The Quiet Corner,

a weekly meditation on the Sunday Gospel,

by the Reverend John A. Kiley,

as published in The Providence Visitor

since 1974.

The Quiet Corner                               By Father John A. Kiley                            6 January 2005

       Although the Holy Trinity is the bed rock of modern Christianity, mention of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit in the same breath is rare in the Sacred Scripture.  Some readers of the Bible would say that there are almost no explicit references to the Holy Trinity as such in the New Testament.   Although the formal clarification of three Divine persons in one Divine nature would only come after much meditation and discussion by Church fathers, the genesis of our belief that God is three distinct persons operating out of one common nature is graphically suggested in this Sunday’s Gospel account of the Baptism of our Lord according to St. Matthew. 

       Employing Old Testament symbols, St. Matthew recalls God the Father’s providential leadership of the Jewish people through the desert as a cloud during the day.  (God became a more visible pillar of fire during the night.)  Once the Jews attained the Promised Land of Israel, the cloud that led them, like the manna that fed them, disappeared.  The heavenly cloud also invokes the Divine Father’s presence on Sinai as he commissioned Moses to lead the Jews to the Promised Land.  In his fatherly guidance of the Jews, God was attempting to re-fashion this chosen race into loyal sons and daughters.  In the Jewish people, God would strive to undo the disastrous work of that first fateful son and daughter, Adam and Eve.  Adam was indeed God’s son; and Eve was indeed his daughter.  God expected great things from them – most of all obedience.  Yet they sinned grievously, flying in the face of God’s explicit command.  The Father’s desire to rehabilitate mankind through the Jewish nation, to call forth a new race of loyal sons and daughters, fell alas on equally hard times.  Rebellion and infidelity – that is, disobedience – were rampant in the Old Testament.  It would only be in Jesus Christ that God would discover the totally loyal, totally obedient, son.  God’s search for a son, shattered by Adam and frustrated by the Jews, would be fulfilled only in Jesus Christ.  “This,” God seems to be saying of Jesus, “is my beloved Son in whom I am not let down, in whom I am finally well pleased.”

       The Father is thus made vivid in the heavenly cloud just as the Spirit of God is picturesquely portrayed as a dove descended from the heavens.  Although the dove is most closely related with the saga of Noah and the receding of the flood waters, recall that at the original creation of the universe the spirit of God hovered over the waters, bringing forth life as a mother bird would generate life from her nest.  At the re-creation of the wayward world in Noah’s time, the Spirit would again be present announcing a new era, a new beginning, a fresh start.  Later theologians would formally enshrine the Holy Spirit as “the lord and giver of life,” words repeated by the Christian world every Sunday.  The Spirit who was life-giver at the first creation and at the second creation is still the life-giver in the new creation that is the Church.

       If providence is the task of the Father and vivification the mission of the Spirit, it is very clear that the vocation of the Son is obedience.  Unlike the erring Adam and unlike the stiff-necked desert Jews, Jesus Christ would prove totally open to the will of his Father.  The providence of God was Jesus’ clear plan of life.  Nothing would deter him from the Father’s will.  And unlike the errant Adam and unlike the fickle Jews, no alien spirit would deter Jesus from work of obedience.  When the humble John the Baptist attempts to deflect Jesus’ request for baptism on the grounds that John was unworthy to baptize the newly arrived Messiah, Jesus is adamant.  “It behooves us to fulfill the law,” the obedient Jesus, the docile Son, insists.  In Christ, the disobedience of the ages is reversed.  In Christ, the flawed sonship of mankind is rehabilitated. 

       Early on in his Gospel, St. Matthew describes for his readers and for all posterity God as providential Father, God as life-giving Spirit, God as dutiful Son.  Terms that would later be hallowed in dogma are first found here amid their Biblical roots.                                                    COMPLETE

       Once again I have to thank my friend, Father John Sistare, assistant pastor at St. Joan of Arc Parish in Cumberland, for pointing out the unapologetic and shameless defense of so-called abortion rights found in the Rhode Island Democrat Party platform.  The words are not taken from some document in Washington or New York or Los Angeles.  These phrases are the composition of your neighbors right here in Providence, Newport and Warwick:

Democrats stand behind the right of every woman to choose, consistent with Roe

v. Wade, regardless of ability to pay, and we support a national law to protect that

right. A woman's right to choose is a fundamental liberty. We do solemnly pledge to

support and foster contraceptive research, family planning and policies that support

healthy child bearing and strong parenting skills. These policies will make abortion

less necessary, not more difficult and dangerous.

       What struck me most about these words was the reference to “healthy child bearing.”  Unfortunately the “health” of the mother has become not an explanation but an excuse for justifying abortion for decades.  Letters of protest sent to our elected officials will elicit a response noting that these officials are, of course, personally opposed to abortion but still see a need to make abortion safe and legal in order to protect a woman’s “health”.  Thus alleged concern for a woman’s health has unfortunately become the legal foundation for the continued slaughter of innocent unborn children.  The fact is, however, that the very abortion procedure itself greatly affects a woman’s health as a recent article in Ethics and Medics, a publication of the National Catholic Bio-Ethics Institute out of Philadelphia, lucidly explains.

       When a woman becomes pregnant her entire body (and no doubt her mind as well) prepares for the arrival of new life in its midst.  Her womb, breasts, circulatory system, dietary functions and other physical aspects of the new mother’s frame all begin to focus on the infant growing within her.  The female human body is readying itself for nine months of child bearing and then for more months of early motherhood beyond that.  This is a marvelous and natural transformation.  In an abortion, the very center of all this activity is suddenly and violently removed.  The womb that was nourishing the fertilized egg (baby), the breasts that were ready to feed the new-born, the frame and muscles and flesh that were strengthened to carry a growing child for nine months have abruptly lost their precious cargo. 

       When a woman’s entire physical existence is focused on a given object and all of a sudden that object is forcibly removed, in no way can that removal be healthy or safe.  The abrupt procedure in the abortion clinic might appear to be antiseptic and sterile and professional.  But the long range effects of abortion on the physical and mental health of any woman are rarely researched, rarely acknowledged, even rarely suggested.   Yet, upon reflection, common sense would indicate that the sudden loss of an unborn child, no matter how hygienic and sanitary the procedure might be, is bound to be traumatic and frustrating for the female body preparing for motherhood.  If a mom goes bananas when she looses her kid at the mall, it is not illogical to suggest that the female body goes bananas when the unborn child is lost to abortion.

       The clearest example of the harm done to a mother’s health when she is deprived for her newly conceived child is the link between abortion and breast cancer.  Breast cells begin to multiply during pregnancy in preparation for lactation.  When an abortion occurs, these multiplying cells are left incomplete and very vulnerable to cancer.  The abortion industry and some of our politicians that are so concerned about a woman’s health ignore these and other medical facts labeling safe, healthy and legal a procedure that is lethal certainly to the unborn child and just possibly to the uninformed mother.  Abortion, like some politicians, thrives on ignorance.                                         COMPLETE

       When I returned to Warwick as pastor of St. Francis Church on Jefferson Blvd. (as well as St. William Church off Post Road) I continued my practice of teaching one class of religion a week to the children in the parish school.  My associate, Father Michael McMahon, does the same.  I always begin the class with the prayer to the Holy Spirit – Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful etc – a practice I have followed for years.  I was frankly stunned however when the eighth graders joined in and completed the prayer with me.  I would expect that the students in a Catholic School would know the Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be, Act of Contrition, maybe the Hail Holy Queen and the Apostles Creed.  That the invocation to the Holy Spirit was part of the student repertoire of prayer was very re-assuring.  My predecessors Father Gorton, Father Bodah, Father Timar and whatever that other pastor’s name was, certainly did something right as did the principals and religion teachers over the years.  St. Francis School is one of the very few Catholic schools in the diocese still to have religious sisters on its staff.  Sr. Joan Hawkins and the indomitable Sr. Charles Joseph Carr, both Sisters of St. Joseph, lend a hand to the new principal, Barbara Dwyer and her enthusiastic faculty.  And, more good news, each of the eighth grade students who applied to a Catholic High school was accepted.

