do we turn a critical eye to correct the weaknesses of the world, but we must also welcome the world to criticize us, properly speaking. Criticism can be a good thing, because sometimes, we can’t all just get along.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Mankind’s Essential Illness

Learning the true meaning of authority and power

01/28/2018

Mark 1:21-28 Then they came to Capernaum, and on the sabbath Jesus entered the synagogue and taught. The people were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes. In their synagogue was a man with an unclean spirit; he cried out, "What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God!" Jesus rebuked him and said, "Quiet! Come out of him!" The unclean spirit convulsed him and with a loud cry came out of him. All were amazed and asked one another, "What is this? A new teaching with authority. He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him." His fame spread everywhere throughout the whole region of Galilee.

            I’ll never forget a novel I read in high school that was as chilling as it was challenging. It was called Lord of the Flies, written by William Golding in 1954. The basic plot is that an airplane carrying a group of pre-adolescent boys crash-lands on a deserted island and their struggle for survival turns into a search for the true meaning of authority and power. The boys divide into two rival camps, one led by Ralph, who is reasonable and prudent, and the second by Jack who is rash and passionate. Being pre-teens and very impressionable, they begin to believe the island is haunted by a mythical creature they call the “Beast” and they start to have nightmares about it. Reasonable Ralph tries to calm everyone down by denying it exists, but jealous Jack plays into their fears by exaggerating the stories and dreams.

            Jack and his followers part company with Ralph and spend their time hunting wild pigs and painting their faces, giving in to their animal instincts. Gradually, Jack’s lust for power grows so strong that he wants all authority on the island. He persuades Ralph’s followers to abandon him and join Jack’s bunch and they agree to hunt down and kill Ralph.

             At the very heart of the story, a small boy named Simon has an imaginary conversation with the decapitated head of a wild pig stuck on a pike surrounded by buzzing flies, whom he calls the “Lord of the Flies.” The razorback – the razorback – helps Simon understand that the real beast lurks not in the jungle but in the heart of each boy. In an assembly of all the boys, Simon tries to articular this idea, but he’s terrified of public speaking. Golding writes: “’Maybe,’ Simon said hesitantly, ‘Maybe there is a beast…What I mean is…maybe it’s only us.’ Simon went on, ‘We could sort of…’ Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind’s essential illness” (Lord of the Flies, 69). But Lord Acton, the 19th century British politician, very ably articulated mankind’s essential illness when he famously remarked: “Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” which is exactly what happened to Jack. In other words, true power and authority does not consist in killing those around you – like Jack judged – but rather in killing the beast within you – your passions and vices – like Ralph realized.

             Jesus’ listeners are also witnessing a struggle for power and trying to understand the true nature of authority. Jesus displays real power by casting out an unclean spirit. But did you notice what the unclean spirit said when Jesus turned his attention to him? He cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” The unclean spirit – indeed the entire world of evil – only knows one kind of power and authority, namely, Jack’s kind: the power to kill others, so the unclean spirit asked, “have you come to destroy us?” But there is another kind of power in the universe, namely, God’s kind: a power wielded not to destroy but to create, not to condemn but to show compassion and mercy. The only thing God’s power seeks to destroy is selfishness, the Beast within, “mankind’s essential illness.”

             Do you know what those boys needed on that island? They needed a good Catholic school, with some holy nuns and priests to instill a little fear of God and a lot of fear of them. Dostoyevsky, the insightful Russian novelist, argued: “If God does not exist, everything is possible” (The Brothers Karamazov, Part 4, Bk. 11, Ch. 4). Everything was possible on the island because there was no Catholic school to teach those boys that God exists. Anyone who’s attended Catholic schools reminisces on those days with pleasure and even pride. I was a St. Theresa Cougar before I became a Catholic High Rocket and finally a University of Dallas Crusader. The nuns, priests and lay teachers who taught us may have been strict at times, but they were trying to teach us the lesson of self-mastery. The first step on the long journey to true authority and power is to rule and govern yourself; before you can discipline others you must learn self-discipline.

           Let me share a few humorous memories of my Catholic school days. In fourth grade at St. Theresa, one nun told a student that if he didn’t sit still in his chair and not keep getting up, she would tie him to his chair with a jump-rope. Five minutes later that’s exactly what she did. Our principal at Catholic High School gave us a sex education talk in ninth grade. The only piece of advice he gave that I remember was he said French-kissing a girl was like using someone else’s toothbrush. And that sealed the deal on my path to priesthood. One day in August the temperature was close to one hundred degrees, and there was no air-conditioning at Catholic High. Instead of letting us go home early, our principal put a large sign on his door asking, “You think it’s hot here?” signed, “God.” By the way, there were actually two rooms that were nicely cooled, the chapel and the library. How do you get seven hundred snot-nosed boys to become saints and scholars? You air-condition the chapel and the library and make the rest of the school hot as hell.

