The Quiet Corner,

Castlepetroso, Molise, Italy

a weekly meditation on the Sunday Gospel,

by the Reverend John A. Kiley,

as published in The Providence Visitor

since 1974.

       The ponderings of Father Joseph D. Creedon, pastor of Christ the King Church in Kingston, and the musings of the Quiet Corner rarely coincide.  Father’s occasional Visitor columns and the Corner’s weekly reflections have about as much in common as the National Catholic Reporter has with the Wanderer . Nonetheless a hearty approval must be given to Father’s recent Visitor article endorsing First Communion at a regularly scheduled Sunday Mass.  Some parishes, perhaps out of convenience, perhaps due to congestion, plan First Communion liturgies on a Saturday morning or at some other exceptional time.  And this is not necessarily new.  Old timers at Sacred Heart Church in Pawtucket remembered making their First Communion on Ascension Thursday and then meeting in the lower church for breakfast – while their parents went off to work. 

       Anyone who takes seriously the meaning and significance of Sunday would have to agree that the first day of the week is the ideal occasion to gather around the table of the Lord and participate in the Holy Sacrifice fully for the first time.  In spite of the cultural shift from Sunday to the weekend that Western civilization has experienced over the last half century, Sunday is still the Lord’s Day for Christians.  Every Sunday is a mini-paschal mystery experience in which the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are celebrated and assimilated, not just by the individual Christian rapt in prayer, but by the whole Christian community assembled for worship.  The Christian community literally becomes Church on Sunday mornings as clergy and laity, ministers and ministered, gather to hear the Word and to break the Bread.  Religious education, family ministry, neighborhood outreach, community building, world peace, social justice – these are all worthy, Catholic objectives.  But in the final analysis, the weekly sacramental offering of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass to the Father for the salvation of the world is the heart of Catholicism.  Celebrating First Communion at a Sunday parish Mass therefore, as Father Creedon rightly insists, welcomes the parish children not only to the table of the Lord but to the very experience of Church with all the personal, communal, sacramental, hierarchical, and catholic dimensions to be discovered there.  A child’s First Holy Communion is indeed the reception of the Eucharistic Body of Christ but it is also a deeper incorporation into the Mystical Body of Christ.  The First Communicant is one with Christ but also one with his or her brothers and sisters throughout the Catholic world worshipping the Father through Christ’s saving Body and Blood.  Sunday is the ideal day to accentuate these profound experiences.

       Lest the reader conclude that the Corner has completely renounced its reactionary ways, exception is still taken to Fr. Creedon’s remarks on First Communion attire and on First Communion family participation.  It is certainly true that First Communicants are often dressed to resemble miniature brides and grooms on this special day.  Such over-emphasis on attire is unfortunate and misguided.  Yet, an abuse should not eliminate a use.  Special clothing is a symbolic way of celebrating a special occasion.  Eliminating white dresses for the girls and navy blue suits for the boys would indicate business as usual.  And First Holy Communion is not business as usual.  (Napoleon said it was the most important day of his life.)  Dressing up for church – even over-dressing on occasion – says a great deal about what a congregation believes is being transacted there. 

       And children receiving Communion with their families instead of as a distinct group?  Nowadays a pastor must honestly consider that most family members will not have been to confession in decades, many will be in second marriages, some will have live-in companions, several will be non-Catholic, and a few will not know the host from an oysterette.  Inviting people to approach the altar en masse clearly places them on the spot and certainly robs the sacrament of the deep significance it should have for the First Communicants.  Routinely emptying out the family pew diminishes the unique dispositions necessary for the fruitful reception of the sacrament.  Communion is always an occasion where an informed conscience not an eager usher should be one’s guide.  Sunday is indeed a special day to make one’s First Communion and everything else about that day should be special as well.            COMPLETE

       There are so many references to the desert in the Bible that most Christians probably imagine the entire Old and New Testaments being acted out in a sea of sand dunes reminiscent of the American southwest.  The area around the Dead Sea would no doubt be interchangeable with the territory around Death Valley in the minds of most believers.  Actually in the Bible the word desert is synonymous with the word wilderness.  Moses and his sojourners marched through the woods just as much as they trekked through sand.  And Jesus withdrew to the countryside perhaps more often than he in fact sought out the desert.  So thinking of the Biblical lands as being an endless summer at Scarborough Beach can be misleading. 

       The Holy Land, like California and like Portugal, is very clearly divided into a lush, green, woodsy north and an arid, golden, sandy south.  Galilee is to the Holy Land what the red wood forests are to California or what Braga is to Portugal.  Galilee is as green as Ireland.  Judea, on the other hand, could easily absorb California’s Palm Springs or Yuma City and Portugal’s Algarve without any climate changes whatsoever.  It is vitally important then when reading this Sunday’s Gospel on the multiplication of the loaves to realize that the incident is taking place in verdant Galilee not sultry Judea.  It is no accident that the Evangelist observes: “Now there was much grass in that place.”  Wisely does St. John insist on a luxuriant northern location for Christ’s famous act of benevolence since everything about this miracle speaks of abundance, generosity, largesse and plenty. 