       As I was getting re-acquainted with St. Francis School, I was invited to assist with confessions at nearby Bishop Hendricken High School in Warwick.  I had not been inside Hendricken in decades and was pleasantly surprised at how clean and bright and spacious were the public areas of the school.  And I guess very preppy would be the best way to describe the young men wearing jacket and tie as they filed from classroom to classroom.  One cannot judge a school by its ambiance or by sitting in a gym hearing confessions for an hour and a half, so I conversed with some faculty members who happen to be parishioners at St. William parish who spoke confidently of their curriculum.  Dave Marsocci and Bob Fuoroli  are both teachers while Lorita Jusilla is the librarian.  Lorita happily gave Father McMahon and me tour of the studious library.  Students from St. Francis and St. William parishes would nudge their companions as we passed by remarking, “Hey, there’s my priest.”

       So the Catholic School System in Warwick is alive and well, as indeed it is in other areas of the diocese, increases in tuition and expenses notwithstanding.  The Catholic schools with which I have been associated over the years seem to be quite stable.  Father John V. Doyle School in Coventry and St. Leo the Great School in Pawtucket are certainly holding their own.

       Very shortly students and parents and educators throughout the country will be celebrating Catholic School Week, January 30^th through February 5^th.  Liturgies and open houses and bulletin inserts will mark the occasion as parents are urged to consider a formal Catholic education for their children.  I write “formal” Catholic education here because parents are the first and foremost educators in their children in the way of faith.  Rarely can the Catholic school substitute for the religious example of the parent.  But the Catholic school certainly can enhance, develop, and augment the Christian values taught at home.   And if St. Francis School is any indication, they are doing a pretty good job.

       In the second reading for this coming Sunday’s Mass, St. Paul contrasts for the Corinthians human wisdom with the Cross of Christ.  There is nothing wrong with human wisdom.  Perhaps ninety percent of what is taught in Catholic schools could be considered human wisdom – mathematics, social studies, health, computer literacy.  But human wisdom without the Cross of Christ, without that supernatural element that unites and clarifies all other knowledge, is ultimately a cheat and a disappointment.  It is the glory of a school that is truly Catholic to view life from the angle of eternity, from the vantage point of the Cross, from a specifically Christian perspective.  Catholic school students receive an education in which heavenly opportunities are taken just as seriously as earthly responsibilities.   Why not visit a Catholic school next week?                COMPLETE

       Each year the diocesan Office of Worship sends out a brochure offering helpful suggestions regarding the observance of Lent.  The imposition of ashes, fasting and abstaining, penance services, muted musical accompaniment and the like are discussed.  Yet consistently, year after year, under successive administrations, a full page is devoted to a 1996 article by David Philippart from Chicago’s Liturgy Training Publications concerning the washing of feet during the Holy Thursday liturgy.  Mr. Philippart acknowledges that the washing of feet on Holy Thursday is an important part of that day’s service.  (There are some small Protestant sects that have made foot washing a near sacrament.)  The author also argues strictly that only feet are to be washed – never hands!   But while he is unyielding on what body part is to be cleansed, he is conversely liberal on whose feet are to be bathed.

       The sacramentary for Holy Thursday clearly reads in Latin that the feet of “viri selecti,” i.e., “selected men” are to be washed.  Had the Latin read “homines” instead of “viri” one might argue that the text was generically referring to human beings – man in the widest sense.  But “viri” would seem to be a specific word on the part of the ritualists composing the rite.  Our English words virile and virility, which clearly have a masculine bent, are derived from the Latin word vir.  In spite of this directive in the liturgical text, Mr. Philippart tries to convince his readers that the feet of any baptized person – man, woman, boy, girl – could and should be cleansed.  He even cites a 1986 document from Washington on the issue.  What plainly starts out as the Master’s special tribute to his chosen disciples becomes for Mr. Philippart a symbol of the universality of salvation:  “…if any group is excluded, the ensuing rite becomes a countersign and is best dropped.” 

       So once the gender of the persons chosen is disregarded, the number of persons having their extremities cleansed is also ignored.  While the sacramentary does not demand twelve men, it does read chosen or selected men, in other words, a symbolic sampling of the male congregation.  Philippart urges on the contrary that the feet of everyone in the church willing to participate should be cleansed.  Washing stations with assistants equipped with perfumed water and plush towels should set up about the church to facilitate this parish-wide interaction.  No Washington document is cited for this innovation.

       Mr. Philippart’s case rests on the premise that the Holy Thursday foot washing is a simple gesture of charity and not a re-enactment of the Last Supper foot washing by Jesus of his disciples.  The failure of the sacramentary to mention “twelve” men convinces him of this.  Alas, Mr. Philippart’s arguments clearly favor political correctness over common sense.  Of course this is a re-enactment of the Last Supper scene.  It takes place on Holy Thursday, at a Mass entitled The Lord’s Supper.  It is the priest celebrant, the one about to act “in the person of Christ” who does the washing.  The priest removes his chausable as Christ removed his outer garment.   The Gospel passage read does not highlight generic charity or community camaraderie.  Rather it clearly depicts self-effacing humility of the Master before his disciples.  The action of Christ himself is the clear focus of this ceremony, not any interaction among the disciples.  Philippart conveniently misplaces his emphasis.

       A quick search of the Internet readily indicates that Mr. Philipart’s practice is to redirect liturgy away from the person of Christ and towards the members of the community.  His many liturgical recommendations extol the community’s self-affirmation not their allegiance to Christ.  He recommends communal hand holding at the Our Father, indicating worshippers are the source of their own unity.  He favors standing through the Eucharistic prayer: the worshipper’s dignity is more important than Christ’s divinity.  He proposes lay preaching, thus baptism ranks along side holy orders and talent outranks mission.  He defends the displacement of the tabernacle: there are many presences of Christ within the church community.  Universal foot washing is just another sad example of the triumph of liturgical contrivance over ritual conformity.                  COMPLETE

       Just before the last election, a publication entitled “Catholic Answers” outlined some non-negotiable issues of which Catholics should be aware as they went to the polls.  These topics were, as one might suspect, abortion, euthanasia, human cloning, embryonic stem cell research and same-sex marriage.  While just about every Catholic would agree that these are critical issues, some Catholics found these matters to be a bit narrow in scope and urged that other important subjects like war, racism, capital punishment, living wage, AIDS and famine relief be taken under consideration.  A group of lawyers closely aligned with the conference of bishops in Washington suggested that this list of non-negotiable issues was too close to the Republican Party platform for comfort.  Some clergy embraced the publication of these life issues as a welcome source of guidance for the conscientious Catholic voter.  Other clergy dismissed the list as an attempt to manipulate the Catholic voting public.  A publication of broader scope was, in fact, offered by the conference of bishops to assist voters in exercising their civic duty.

       Those who did appreciate the focused stance of “Catholic Answers” must have been heartened when they read the Holy Father’s New Year’s address to the Vatican diplomatic corps.  The Holy Father used this opportunity to covey his most heartfelt ambitions to the various national representative in Rome, hoping they would relate his concerns to the world at large.  The Pope compassionately included the challenges of famine, peace and freedom in his list.   But he significantly began his enumeration of the evils of the day by pinpointing challenges to life.  He is very clear what these life issues are:  “Conflicting views have been put forward regarding abortion, assisted procreation, the use of human embryonic stem cells for scientific research, and cloning.”  And to these topics the Pontiff quickly adds, “The challenge to life has also emerged with regard to the very sanctuary of life: the family.”  He is referring here to non-traditional marriages like same sex unions.  So the Pope, at least, is not at odds with “Catholic Answers.”

       In this world of six billion persons there are many important issues.  No one in his or her right mind would dismiss feeding the hungry, working for peace and promoting justice as inconsequential matters.  Indeed they are matters integral to the Gospel.  Yet His Holiness is correct in focusing on the life issues as the paramount concerns of the twenty-first century.  Abortion, cloning, euthanasia and other medical procedures are not only attacks on humanity; they are attacks on God Himself.  To succeed, abortion, cloning, family planning, assisted suicide, and mercy killing must reduce human existence to mere science.  Technology must replace theology as the universal frame of reference from which to view human existence if abortion, cloning and such procedures are to continue.  Eternity, grace, sin, redemption, suffering, sacrifice and even God are a distraction in a merely technological world.  A world that can comfortably experiment on embryos and compassionately terminate the aged is a world well on its way to complete faithlessness and total secularization. 