          I’ll never forget Fr. Tribou’s definition of a man. He taught us that “a man is he who controls the animal within which he lives.” That’s what the “Lord of the Flies” – the decapitated Razorback – was trying to teach Simon and the other boys on the island: control the animal within which you live or you will become one. True power and authority is not the ability to kill someone else; it’s the ability to kill your own selfishness. That’s what Catholic schools teach because that is “mankind’s essential illness.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!

High Horse

Encountering Christ and changing our lives

01/25/2018

Acts of the Apostles 22:3-16 Paul addressed the people in these words: "On that journey as I drew near to Damascus, about noon a great light from the sky suddenly shone around me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?' I replied, 'Who are you, sir?' And he said to me, 'I am Jesus the Nazorean whom you are persecuting.' My companions saw the light but did not hear the voice of the one who spoke to me. I asked, 'What shall I do, sir?' The Lord answered me, 'Get up and go into Damascus, and there you will be told about everything appointed for you to do.'  Since I could see nothing because of the brightness of that light, I was led by hand by my companions and entered Damascus. "A certain Ananias, a devout observer of the law, and highly spoken of by all the Jews who lived there, came to me and stood there and said, 'Saul, my brother, regain your sight.' And at that very moment I regained my sight and saw him. Then he said, 'The God of our ancestors designated you to know his will, to see the Righteous One, and to hear the sound of his voice; for you will be his witness before all to what you have seen and heard. Now, why delay? Get up and have yourself baptized and your sins washed away, calling upon his name."

              One of the most dramatic depictions of the conversion of St. Paul was painted by Caravaggio, the great Italian Baroque artist in 1601. It hangs in the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome. I hope someday you will get to see it and study it, but mostly that you’ll get to pray in its presence. Caravaggio has profound lessons to teach us not only about what happened to St. Paul on the road to Damascus but what happens to us on our own road of life.

             Let me highlight just three striking features of this masterpiece. First, the background is completely dark – even though St. Paul said the event occurred when the sun was at its zenith, at noon. This black background is called “tenebroso” which in Italian means “dark, gloomy, mysterious.” But the darkness also means a lack of landscape, and therefore a loss of orientation – no sky or earth, up or down, east or west: a sort of “suspended animation,” a stepping out of the rhythm of time. Second, St. Paul has fallen off his horse - he got knocked off his high horse - and he has hit the ground and he’s on his back, but his arms are straight up and his knees are bent. It looks like he’s still falling even though he’s clearly hit the ground, an odd combination. Again, St. Paul is experiencing a disjointedness with his surroundings. And third – this is humorous – the largest figure in the painting is a horse, and it’s the horse’s rear end that dominates the scene. And the groom – the one who takes care of the horse – pays more attention to the frightened animal than the future apostle.

             Did you ever watch that old Batman television series with Adam West? Whenever it was a scene with bad guys, the camera angle was tilted. The director was using his artistic medium of video to convey that something is wrong here. This is not normal. The world is awry with the presence of evil. That’s the point of Caravaggio’s painting of the Conversion of St. Paul – not all is right in Paul’s world, his world is awry with his sins when the light of Jesus bursts in.

             There are actually three separate accounts of the conversion story of St. Paul in the Acts of the Apostles, in chapters nine, twenty-two and twenty-six. But in each account the story is dramatic and decisive in Paul’s life. Three things result from this miraculous moment, this personal encounter with Christ. First Paul, needs the help of others. Because he is blinded by the light, he must be led by the hand to Ananias, a spiritual guide, who gives Paul a new orientation. Second, he must be baptized and have his sins washed away. And third, he must share his story with the world. In other words, when Jesus breaks into Paul’s life, it’s not just a great, joyful experience, after which he can go back to business as usual. Rather, Jesus takes Paul out of the “tenebroso,” the dark, gloomy, and mysterious, the lack of landscape because of his sinfulness, and places Paul in a new landscape, the landscape of love. Paul’s world is no longer awry, it’s not tilted and off center; he’s not on the road to Damascus to persecute the Church, but on the road to his true destiny to proclaim the Church.