        Contraception, abortion, artificial insemination, in vitro fertilization, surrogate motherhood, same sex parenting, human cloning, embryonic stem cell research, assisted suicide, euthanasia, and other immediate challenges to innocent life cannot exist within authentic Christianity.   In each of these procedures, man becomes the arbiter of life, literally playing God.  Birth, death, marriage and family become mere matters of technology, usurping the role of Providence and eliminating any need for faith.  Abortion and its accompanying evils cannot tolerate a world of belief, a world beyond science, a world trusting in God.  These modern threats to life and those who practice them will not be content until God and the supernatural have been completely privatized, indeed, completely eliminated.  Those who speak fearlessly and untiringly on behalf of the life issues are speaking on behalf of God Himself whose place in society is sorely threatened by the faithless misuse of technology and the sad retreat of supernatural belief.  Wisely does the Pope denounce these procedures for they are Godless enterprises heralding a diabolical era of even greater mayhem.     COMPLETE

       Mankind has suffered some severe blows to his collective pride since the beginning of the modern era.  The Polish priest Copernicus dared to suggest that the earth is not at the center of the heavens, rather the sun is central and man’s world is just one of several revolving around this brilliant core.  So the human race was not as special as once thought.  Darwin theorized that mankind did not originate fresh from the hand of God but evolved gradually from the animal, plant and mineral world.  Again man was not as unique as he had been led to believe.  Freud for his part discerned that men and women were not totally rational beings, guided solely by intellect and will.  Man in Freud’s analysis was influenced by subconscious tendencies whose roots were found more in nurture than in human nature.  Gradually over the course of the last five hundred years, at least from a material point of view, mankind has been guided away from thinking of himself as one of a kind, as exceptional, as distinctive.  Man made in the image and likeness of God, as Scripture would indicate, has been replaced in the popular mind by man resulting from sub-human forces.  Man is not a child of God; he is a child of the universe, born not from above but from below.

       These three revolutions of modern times – Copernican, Darwinian and Freudian – were not the first blows in human history to mankind’s self-esteem. The human family’s first parents, Adam and Eve, were not content in thinking of themselves as children of God.  They did not want to be guided from above as an obedient son and daughter.  They preferred instead to take things into their own hands and to be equal with God.  The first reading for this First Sunday of Lent recounts the sad scene.   “God knows well that the moment you eat of it your eyes will be opened and you will be like gods who know what is good and what is evil.”  But this disobedience which began with Adam and Eve was not to end there.   

       The entire Old Testament is a history of disobedience from the Garden of Eden to the heights of Mount Zion.  The ancient Jews were called into a special, filial relationship with God the Father. And many ancients responded to God’s call.  “I will be your God and you will be my people,” the prophet succinctly expressed the Old Covenant.  Yet, time and again, many Jews refused to take God at his word and failed in their trust of him.  Moses himself regarded his fellow Jews as a stiff-necked and rebellious people, constantly grumbling in the desert about the lack of water, lack of food, lack of comfort and lack of security.  As a nation they frequently gave themselves over to the worship of foreign idols, hoping that the luck they saw in their mightier neighbors would be theirs if they switched their allegiance to an alien god.  Like Adam before them, they failed to take the promises of God seriously.  They wanted to take things into their own hands.

       Modern man denies the Fatherhood of God by embracing an impersonal and remote notion of God, a cosmic Cheshire cat smiling on his developing universe.  To modern man, God is not a Father, he is a programmer.  Modern man’s sin is not to trust in God enough.  Ancient man, too, failed in his trust of God.  The ancient Jew was impatient with God, grumbling when God did not satisfy his every want.  Eve was envious of God when he seemingly withheld some of his excellence from his new creatures.  Both modern man and ancient man fail in their trust of God.  Both new and old underrate God’s Fatherhood, His Providence, His loving kindness.  In this Sunday’s Gospel from St. Matthew which opens the Lenten season, Jesus is put to the same test as the ancients and the moderns.  Jesus’ trust in God’s Fatherhood is put on the line.  Will he change stones into bread on his own or will he trust in his Father for support?  Will he take advantage of his Father’s concern and recklessly throw himself down from the Temple or will be trust in his Father’s plans?  Will he abandon his Father altogether and seek fulfillment elsewhere or will he persevere in trust toward his Father. Happily, Jesus passes all three tests and is declared for all time to be the dutiful, respectful, obedient Son of God.  It is Christ’s Sonship, Christ’s abiding trust in God’s Fatherhood, Christ’s confidence in God’s personal providence for mankind that all believers are invited to share this Lent.       COMPLETE

       In December 1936, Queen Mary, widow of King George V and grandmother of the current queen, glared at the British prime minister and remarked, “Well, Mr. Baldwin, this is a fine kettle of fish.”  The queen was referring, of course, to the decision of her son, King Edward VIII, to renounce the throne to marry an already twice married American, Wallis Warfield Spencer Simpson.  Seventy years ago British institutional precedence unsympathetically triumphed over the King’s individual preference and the abdicating Edward departed for France.  The personal reaction of Queen Elizabeth to the announcement by her son, Prince Charles, that he will marry his longtime companion, the previously married Camilla Parker-Bowles, has yet to be seen in print.  Perhaps her biographers will ferret that out in years to come.  But, characteristically for this day and age, an individual predilection has triumphed over institutional priority as the Prince of Wales weds his beloved divorcee.  In a further reversal of protocol, the new Duchess of Cornwall will be titled “her royal highness”, a consideration never extended to Edward’s spouse, the Duchess of Windsor.

       The engagement of the Prince to his new duchess was a news item on the same day that Ross-Simon Jewelers announced that they will no longer be stocking fine china and sterling silver for selection by brides.  “The last crack in the plate,” the Providence Journal noted, “is a decade-long trend toward causal living.”  Thus, in an era that equates tradition with staleness and convention with stuffiness, fine china, long a symbol of family ideals, now yields to imaginative tableware, giving modern couples a creative outlet for their personal tastes.  

       Some will congratulate the Prince on breaking with tradition to wed a previously married woman.  And some will applaud young couples who could care less about acquiring their grandmother’s chinaware.  Yet these choices are a serious and a not-so-serious manifestation of the public’s disregard for the rites, customs, and mores of the past.  Innovation, creativity, and originality can be refreshing.  But an eager open-mindedness toward the present moment can also isolate a person from the valuable heritage of previous generations.  Tradition, after all, is just another word for civilization.  One reason society “has always done it this way” is that “this way” has worked.  The permanence of marriage, the stability of family life, the rituals of worship, respect for the dead, deference toward seniors, the joy of birth, the merits of education, the demands of justice, concern for the poor and other moral values should be taught consistently and authoritatively by elders to juniors.  Each successive generation should not have to stumble autonomously into the meaning of life.  Many, alas, would never make it.

       In the Gospel for the Second Sunday of Lent, Jesus appears on the mountain of the Transfiguration along with Moses and Elias.  There Jesus is heralded from the cloud as the “Beloved Son,” in whom the Father is well pleased.   The chief characteristic of a beloved son is obedience to one’s father.  Moses was an obedient son in the midst of a rebellious and stiff necked people.  He was a man of proven fidelity in a community that failed often in its trust of God through idolatry, ingratitude and faintheartedness.  Elias, too, was an obedient son, a man of fidelity in an era of apostasy, blasphemy, and irreligion. When the vicious Queen Jezebel desecrated the Temple with her pagan priests and foreign prophets, Elias alone had to courage to stand and defend the old time religion.  Jesus, certainly, in his public life of preaching and especially during his passion and death, showed himself to be the obedient son, totally responsive to the Father’s will in spite of fickle disciples, unprincipled pagans and faithless Jews.   All three men put responsibility above autonomy and obligation before emancipation. 

       A generation encouraged solely in autonomy rather than in responsibility quickly becomes out of control.  Jesus, Moses and Elias responded to challenges beyond themselves and thereby discovered their true identity as beloved sons of their heavenly Father.                                                 COMPLETE

       St. John the Baptist stood on the banks of the Jordan River and declared proudly before the assembled crowds: “Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”  The Baptist was referring to his cousin Jesus whose public life had just begun.  St. John admits that his act of faith in Jesus was fairly abrupt.  “I did not know him,” the precursor confesses.  Rather St. John acknowledges that he has been led to this conclusion by a personal revelation from God: “…the one who sent me to baptize with water told me.”  The disciples of St. John the Baptist also display a swift appreciation of the person of Jesus.  After a single afternoon in Jesus’ company, Andrew tells his brother Simon, “We have found the Messiah.”  Likewise Nathaniel needs only a couple of quick exchangess to affirm robustly, “Rabbi, you are the son of God!  You are the King of Israel!”  The miraculous wedding feast at Cana, to which Jesus, Mary and the disciples had been invited, confirmed the incipient faith of these first followers:  “…and his disciples began to believe in him.”

       Thus the Gospel according to St. John begins its series of vignettes depicting acts of faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior of the world.  The hesitant Nicodemus toys early on with the notion of faith in Jesus but does not act upon it until the final chapters.  Many of the disciples reject faith in Jesus outright when challenged with the doctrine of the Eucharist:  “This is a hard saying.”  Yet St. Peter and a select few remain convinced that Jesus is indeed, “…the Holy One of God.”  The man born blind is awarded nothing but grief from the Jewish authorities when he is healed.  Yet he too finally accepts Jesus as light of the world: “I do believe, Lord.”   Martha makes a notable act of faith in Jesus in anticipation the resurrection of Lazarus.  “I have learned to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, he who is to come into the world.”  Even Pontius Pilate makes a hollow act of faith when he insists that a placard be tacked to the cross reading, “Jesus the Nazorean, The King of the Jews.”  St. Thomas makes the final and most celebrated act of faith in Jesus when he humbly admits before the Risen Christ, “My Lord and My God!”

       In this Sunday’s Gospel for the third week of Lent, the careful interplay of faith and belief is narrated through the tale of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well.  The woman, while not a Jew, had some knowledge of God’s revelation.  She was already a worshipper.  At first the woman receives Jesus merely as a traveler in need of refreshment.  “You don’t have a bucket and the well is deep.”  But she is willing to listen to this insightful stranger who speaks to her of living water and eternal life.  The transition from the natural to the supernatural does not come easily.  The woman prefers to argue about religion rather than embrace the faith.  “Our ancestors worshipped on this mountain but you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.”  She is also challenged by Jesus to examine her own lifestyle.  “You have had five husbands,” Jesus reminds her boldly.  Their extended dialogue is a blend of instruction and challenge on Jesus’ part leading to self-knowledge and conviction on the woman’s part.  Note carefully that the woman first heard the Word of God through Jesus (belief) which then led to her acceptance of him as Messiah (faith).  “Faith comes through hearing,” St. Paul would later write.   The woman’s neighbors enjoyed a similar experience in the company of Jesus:  “Many more began to believe in him because of his word.” 

       Authentic Christianity is a blend of belief and faith.  The two entities are not the same.  Belief is found largely in the intellect.  Belief is all those items that Christians have been taught about God, the Church and eternal life since childhood.  The creed with all its dogmas, the sacraments with all their rites and ceremonies, the commandments with all their prescriptions and prohibitions, the words of the Bible and the prayers of the Church – these are the stuff of belief.  Faith, on the other hand, is found chiefly in the believer’s will.  Faith is the decision to act upon one’s beliefs.  Faith surveys the personal dialogue one has been having with Christ, with the Church, and with life in general, and decides upon a course to be followed.  Sadly there are people with many beliefs but little genuine faith.  And sometimes there are persons with much faith resting on very primitive beliefs. True Christians will deepen their faith by evaluing their beliefs.    COMPLETE

     Tucked into the corner of this past Monday’s Providence Journal editorial page was a brief and intriguing observation on our Holy Father’s attitude toward pain and suffering.  As one might expect, the Pope placed suffering in the context of redemption.  Pain, for the Christian believer, is an opportunity to identify with the sufferings of Christ.  The sufferings of this life, both physical and spiritual, can make up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ.  That is, the redemption won by Christ on the Cross can be accepted and extended throughout the world by the patient endurance of suffering.  Pain can also make one sympathetic to the sufferings of others.  The Pope was not quoted as saying, “I feel your pain,” but it probably does make one empathetic toward the difficulties of others having been through the process oneself.  So, spiritual growth for oneself and fraternal compassion for others can be the fruit of affliction.  The Journal is right to suggest this.

       But then the local paper adds, strangely, a quote from Somerset Maugham observing that “suffering, for the most part, makes men petty and vindictive.”  Maugham has made a similar remark about poverty.  He noted that there is nothing particularly worthy about poverty.  It is the surest road to crime and violence.  Frankly, Maugham does have a point.  Suffering and poverty can easily breed self-pity and resentment.  The embittered soul who has encountered too many of life’s obstacles, the angry man who feels that life has never given him an even break, the disillusioned person who has given up on life – these sad results can be the fruit of pain just as readily as the lofty example set by our Holy Father.  The Journal ends its single paragraph opinion by asking, “Depends on the person?”

       Suffering as the quickest path to pettiness and poverty as surest road to violence are undeniable but not universal facts of life.  The difference between the Pope’s praiseworthy fortitude and Maugham’s predictable cynicism is faith.  The person without faith has a very limited context in which to place life’s reversals.  Without supernatural faith, the afflicted person is frankly left to suffer alone.  Life’s miseries are seen merely as deprivations, setbacks, hindrances.  The productivity of others becomes an occasion for resentment, bitterness and envy.  The feeling of defeat, loss and what-might-have-been can be overwhelming.  The non-believing world might be able to dismiss life’s occasional troubles as a challenge, a maturing experience, or an opportunity to grow.  But long-suffering is not the strong suit of the modern world.  Unrelieved pain and unremitting suffering are often hollow and pointless experiences in a faithless world, to wit – assisted suicide. 

       It really cannot be over-emphasized that pain and suffering are integral to the Christian life.  If they were not, then surely God would have chosen some other manner of redemption than the Cross of Christ.  Christ did not redeem mankind by his preaching, his miracles, or his leadership.   While these qualities formed the context of Christ’s life, it was specifically the Paschal mystery – the suffering, death and resurrection of Christ – that saved mankind from sin.  Christ the preacher, the miracle worker, the worthy shepherd, certainly provides inspiration and guidance on life’s journey.  But it was Christ the suffering servant, Christ the high priest, “Jesus Christ and him crucified,” that saved the world from eternal damnation – and from a pointless existence here on earth.

       The Christian faith is a mandate to join life’s individual sufferings to the redemptive sufferings of Christ.  The adage that our parents and grandparents lived by – “offer it up” – was not without substance.  For the chronically and terminally ill, the handicapped, the irreversibly marginalized, disadvantaged and challenged, resignation does not have to mean resentment.  Life can be fruitful beyond measure when lived in union with Jesus Christ.  When Pope John Paul mentioned the “simple joys of poverty” in Mexico some years ago, he was booed. And it is true.  Without faith poverty, like pain, is a curse.  But even pain and poverty, for the believer, can bear fruit both in time and especially in eternity.   COMPLETE

       The great Saint Augustine found a problem with this coming Sunday’s lengthy Gospel passage on the resurrection of Lazarus.  St. John’s narrative reads, “The dead man came out, tied hand and foot with burial bands, and his face was wrapped in a cloth. So Jesus said to them, "Untie him and let him go." (Jn.11:44).  If Lazarus’ hands and feet were bound and his sight obscured by a cloth, St Augustine mused, then how did he ever manage to accomplish his exit from the tomb?  It is difficult to image a corpse wiggling its way out of a yawning rock while mourning witnesses stood by solemnly.  Perhaps the bandages were not too securely tightened. 