              What road do you find yourself on these days? Does your world feel “tenebroso” – dark, gloomy and mysterious? Is there a lack of landscape, where you feel disoriented and can’t tell what’s up and down, which way is east and west? Do you sometimes feel like a horse’s rear end? We all feel that way at one time or another and we need a profound encounter with Christ; we need Jesus to knock us off our high horse. Just like there are multiple accounts of Paul’s conversion in Acts, so we usually need multiple experiences of conversion to Christ before we’re fully changed from frightened animals to fearless apostles. When that encounter happens, follow Paul’s example and do what he did: seek a spiritual guide, have your sins washed away, and share your story with the world. Then, maybe you won’t feel so much like a horse’s rear end.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Hearing Aids

Finding assistance to hear the word of God and bear fruit

01/24/2018

Mark 4:1-20 Jesus said to them, "Do you not understand this parable? Then how will you understand any of the parables? The sower sows the word. These are the ones on the path where the word is sown. As soon as they hear, Satan comes at once and takes away the word sown in them. And these are the ones sown on rocky ground who, when they hear the word, receive it at once with joy. But they have no roots; they last only for a time. Then when tribulation or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. Those sown among thorns are another sort. They are the people who hear the word, but worldly anxiety, the lure of riches, and the craving for other things intrude and choke the word,  and it bears no fruit. But those sown on rich soil are the ones who hear the word and accept it and bear fruit thirty and sixty and a hundredfold."

             Some people only have to hear something once and they remember it forever. I had a friend in grade school with a memory like a steal trap. He didn’t even need to open his textbook. He would simply sit and listen attentively to the teacher and everything he heard he remembered. I hated that guy, because I had to listen very carefully, take copious notes in class, study daily, and stay up late at night before the test just to make a B in class. And he always made A’s. Man, I hated that guy.

              Most people are not like my grade school friend, because we need lots of help to retain and remember what we hear. Abraham Lincoln used to read the daily newspaper out loud, which really annoyed his law partner, Billy Herndon. But Lincoln explained that reading out loud helped him absorb what he read through his eyes as well as his ears, and he remembered better. My father taught me how to remember which months of the year have thirty one days and which have thirty or twenty nine days. It’s called the classic “knuckle mnemonic.” Make your hands into a fist and put them together, where  the forefinger and thumb are against each other. Then, starting from the left, count every knuckle and gap, and each one stands for a month. The knuckles are the months with thirty one days and the gaps are the ones with less than thirty one days. Even though we hear every month how many days there are, we often cannot remember them. My point is that most people’s hearing is sort of impaired and we need “hearing aids,” “mnemonic devices.” We hear lots of things in the course of a day and in the course of our lives but we retain and remember very little of it without a lot of help.

              Jesus tells a powerful parable about hearing in Mark chapter 4. By the way, parables (short stories) are easy to remember and that’s the best way to teach. Jesus is the Master Teacher. A sower sows seeds on different soils and surfaces. Some receive the seed and give growth, while other surfaces choke and kill the seed. What makes the difference between one type of soil and another? Jesus explains further that the seed is really God’s word that many people hear – like his audience that day, but also you and me – but not all can retain and remember those words. It’s when you remember that you reap the rewards. Not many people are like my grade school friend, who only had to hear a word once and he would always remember it. Most people need “hearing aids.”

             Do you know who has mastered the art of having “hearing aids” to hear and remember the Word of God, especially in the Bible? It’s our Protestant brothers and sisters. In their Bible study classes they practice “sword drills.” The Letter to the Hebrews says, “The Word of God is a two-edged sword.” Imagine God’s Word like a “spiritual sword.” So, the teacher says a particular verse, and all the students race through their Bible to find that particular passage first.  They choose a “life verse” – one verse of Scripture that they memorize - which will define and direct their life.  Our hearing is seriously impaired in spiritual matters (like when we read the Scriptures), so we need “spiritual hearing aids” like sword drills and life verses so we will be good soil that receives the seed and produces much fruit.  It’s the one who remembers that reaps the rewards.

             The time in our life when we are the best soil for the seed of God’s word is when we’re twelve years old. That may surprise you, so let me give you three reasons why that’s true. First, St. Francis de Sales, the great sixteenth century spiritual director, said that a man or woman knows God is calling them to be a priest or a nun is twelve years old. They can hear God’s word like very rich soil and it produces fruit in their life. Second, can you recall what age Jesus was when he stayed behind in the Temple and taught the scribes and rabbis? Luke 2:42 notes that Jesus was twelve years old. The boy Messiah was especially astute to the suggestions of the Holy Spirit, like rich soil ready to receive the seed. And third, what happens when you turn thirteen years old? Hormones happen. And from then on, your mind and your heart will be cluttered with contradictory motives and emotions vying for victory in your decisions.