       Saint Augustine had other observations on the raising of Lazarus as well.  The bishop of Hippo noted that Jesus performed four resurrections during his public life.  There was, of course, the celebrated resurrection of the well dead Lazarus. “Martha, the dead man's sister, said to him, ‘Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days’ (Jn.11:39)”.  Then there was the resurrection of the widow’s son at Naim who perhaps had been dead for a day.  “As he drew near to the gate of the city, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow” (Luke 7:12).  Then there was the daughter of Jairus who had breathed her last within minutes:  “While he was saying these things to them, an official ¹⁴ came forward, knelt down before him, and said, "My daughter has just died. But come, lay your hand on her, and she will live" (Matthew 9:18).  And finally there was the happy rescue of the centurion’s servant who was sadly at the point of death:  “When he had finished all his words to the people, he entered Capernaum. A centurion ³ there had a slave who was ill and about to die, and he was valuable to him” (Luke 7:1).

    In these four resurrections or near resurrections, St. Augustine saw the four stages of sin.  Lazarus represented the hardened sinner.  He was dead four days and had begun to stink.  This is the man who is away from God, estranged from his neighbor, destructive toward himself.  The widow’s son, dead for a day, symbolizes the mortal sinner.  This person has had the misfortune to fall into serious sin, not repeatedly as the hardened sinner has, but he has clearly made evil choices.  The little girl who has just died stands for the venial sinner.  This individual has not strayed too far from God but the impatience and dishonesty and indulgence of daily life has become a sad pattern.  And finally the slave who was about to die suggests the person who is sorely tempted.  Sin has not yet been committed but the soul is dangerously on the brink.   St. Augustine’s good news is that Jesus Christ and his Church can address all four of these situations in the sacrament of Penance.

       At this season of year when so many parishes are offering First Confession to their young children, parents are frequently moved by the opportunity to confess their own sins to the priest during the Penance service.  The same is true of Lenten retreats.  Persons kneel or sit before the priest opening up ten, fifteen, twenty years of their lives for examination and repentance.  Other persons who perhaps have been going to church and otherwise minding their business will reveal a single sin that has bothered them for some time.  Perhaps a shady transaction at work or an isolated infidelity or maybe even a long regretted abortion will be revealed to the priest.  Others certainly will have a litany of lies, vulgarities, gossip, rivalries and lost temper, the failings of everyday life.  Still others will share their weariness in avoiding sin.  Temptations can be a real struggle in a world without shame. 

       It is sad that even the best of Catholics rarely go to confession.  Yet in this sacrament Jesus has a message and, better still, a healing balm for the lethal effects of sin.  St. Augustine wisely knew that Jesus in the sacrament of Penance has relief for every sinner – from the stinking Lazarus to the weakened slave.  Forgiveness through the sacrament of Penance was the first gift of the Risen Christ to his Church and to sinners of every stripe.  His gift of renew life awaits all in the confessional.  COMPLETE      

      As I drove the mile and eight/tenths from St. William rectory to St. Francis Church for Mass one recent morning, the car radio featured a news item about dolphins that had inexplicably beached themselves.  One of the dolphins was pregnant and began to give birth as she lay in the beach’s shallow water.  The newscaster went through every step of the dolphin’s birthing process.  The baby was in the birth canal.  The baby was partially delivered.  The baby was too taxing for the mother’s exhausted muscles.  The baby was born.  The baby survived a few moments.  The baby died.  During the entire broadcast the infant dolphin was termed a baby.  Just the day before, a promo for Judge Judy had her honor scolding a pregnant woman for staying out late telling her she should have been home “taking care of her fetus.”  A new born dolphin is a “baby,” but a soon to be born human being is a “fetus”?  Does anyone see an agenda here?   Clearly the media, in sympathy with animal rights activists, want to humanize dolphins.  And clearly the media, in sympathy with abortion providers, want to dehumanize the unborn.  Words do matter.

       Accordingly, the homosexual lobby and their supporters have seized the language of justice and rights to promote their cause.  A local columnist recently wrote, “Justice demands that Rhode Island pass a law to allow same-sex marriage, and some day justice will prevail.”  The writer dismissed the opinion of a local legislator who thought the difference between civil unions and marriage was “nitpicking.”  The columnist wrote, “I don’t think it’s nitpicking to insist on equality.”  Justice, equality, rights, and liberties – these are powerful words in America and one gainsays them with peril.  Yet it must be stated that legislators cannot confer rights on persons who do not have the capacity to exercise those rights.  Until recently the very definition of marriage has been the ability to exercise conjugal relations in a full and meaningful way.  Whether it be the arranged marriages of previous centuries or the romantic marriages of modern times, marriage has always been a pledged, physical union open to the transmission of life.  Since the union of two men or two women can never be open to the transmission of life, their liaison can never constitute a marriage.  Hence, no legislative body can confer rights on those incapable of exercising them.  Biological and psychological differences are integral to any authentic marriage.  The physical differences between a man and a woman are the foundation stones of marriage.  To deny such an obvious fact would be the real injustice. 

          Not only as believers but also as citizens, Americans must stand firm in support of traditional marriage and not allow “personal stories” to sway their sentiments toward more liberal thinking.  Legislation based on personal stories would deny marriage its broad social base and spawn a completely new experiment, unique with each couple presenting themselves at the town clerk’s office.  Any couple, no matter how peculiar or unsuited, would be worthy of a marriage license if “personal stories” rather than common sense and the common good guided our courts and civic assemblies.  The sanctity of marriage, like the sanctity of life, has traditionally been thought to be unassailable.  (Present practice notwithstanding, divorce is a fairly new phenomenon.)  But the sanctity of life has been superseded by the quality of life in modern thinking.  Perhaps, too, the sanctity of marriage may be eclipsed by the hyped “quality” of same-sex unions – two preppy dads or two professional moms romping about with their kids.  Sanctity implies of marriage exactly what sanctity implies of God:  something well beyond man’s grasp.  Marriage is man’s to accept and embrace, not his to alter or amend, no matter how compelling the “personal stories” one may hear.

       Roman Catholics have a heavy burden to bear in the modern disregard for traditional marriage.  The widespread acceptance of contraception by Catholic couples contributes greatly to the re-definition of marriage being witnessed today.  By severing the affections of the couple from the transmission of new life, the possibility of same-sex marriage was remotely suggested.  To preserve the authenticity of marriage in society, Roman Catholics must re-introduce the transmission of life to their bedrooms.                                                                                                          COMPLETE

       The prayer card read, “Abraham started on his journey not knowing where he was going and thus he knew he was on the right road.”   An inner void whereby every believer starts life’s journey directionless and discerns a solitary path to salvation is often heralded as a sign of spiritual authenticity by contemporary writers.  Whereas an older generation would have opened a Bible or a catechism for direction, the modern believer naively opens the blank pages of an empty journal and begins to record the meaning of life.  At the recent invitation of the Catholic chaplaincy at Brown University and in contrast to the Christian life as an open-ended, aimless journey, writer Paul Elie preferred the image of the pilgrimage to that of the journey when speaking of the Christian life of faith.  Elie, the author of The Life You Save May Be Your Own, described a pilgrimage as a journey made in the light of a story.  Medieval pilgrims on their way to Canterbury were not aimlessly wandering the English countryside in search of a destination.  Rather these pilgrims to the famed cathedral city knew exactly where they were going.  They knew well the story of St. Thomas a Becket, his heroic defense of the Church’s liberties, and his tragic death.  They undertook their journey in the hope of broadening and deepening their own Christian commitment in the light of Becket’s story.  Their journey had a clear foundation and an obvious goal.  What occurred in between was interpreted in the light of these two poles.  A pilgrimage therefore is rich in content – unlike the personal introspection and subjective analysis that often passes for the spiritual life nowadays.

       In his book, The Life You Save, Elie highlights four American Catholics authors whose lives and writings reflect this notion of pilgrimage.  Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, Flannery O’Connor and Walker Percy absorbed clear values in their early adult lives and sought throughout the remainder of their lives to deepen these values, which led them to appreciate the Catholic Church.  Dorothy Day was greatly touched by the great nineteen century authors like Tolstoy and Dickens.  Thomas Merton was deeply impressed with Aquinas’ philosophy reflected in the writing of Etienne Gilson.  Flannery O’Connor was awed by the Christian thought of Maritain and the anonymously Christian thought of Camus.  Walker Percy reacted to the faithless writings of European philosophers and was determined to find more in life.  From their initial contact with great thought --some of it explicitly Christian, some of it implicitly Christian, some not Christian at all – these American Catholic men and women began their pilgrimage, constantly guided in their later lives by the light of these early experiences.  Elie made a point of observing that the four were always true to their sources.  The insightful messages that thrilled them as youths supported them into maturity.  Day in her soup kitchen, Merton in his cloister, O’Connor on her Southern farm, Percy in Cajun country – four quite different lives; yet four lives grateful for their initial insights into life and four lives daily enriched by their fidelity to those insights.  These were not mere vagabonds; these were pilgrims taking great delight in an intense story and ever faithful to a profound vision.

       The analogy of the pilgrimage is particularly appropriate as the Christian world approaches Holy Week and Easter.  The betrayal and deliverance of Jesus, his mockery and crucifixion, his burial and glorious resurgence from the grave, form the fundamental Christian story in light of which every believer must wend his way to salvation.  In the Paschal Mystery, the beginning and the end of the Christian life have been revealed to all believers.  Like pilgrims, every step of life’s journey, every turn in the road, must be evaluated in the shadow of Good Friday/Easter Sunday.  In the light of Good Friday, suffering is not the curse that the proponents of abortion, assisted-suicide and mercy killing would suggest.  In the light of Easter Sunday, the materialism, sensuality and notoriety that pre-occupy so much of contemporary society are seen as a cheat and a disappointment.  The message of the crucified and risen Christ is the first and final story by which the earnest pilgrim must discern the meaning and direction of life.  The Christian life is indeed a pilgrimage.  The wise believer makes that pilgrimage guided by Christ’s story, faithful to Christ’s story, enriched by Christ’s story.                     COMPLETE

       Father Raymond Brown, the eminent and sometimes controversial Scripture scholar who taught many years at St. Mary Seminary in Baltimore, always cautioned his students that the words of Scripture did not exhaust the Catholic faith.  The Bible always has to be read with an eye to the full store of Catholic beliefs. A letter appearing in last week’s Visitor unfortunately suggested that because a given Scriptural text did not explicitly support a liturgical practice, therefore the practice was in error.  Such a fundamentalist approach to the Scriptures was surprising in a Catholic newspaper.  While Protestants are proud to derive their religious beliefs solely from the written word, Catholics have rightly understood sacred tradition to be an equal partner in God’s plan of revelation.  If the Scriptures are not clear, then the Church by her teaching or her practice or her ritual completes the picture.  “Show me where it says in the Bible…” is a profoundly Protestant approach to the Christian faith.  “What does the Church understand…” is the pre-eminently Catholic perspective on all religious issues.

       Armed with common sense and a feel for things Catholic, a newly ordained priest of this diocese defended in a previous letter the familiar practice of washing the feet of “selected men” on Holy Thursday in remembrance of Christ’s service to his closest associates on that Last Supper night.  Nowhere in his letter did the young priest cite Scripture as a source.  Nonetheless he was informed in no uncertain terms that the Last Supper account in St. John’s Gospel does not support foot washing in this traditional manner.  The argument goes that no one can be sure exactly whose feet Jesus washed because St. John simply writes that Jesus washed the feet of his “disciples.”  (The word “apostles” never appears in the Fourth Gospel.)  So the word “disciples” could mean the Twelve Apostles, or it could mean an indeterminate number of followers, as when some “disciples” no longer walked with Christ after the Bread of Life discourse.  And, of course, the word “disciples” might imply some women who were faithful to Christ.  So, in St. John’s Gospel, the word “disciples” is indefinite to say the least.  But, since the foot washing episode is clearly placed within the context of the Last Supper, the prudent Catholic believer will turn to the broader context of the New Testament to get an accurate picture.  Saints Matthew, Mark and Luke are amazingly consistent on who were Christ’s companions that night:  “When it was evening, he reclined at table with the Twelve…When it was evening, he came with the Twelve…When the hour came, he took his place at table with the apostles.”  Everyone from Leonardo DaVinci to Salvator Dali to Pope John Paul II is clear on the issue.  The Pope’s Holy Thursday letter to priests, speaking of service, even states: “This is exactly what Jesus expected of his apostles, as the Evangelist John emphasizes in his account of the washing of the feet.”

       The contention that the text of St. John’s foot washing episode does not support the common belief that it was the Apostles who were the recipients of Christ’s services becomes much more critical when this coming Sunday’s Gospel concerning the Sacrament of Penance is read.  Since St. John never uses the word “apostles” anywhere, he writes that on Easter Sunday night the “disciples” were gathered in one room and Jesus came and stood in their midst.  He breathed on them and instituted them as ministers of the sacrament of Penance.  “Whose sins you shall forgive…”  Were Mary Magdalene and Salome and Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus in the room that night?  Were they all made confessors?  The Johanine text as it stands would seem not support the common belief that the ministry of reconciliation was handed on exclusively to the Apostles and hence to ordained priests.  So one can see where all of this is leading.  Broaden the foot washing experience for starters.  Then broaden other ministries in time.  Pretty soon the Church, as one writer observed, is more democratic than apostolic, more communal than priestly, more egalitarian than hierarchical – which has ever been the goal of the modernists.  Such agenda driven theology is unworthy of any serious consideration among Catholics.                                                                        COMPLETE

       Faith and belief are the two words that come easily and gladly to mind when recalling the life of Pope John Paul II, now of happy memory.  Faith and belief are similar certainly but they are still distinct qualities found abundantly in the pontificate of our late Holy Father. 

       Pope John Paul was a man of great faith.  As a man of faith the sacramental and supernatural worlds were very real for him.  Priests fortunate enough to concelebrate Mass in the Pontiff’s private chapel have remarked on the prayerful recollection that the Pope enjoyed and engendered as he prepared himself for Mass and as he rejoiced after saying Mass.  The sacramental world he was about to enter was alive for him.  Even in the midst of hundreds of thousands of people on his worldwide journeys the Pope’s attention to the supernatural elements of the Mass – the power of the Word, the solemnity of the Eucharistic prayer, the true Presence of Christ in the Sacred Host – brought a hush to those vast assemblies that under less spiritual leadership might have provoked a carnival atmosphere. The Pope’s recent insistence on the primacy of the Eucharist in the life of Church and, a couple of years ago, his firmness on the need to re-vivify the role of Penance in the Church’s sacramental life as well as his apostolic letter on Sunday observance clearly underline that he thought of the Church primarily as a worshipping community focused on eternal life rather than an agency for social change in this life.  The Pope’s legendary devotion to the Blessed Mother, especially Our Lady of Fatima, and his astounding additions to the catalogue of canonized saints illustrate without a doubt that for this chief shepherd heaven was not just a goal but a daily pre-occupation.  Even the report that the late pontiff had the Stations of the Cross read to him the day before he died, as was his custom on Fridays, reaffirms that this man lived in a very spiritual, very sacramental, very supernatural world.

       For the most part the Catholic and secular worlds admired the Pope for his faith.  An encounter with him transcended the ordinary.    But many, both within and without the Church, took exception to the Pope’s firm beliefs about what it means to be a Catholic.  Certainly Pope John Paul II re-asserted, as one might expect, the major beliefs of Christianity.  His first encyclical, Redemptor Hominis, rightly stressed the primacy of Jesus Christ in salvation history and his second, Dives in Misericordia, affirmed the unique kindness of God the Father.  Few could argue with these presentations.  But others would take exception to his teachings in Veritatis Splendor.  Writers note that here the Pope stressed the universality and immutability of the moral commandments, particularly those which prohibit always and without exception intrinsically evil acts. The Pope, in other words, reaffirmed as Catholic teaching that there are moral absolutes or exceptionless moral norms valid always and everywhere and consequently there are intrinsically evil acts.   It was this black and white world so clear to his Holiness that the secularists outside the Church and the modernists within the Church resented and rejected.  The Pope’s uncompromising beliefs bore practical significance in such contemporary life issues as abortion, contraception, euthanasia, capital punishment, just war, divorce, and homosexuality.  Within the Church our late Holy Father’s disciplined stance on celibacy, male priesthood, religious life, Catholicism’s hierarchical nature, his own universal authority, academic integrity, and liturgical matters often distanced him from the post-Vatican II crowd who value cultural adaptation more than sacred tradition. 