             In other words, the soil of your soul will never be as rich and the accuracy of your hearing will never be as sharp as when you are twelve years old. After that age, you will need many hearing aids to remember the Word of God, and for it to bear fruit in your life. For those of you who are older than twelve, try to remember what you heard in that precious age of your life. That’s when you were the richest soil, and it’s the one who remembers who reaps the rewards.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

House Divided

Becoming a force for unity rather than division

01/22/2018

Mark 3:22-30 The scribes who had come from Jerusalem said of Jesus, "He is possessed by Beelzebul," and "By the prince of demons he drives out demons." Summoning them, he began to speak to them in parables, "How can Satan drive out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself,  that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand;  that is the end of him. But no one can enter a strong man's house to plunder his property  unless he first ties up the strong man. Then he can plunder his house.  Amen, I say to you, all sins and all blasphemies that people utter will be forgiven them. But whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin." For they had said, "He has an unclean spirit."

           One of the most famous speeches Abraham Lincoln ever delivered occurred before he was the sixteenth president of the United States. He was running against Stephen Douglas for the Illinois senate seat, and spoke about the danger of a “house divided” on the issue of slavery. He said: “A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure, permanently, half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved – I do not expect the house to fall – but I do expect it will cease to be divided.” Lincoln explained further: “It will become all one thing or all the other” (“House Divided” speech, June 16, 1858). Every student of history knows it took a lot of bickering, battles and blood-shed for the United States not to be a house divided on the issue of slavery.

           But unfortunately we still remain a house divided on any number of other important issues like the definition of marriage, the approach to immigration, and above all on the protection of unborn children, the question of legalized abortion. These fundamental issues do not admit of a legitimate plurality of opinions – where you can believe what you want and I can believe what I want, we cannot simply “agree to disagree” – but rather, they tug at the very fabric of our society. Lincoln was right when he predicted with regard to these rights that the United States “will become all one thing or all the other.”

          Abraham Lincoln borrowed that image of a “house divided” from Jesus in the gospel of Mark. There, the Jewish scribes accuse Jesus of driving out demons by using stronger demonic powers, namely, the strength of Beelzebul, “the prince of demons.” Jesus explains why that’s not possible, answering: “How can Satan drive out Satan? If a house is divided against itself that house will not be able to stand.” Jesus insists like Lincoln did that every sound and solid structure – be it a house, or a nation, or a family, or a church, or even Satan’s armies – must be united on certain basic goods and goals. Otherwise, it will fall. “It will become all one thing or all the other.”

            We constantly face threats to unity all around us: in our homes and families, in our workplaces, and sadly sometimes even in our churches. Jesus and Lincoln’s warning that a house divided cannot stand is as relevant today as it was in their day. May I suggest three things you can do to heal divisions rather than cause them?

             First of all, pray for those you disagree with. Every January 22, the Church calls for a “Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children.” We certainly need to pray for an end to abortion. But I recommend we also pray for all those who fight for abortion rights, that God will bless them and guide them, not that he will curse them and punish them. Whenever I pray for someone I begin to see them through God’s eyes rather than my own eyes, and it’s a little easier to love them.

              Second, try to understand your opponent’s point of view and why they feel so strongly about their side of the debate. By the way, you don’t really understand someone else’s point of view until you can put it into your own words. St. Thomas Aquinas, in his masterful Summa Theologica (summary of theology) always listed his opponent’s top three arguments before he gave his own point of view, his “Respondeo” (I answer that...).  To be able to articulate your opponent’s points better than they can is incredibly disarming. Instead of deteriorating into a shouting match, your dialogue becomes a common search for the truth.

            And third, admit our own guilt in causing the house to be divided in the first place. A priest once told me that one culprit that caused the women’s liberation movement to be born was that men didn’t treat women with greater respect. If the women’s liberation movement has gone too far in some respects, men shoulder at least some share of the fault. It’s no use complaining about too much “political correctness.”

              A house divided cannot stand, and it doesn’t matter whose house we’re talking about. Be a force for unity rather than a cause for division, so that we will not need more bickering and battle and bloodshed to avoid being a house divided.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

The Eternal Conversation

Being the topic of discussion between Father and Son

01/21/2018

Mark 1:14-20 After John had been arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God: "This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel." As he passed by the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting their nets into the sea; they were fishermen. Jesus said to them, "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." Then they abandoned their nets and followed him. He walked along a little farther and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. They too were in a boat mending their nets. Then he called them. So they left their father Zebedee in the boat along with the hired men and followed him.

            It is generally known that the famed author Jane Austen never recorded a dialogue between two men in a room by themselves. Since she never personally witnessed such a conversation first-hand, she couldn’t imagine what on earth two men would talk about. It’s probably nothing at all; two men can just sit and not say a word. But she might also ask Randy Travis. In his hit song, “For Ever and Ever, Amen,” Randy Travis explains what men will always be talking about: “As long as old men sit and talk about the weather, as long as old women sit and talk about old men.”

             But Jane might also wonder, what the subject of conversation could be when it’s not two men, but the two Persons of the Holy Trinity talking, namely, the Father and the Son. What could the Father and the Son be talking about forever in heaven? Surely, it can’t be the weather. The Father says: “Hey, it’s 70 degrees and sunshine, again!” Jesus replies: “Wow, I never saw that coming!” Pope Francis wrote about this eternal conversation in the heart of the Holy Trinity in his first major encyclical called “The Light of Faith,” saying, “God speaks about himself, for he is an eternal dialogue of communion, and he allows us to enter into this dialogue” (Lumen fidei, 36). Did you catch that last part? That is, not only is God talking about himself to himself, but he is also talking about us. Jane Austen might be surprised to learn that the Father and the Son are talking about her!

         Have you ever enjoyed a conversation so much that you wish would never end? A dialogue of such openness, trust and joy that you almost forgot your surroundings and were transported to another time and place? I’ll never forget St. Augustine’s description of the sublime conversation he shared with St. Monica, his mother overlooking the sea at Ostia, on the coast of Italy. Their dialogue took them to the heights of heaven, where they heard the hidden eternal conversation of the Father and the son, but then suddenly descend back to earth because it was too glorious for them. Augustine regrets: “Then with a sigh…we returned to the sound of our own tongue, where the spoken word had both a beginning and an end. But what is like to thy Word, our Lord, who remaineth in himself without becoming old, and ‘makes all things new’?” (Confessions, Bk. IX, Ch. 10). But I am convinced that when Augustine and Monica eavesdropped on that heavenly conversation, they also heard the Father and the Son talking about them! The subject matter of that eternal conversation inside God is definitely about God, but it is also decidedly about you and me.

              The gospel of Mark is the shortest of the four gospels – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – because it contains only sixteen chapters. Nevertheless, it is not short on inspiration and invitations to enter into the divine dialogue. Jesus calls his first apostles, two sets of brothers, Simon and Andrew, James and John. The surprising thing is how immediately and completely they abandon their former life and unreservedly follow Jesus. But I believe something more is going on than meets the eyes, or even meets the ears! St. Thomas Aquinas taught that because Jesus is God, he beheld the Beatific Vision – that is, God himself – from the moment of his conception in the Blessed Virgin Mary (Summa Theologica, Part III, Q. 7, Art. 3). Jesus saw God with his mind’s eye. But that also means Jesus never left that eternal conversation with the Father in heaven: Jesus also heard God with his mind’s ear. Therefore, when Simon and Andrew, James and John hear Jesus speak to them, they are swept up into that same sublime conversation as Augustine and Monica were, and they hear God talking about them. They are transported to another time and place, namely, heaven, and there it’s very easy to leave everything and follow Jesus. Pay attention every time Jesus speaks in the Scriptures, his audience not only hears his voice, they also hear a distant echo of that eternal conversation in heaven, and they are deeply moved.

          Thanks to our faith – which comes from hearing St. Paul said in Romans 10:17 – we can make an educated guess about the content of that eternal conversation, paraphrasing Jane Austen, “what are the Father and the Son talking about?” I believe they have at least three topics of conversation. First, God talks about how much he loves us. Augustine and Monica, Simon and Andrew, James and John all heard the words from heaven uttered at Jesus’ baptism as if they were directed at them: you are my beloved son (beloved daughter), in whom I am well pleased. In other words, God says “I love you.” Second, God speaks about how he wants us to be happy. Not just happy on earth, but ultimately and eternally happy in heaven. And third, God speaks about the cross we must carry if we want to make it to heaven. St. John says that on the cross Jesus’ glory was revealed (cf. John 17). Archbishop Fulton Sheen eloquently said, “There can be no Easter Sunday resurrection, without a Good Friday crucifixion.” We cannot enjoy the glory of God without carrying the cross of Christ. That’s what we hear when we are swept up into the eternal conversation between the Father and the Son: love, happiness and a cross.