       Some might dismiss Pope John Paul’s firm stance on moral and disciplinary matters as a plain attempt “to keep the lid on things.” But our late Holy Father was no mere conservative.  He was profoundly Christian.  As his final days illustrated, Pope John Paul understood and appreciated “Jesus Christ and him crucified.”  In a world that is scandalized by suffering – unexpected pregnancy, chronic illness, sexual discipline, economic restraint, any human limitation -- the Pope insisted that suffering, sacrifice and discipline are the keys to redemption and the doors to union with Christ.  A world without the Cross (that is, a world without limits) is a world without Christ – a lesson John Paul taught and lived but which the worldly-wise misunderstand and dismiss.                          COMPLETE

       God in his Providence employs what some theologians call a “corporate person” to effect his work here on earth.  “In Adam’s fall, we sinned all” read the old New England maxim.  Clearly Adam was a corporate person.  For better or worse, he stood for all mankind.  The Hebrew Scriptures abound in persons who represent the entire believing community.  The promises made to Abraham were promises made to the whole Jewish nation.  The authority granted to Moses was for the benefit of every follower of YHWH.  The unification of Israel effected under King David anticipated all God’s people being gathered into one through the Gospel. 

       Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, the Judges, Saul, Solomon, Ahab, the Maccabbees, maybe even Cyrus, as well as Eve, Judith, Ruth and Deborah, were Biblical figures representative of God’s merciful kindness and providential guidance toward his chosen people.  Perhaps even the wicked queen Jezebel could be viewed as a fusion of all the evil found within the human race.  God the Father’s fondness for selecting individuals in the Old Testament to represent the whole People of God paved the way for Jesus Christ who is, of course the supreme corporate person.  “Dying you destroyed our death; rising you restored our life,” the Church prays, understanding the entire economy of salvation to be summed up in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.  The Church sees its ideal self in Jesus.

       Christ himself in the New Testament continues the Biblical tradition of the part acting on behalf of the whole, the one representing the many.  Jesus Christ dealt with many people: the crowds, his disciples, the Apostles and Simon Peter, the chief of the Apostles.  Jesus valued all these relationships but he directed them in very distinct ways.  Jesus was a man of the people and the people treasured his words.  But the Gospels teach that Jesus took the disciples aside and gave them instructions not shared with the crowds.  Furthermore Peter, James and John witnessed events like the raising of Jairus’ daughter, the Transfiguration and the agony at Gethsemane not viewed by the other Apostles.  Finally Peter was given boldly unique instructions on more than one occasion for his ministry as chief shepherd of the Church.  Jesus clearly envisioned a hierarchy within the believing community.  All of which underlines the importance of this weekend’s Gospel passage for Good Shepherd Sunday.

        The image of Jesus Christ as the Good Shepherd is perhaps the most popular depiction of Our Lord next to his Crucifixion.  The gentle Savior embracing his lambs strikes a cord in every believer’s heart.  Yet there is some very serious doctrine behind this sentimental portrait.  The shepherd was a dedicated and devoted leader, necessary for the unity and safety of his flock.  Unlike cattle, sheep have no herding instinct.  They are fierce individualists, wandering wherever there is grass available for nibbling, oblivious to the wolves, briar patches and cliffs that threaten them.  Just as sheep desperately need a shepherd, so believers urgently need dedicated and devoted priests. What Christ embodies for the whole Church, the priest should exemplify for the parish and the bishop for the diocese.  In today’s Church, however, the task of the shepherd is fast being replaced by the ambitions of the flock

       Nowadays baptism is becoming the great commissioning sacrament empowering all believers.  Upon entering a Catholic church, huge baptismal fonts with flowing water grab the eye that used to be drawn to the centrally enthroned tabernacle, subtly exalting the sacrament of Baptism over the sacraments of Eucharist and Holy Orders.  Hence Holy Orders no longer establishes a man as a priest leading his people but as a presider facilitating good order among the baptized.  Priestly leadership is replaced with parochial consensus.  Church dogma is ignored for day-to-day practicality.  A divinely instituted hierarchy is overlooked in the name of equality.  Such a shepherdless Church is far from the mind of Christ and far from the words of Scripture.  God has consistently employed representative persons, good shepherds if you will, to reveal his words, to guide his people, to effect reconciliation, to promote unity.  The Catholic priesthood certainly stands in that tradition.               COMPLETE

       Three episcopal mottoes will come under some scrutiny in the near future.  Perhaps by the time this article is being read a new pope will have been elected and the Christian adage he has chosen for himself will be carefully analyzed.  In the meantime Rhode Islanders have two other episcopal emblems to ponder.   The recently ordained and installed Co-Adjutor Bishop of Burlington, the Most Reverend Salvatore Matano, has chosen an expression from St. Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians (4:13) to express his personal aspirations for his new ministry.  Bishop Matano’s thoughtfully selected phrase is “in unitatem fidei,” that is, “toward the unity of faith.”  In what is perhaps St. Paul’s most lofty theological work, the Apostle writes to the Ephesians:

       “And he gave some as apostles, others as prophets, others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers, to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the extent of the full stature of Christ, so that we may no longer be infants, tossed by waves and swept along by every wind of teaching arising from human trickery” (NAB).

       The phrase “to the unity of faith,” or better, “toward the unity of faith” or even “into the unity of faith” indicates an obvious tension, a clear dynamic, within the Church.  From its beginning the Church possessed a true unity through Christ.  Those who accept Jesus as Messiah and Lord, adhering to his teachings, clearly enjoy an oneness in Christ.  So the authentic Church is already one, united in faith and commitment to Christ.  Yet Christ’s true Church will also experience a gradual growth to maturity.  The Church must extend the fullness of unity not only to unbelievers, as one might expect, but even to believers.  The one body of Christ itself must be built up, fulfilled, completed.  For the alert Christian, unity is at once a reality and a goal, an actuality and a hope, a certainty and an ideal.  Christian unity is simultaneously a present reality to be enjoyed as well as an eschatological end to be attained.  The Church, for all its spiritual resources, still has its work cut out for it.

       Providence Bishop-elect Thomas Tobin’s episcopal motto is taken from the Second Letter of Saint Paul to Timothy (1:7).  The emblem on Bishop Tobin’s coat of arms reads “Strong, Loving, Wise.”  Frankly, it was a bit of a search to discover exactly those words in the New Testament, so plentiful are the various English translations.  The New American Bible, the official translation for the USA, reads as follows:

       “For this reason, I remind you to stir into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice but rather of power and love and self-control. So do not be ashamed of your testimony to our Lord, nor of me, a prisoner for his sake; but bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.”

       The slight variation between the bishop’s coat of arms and the New American translation lead to an interesting examination of assorted other translations and even to the original Greek text.  Instead of “strong, loving and wise,” or “power, love and self-control,” the Greek indicated a leader who was “dynamic, charitable and sensible.”  Six of one, half a dozen of the other, perhaps, but nonetheless these are three enviable attributes in any bishop.   St. Timothy, a disciple of St. Paul and a third-generation Christian, is urged to overcome any timidity in his ministry and rely firmly on the grace of his sacramental priesthood to be an effective, concerned and disciplined minister of the Gospel.  St. Paul cautions his young friend that he is bound to experience adversity as a Church leader but “the strength that comes from God” will ease his burden, making him “strong, loving, and wise.”  Strength, love and wisdom are certainly reassuring and encouraging qualities worthy of any bishop.  Bishop Tobin need not be timid about exercising them here in his new see.                                COMPLETE

       Saint Benedict of Nursia, hermit, monk and abbot, founder of the Benedictine order, is the patron saint of Europe.  In no small measure his monastic order preserved both Christian and Classical antiquity during the Dark Ages and contributed to the flowering of Europe once again in the Middle Ages.  Certainly Pope Benedict XVI had this founding father in mind when he selected his papal name.  Yet several have suggested a link between the current Holy Father and his predecessor in the early decades of last century.  A frail man, Pope Benedict XV (Giacomo della Chiesa) served from 1914 until 1922.  Della Chiesa’s early career thrived under Pope Leo XIII and his Secretary of State Cardinal Rampola whom he served as secretary.  When Rampola lost out to St. Pius X in the 1903 papal election, Della Chiesa’s diplomatic career went on hold.  He was made Cardinal-Archbishop of Bologna where he remained until St. Pius X’s death.  Perhaps longing for a return to the politically enlightened ways of Leo XIII and Rampola (when compared to the religiously staunch ways of St. Pius X and Cardinal Merry del Val), the cardinal electors chose the diminutive Della Chiesa as the new Pope. 