           At every Mass, you and I get to eavesdrop on that eternal conversation between the Father and the Son, too. You may have noticed at Mass that sometimes the priest addresses the people but at other times he addresses God. The priest plays the part of Jesus speaking with the Father. That always reminds me of that old joke about the priest who couldn’t get his wireless microphone to work. He says under his breath: “This dang mic won’t work!” And the people all respond, “And with your spirit.” That’s about our level of participation in the eternal conversation.

Praised be Jesus Christ!

Bless Not Bind

Bestowing names upon others but respecting their freedom

01/19/2018

Mark 3:13-19 Jesus went up the mountain and summoned those whom he wanted and they came to him. He appointed Twelve, whom he also named Apostles, that they might be with him and he might send them forth to preach  and to have authority to drive out demons: He appointed the Twelve: Simon, whom he named Peter;  James, son of Zebedee, and John the brother of James, whom he named Boanerges, that is, sons of thunder; Andrew, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son of Alphaeus; Thaddeus, Simon the Cananean, and Judas Iscariot who betrayed him.

            When you bestow a name upon someone – like a baby when it’s born, for instance – you bless them but you do not bind them. That reminds me of that joke about the new Catholic convert. A Baptist man moved into a neighborhood of all Catholics. It was Lent and a Friday, and the Baptist decided to grill a juicy steak for dinner. The neighboring Catholics caught the smell and were sorely tempted. This happened Friday after Friday, so the Catholics had to do something. They eventually convinced the man to become Catholic and took him to St. Mary’s. The priest sprinkled some water over him and said, “You were born a Baptist, you were raised a Baptist, but now you are a Catholic.”  Everyone went home happy. The next year when Lent rolled around again the smell of steaks on the grill again filled the neighborhood on Friday. The men rushed out to see the former Baptist standing over his steak with some water saying, “You were born a cow, you were raised a cow, but now you are a fish.” I know a few cradle Catholics who’ve tried that blessing before a meal in Lent. Just because we change someone’s name – from “Baptist Bob” to “Catholic Carl” – doesn’t mean we can control their behavior, even if sometimes we’d like to. Changing a name blesses another person, it does not bind them.

             This is no different for Jesus. In some rare and significant times, Jesus bestows new names on people. In the gospel of Mark, he calls his closest disciples by the new name of “apostles,” which means “sent.” Jesus will send them into the world. Disciple means “learner,” but apostle means “teacher.” But Jesus also gives special names to specific apostles, when he wants to bless them even more. So, he changes “Simon’s” name to “Peter,” which means “rock,” because Jesus will build his Church on Peter the rock, and not on sand. But does that name change bind the apostles and Peter in such a way that they can no longer sin or abuse their freedom? Clearly not. We all remember very well how all the apostles abandon Jesus at the Cross (except John), and one of them, Judas Iscariot, betrays our Lord. And what about Peter, the so-called “rock”? Well, the rock crumbled in the courtyard of Caiaphas, when a slave girl asked him if he just knew Jesus. It’s as easy to make a mere man into an apostle as it is to change a cow into a fish. Bestowing a name blesses but it does not bind.

            This lesson about nomenclature has some surprising and maybe unpleasant applications for us today. Think about occasions when your name was changed or you bestowed a name upon someone else. We sometimes mistakenly believe we bind them to behave a certainly way, and not just bless them. Parents give their children names and rightly expect certain behavior. But when those children get older and move out of the home, some parents continue to expect they can bind their children to certain behavior, but they cannot. Bestowing a name blesses, but it does not bind. When a man is ordained as a priest, he is called “Father.” That is a profound name change, and carries the weight of the faith of so many people. We expect priests to behave according to high standards, and they should! But sometimes we priests don’t, because bestowing a name only blesses that individual, it does not bind them (even if he is a priest). The same is true in marriage. Married people’s names sometimes change. And we may mistakenly think that now I can control or bind my spouse to certain behavior, or make them avoid other behavior. But that’s not so.

          A new name does not automatically bestow a new character; that only happens in the hidden recesses of the heart, where freedom and grace embrace. It’s as easy to change another person from a sinner into a saint as it is to change a cow into a fish, just by calling it so.

Praised be Jesus Christ!