       Sadly but courageously, the new Pope Benedict XV spend much of his eight years as pontiff dealing with World War I.  His celebrated peace proposals may have given Woodrow Wilson ideas for his peace initiative.  The European powers were suspicious of the neutral Vatican and excluded the Holy See from any official capacity in the peace negotiations.  Pope Benedict was able to organize exchanges of prisoners and several other humanitarian efforts during the war.  As Supreme Pontiff, he pursued unity with the Eastern Churches, establishing an Egyptian college in Rome.  He encouraged missionary efforts.  He wrote an encyclical on the Sacred Scriptures in commemoration of St. Jerome in which he insisted on the historicity of the Bible so threatened by the textual criticism of the day.  He had great devotion to the Blessed Mother with a special concern for the brown scapular. He also canonized Ss. Margaret Mary and Joan of Arc to placate anti-clerical France.  One of his great contributions to the church of the twentieth century was to move Acille Ratti (Pius XI) and Eugenio Pacelli (Pius XII) into circles of diplomatic influence.  Ratti became nuncio to Poland and Pacelli became nuncio to Bavaria and then Germany.  And of course it was under Pope Benedict XV’s guidance that the 1918 Code of Canon Law (commissioned by Pius X but largely composed by the future Pius XII) was complied and promulgated. 

       Some have suggested that Benedict XVI might be a worthy successor to Benedict XV if he were to ease rivalries within the Church.  The earlier Benedict graciously admitted the validity of divergent opinions in matters not settled by the Holy See.  And he eschewed attaching labels to the word Catholic. Catholics should not be termed conservative or liberal.  They are full Catholics or they are not Catholics at all. 

       While this Pope was benevolently concerned about moderation within the Church, it should be recalled that no theologian excommunicated under Pius X returned to the Church under Benedict XV.  In his first encyclical, Ad Beatissimi Apostolorum, he wrote: Infatuated and carried away by a lofty idea of the human intellect, confident in their own judgment, and contemptuous of the authority of the Church, they have reached such a degree of rashness as not to hesitate to measure by the standard of their own mind even the hidden things of God and all that God has revealed to men. Hence arose the monstrous errors of "Modernism," which Our Predecessor rightly declared to be "the synthesis of all heresies," and solemnly condemned. We hereby renew that condemnation in all its fulness. Nor do We merely desire that Catholics should shrink from the errors of Modernism, but also from the tendencies or what is called the spirit of Modernism. Those who are infected by that spirit develop a keen dislike for all that savours of antiquity and become eager searchers after novelties in everything. Therefore it is Our will that the law of our forefathers should still be held sacred: "Let there be no innovation; keep to what has been handed down.”   Those hoping for a clone of Benedict XV might be on the right track.                                                                                    COMPLETE

       No passages of Scripture could be more frustrating to a Biblical fundamentalist than the five accounts of the Ascension of Jesus Christ into heaven at the conclusion of his earth career.  The books of Matthew, Mark, Luke, John and Acts abound in inconsistencies and vague references.  Some of these variations, frankly, are beyond reconciliation.  For example, St. Matthew presents no time line for the Ascension but he clearly notes that the Lord Jesus took his leave from a mountain in Galilee.  St. Mark has Jesus make his departure at no specific time but from a place where the Apostles would have been gathered together “at table,” certainly reminiscent of the Upper Room in Jerusalem where the Last Supper took place and which was owned, according to folklore, by young Mark’s mother.  St. Luke’s contribution to the confusion is significant.  St. Luke pointedly tells his readers that Jesus ascended into heaven from Bethany, a village within walking distance of Jerusalem, far removed from Galilee.  And in his Acts of Apostles, St. Luke uniquely pinpoints the date of Christ’s departure as forty days after his Resurrection.  St. Luke is most decidedly precise about time and place.  St. John completely muddies the waters by having Jesus return to the Father sometime between the Easter morning encounter with St. Mary Magdalene and the Easter evening rendezvous with the Eleven Apostles.  Jesus tells Mary that she should not continue to cling to him for he has not yet ascended to his Father.  He instructs her to inform the Apostles he will be ascending shortly: “I am going to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”  That evening Jesus returns, filled with the Holy Spirit, and entrusts the ministry of reconciliation to his favored band.  Obviously he had met the Father in the meantime.

       In spite of the chronological and geographical discrepancies within the New Testament accounts, all five accounts agree on one momentous item: the Ascension, whenever and wherever it occurred, involves a great commissioning.  It is the ascended Christ, the Christ who has completed his ministry here on earth, that now fully entrusts this ministry to his Eleven favored disciples.  All four Gospel writers place words of evangelical urgency on the lips of Jesus.   “All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me,” St. Matthew writes famously, “go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.”  St. Mark for his part records Jesus’ last instruction thus: “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature. Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved; whoever does not believe will be condemned.”  St. Luke reserves Jesus’ final directives for the Acts of Apostles.  Jesus promises, “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."  St. John follows suit by having the newly risen and ascended Christ inform the disciples: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” 

       Unmistakably, the Ascension was an evangelizing event.  The Apostles were sent out in no uncertain terms to make disciples, to baptize, to teach, to proclaim, to bear witness, to continue the work of the Father and the work of Christ.  Pope Benedict XVI happily acknowledged the Church’s “missionary mandate” to announce the Gospel to every creature when he visited the basilica of St. Paul-Outside-the-Walls the day after his installation.  “The Church by her nature is missionary,” the new Pontiff declared, “her primary task is evangelization.”  Then his Holiness wisely noted that evangelization starts afresh “from Christ contemplated in prayer.”   The light of Christ’s truth will be radiated to all chiefly through the holiness of each disciple.  Benedict XVI quotes his 5^th century namesake who advised, “prefer nothing to the love of Christ.”  Like St. Benedict and like St. Paul, the successful missionary must first make Christ the very center of his own life and only then embark on sharing the good news with others.  Those who wish to take seriously the mandate of Christ to make disciples of all nations must start by becoming a fully committed disciple of Christ himself through prayer.  As St. Luke advised the eager Apostolic band: “Remain here in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.”   The modern missionary’s inner spiritual vigor learned at prayer will prove the greatest resource in spreading the faith to others.     COMPLETE.

       The joyful election of Pope Benedict XVI to the Office of Peter has renewed a provocative discussion in the local media regarding the seminal truths of our Catholic faith. The basic question concerns the deposit of faith, the framework entrusted by Christ to the Apostles and their successors within which the Christian community must carry on the work of Christ.  How much or how little may Christine doctrine change?  Some Catholics, like Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza recently quoted in the local press, would exchange the hierarchical nature of the Church for a “discipleship of equals.”  Thomas Groome, a name big in catechetical circles, advocates change when he writes that “the exclusion of women from the ordained ministry is the result of a patriarchal mind-set and culture and is not of Christian faith.”  Another contemporary theologian, Father Charles Curran, proposes that issues of faith like the Holy Trinity and the Divinity of Christ are established and irrevocable but moral issues like divorce, contraception, and homosexuality are evolving and open to debate.  Some Catholics want the Church to be more influenced by the signs of the times than by apostolic precedent.  Certainly some things are arguable within the Church:  Exactly how are the unbaptized saved by Christ?  Did Mary actually die before she was assumed into heaven?  Is any war ever just?  Genuine Catholic tradition happily admits the growth and maturity of foundational truths just as long as the basic legacy remains unaltered. 

       Appropriately, the notion of a deposit of faith is not new.  St. Paul tells his disciple Timothy to “guard the deposit” (1 Tim 6:20) and again, “guard the noble deposit” (2 Tim 1:14).  In the 5^th century, St. Vincent of Lerins compares the development of doctrine to the maturing of the child into adulthood.  Cardinal Newman was led to the Roman Catholic Church through his consideration of “developments which did not undo previous advances.”  As one might expect, Vatican Council I denied that essential Church doct