       First of all, the crowd is very large – well over ten thousand persons if women and children are included.  The season is Passover, a celebratory time filled with fond memories of the kindly deliverance from Egypt, the providential passage through the Red sea and the Sinai wilderness, and finally the arrival at the Promised land.  The crowd’s mood is therefore festive.  Note also the contrast between the need (two hundred days’ wages worth of food) and the supply at hand (five loaves, two fish).  The disparity would be absurd if Jesus did not have the very charity of God Himself at his disposal.  Accordingly there was “as much as they wanted,” and they all “had their fill.”  Even the leftovers were impressive.  They “filled twelve wicker baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves.”  In a world, not unlike our own, in which the mass of humanity was often destitute, despised, and disparaged, Christ’s multiplication of the loaves for the crowd is a compelling instruction on the wideness and wealth of God’s mercy.

       It is helpful if the miracle of the loaves in the wilderness is read along with the miracle of the wine at the wedding.  Both Gospel narratives are tales of God’s magnificence.  God not only thinks great things (magnanimous), God also does great things (magnificence).  Cana has a deliberate aura of excess. As with the loaves, God does not know restraint.  The crowd at the wedding also was large.  They drank freely and happily.  Jesus kindly transforms bland water into an abundance (six twenty-five gallon jugs) of tasty wine.  And tasty it was!  “You’ve saved the best wine until now!” the surprised steward remarks joyously. 

       First wine at a wedding and then bread in the wilderness become symbols of God’s bounty.  Jesus’ liberality in both instances speaks of the loving kindness of God toward his people.  Certainly the Christian believer cannot help but link these twin miracles of abundance with the Eucharist.  If God were generous to the crowds and thoughtful towards the bride and groom, then certainly he is more than generous in sharing his own inner life through the consecrated bread and wine, the very Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, lavished on mankind through the Eucharist.  Enough bread to feed thousands and enough wine to please a village are just glimpses of the goodness and kindness of God made richly available to every believer through participation at Mass and the reception of Holy Communion.

       “O Sacred Banquet, in which Christ is consumed, the memory of his Passion is recalled, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given.”  What the angelic doctor celebrated in song, Jesus Himself foreshadowed by his generous gifts of miraculous food and drink.          COMPLETE

     Two friends, two cousins and I visited Italy this summer primarily to seek out the native village of my cousins’ paternal ancestors.  Sant’Angelo in Grotte, the seat of the Mucciarone family, located high in the Apennines, is a delightful medieval fortress of white walls, tile roofs and narrow alleys, whose progeny are now spread to the United States and even to Australia.  The culture of Florence, the waterways of Venice and the bustle of Rome filled in the remainder of our time in if not the cradle at least the highchair of civilization and Christianity.  Several observations struck me as I wandered in and out of countless churches in this culturally very Catholic country. 

       First of all the great Italian devotion to the saints is unmistakable.  Saints Mary, John the Baptist, Peter and Paul, Francis, Anthony and Dominic, Rita, Barbara, Catherine, and Claire, Lawrence, Sebastian and Alexander, Alphonsus Liguori, John Bosco, and Therese of Lisieux – to name but a very few – grace side altars and museum walls alike as a tribute to the Italian attachment to these ancestors in the faith.  Some would unkindly dismiss this appreciation of the saints as misguided:  God alone should be the subject of our prayers.  Rather I perceived the presence of a real fellowship with the saints.  The saints are simply successful Christians who have received the call of God and have eagerly responded to him.  The saints are not only models of faith through their belief in the divine and the supernatural nor are they only models of charity through their kind deeds.  The saints are emblems of hope for us all.  In the midst of life’s struggles, whether they be the traffic of Rome or the challenge of suffering or the fragility of relationships or the uncertainty of economics, a visit to an Italian parish church is an overwhelming reminder that our forebears in the faith have “been there, done that” and still have been successful in the Christian life.  The saints are not only our mentors and our models, they are our motivation and our hope.

       Secondly, anyone taking a breather from the excitement of Rome’s streets by ducking into a church cannot help but notice the surprising number of confessionals that line the walls.  Elaborate pieces of Baroque furniture that these confessionals often are, they remind the visitor that at some point in Catholic history believers had keen consciences.  Their sins bothered them and they were grateful for forgiveness and reconciliation.  Sadly, confessionals are today no more used in Italy than they are in the USA.  But they remain an evocative symbol of a generation of believers that took the moral law and ecclesial responsibilities seriously.  Maybe these ancestors in the faith sinned just as brazenly as any modern Catholic.  But they didn’t dismiss or ignore or deny their sins as so often happens today.  They admitted their faults, confessed their sins and experienced reconciliation, healing and peace.  In one of Pope John Paul II’s last instructions, the pontiff encouraged priests regarding the ready availability and easy accessibility to the sacrament of Penance for the faithful.  Even though the confessionals of Rome are often empty of both confessors and penitents, their simple presence is a visible reminder of this important sacrament.  Repentance, forgiveness and healing are still vital parts of the Christian experience and the modern Church should be encouraging all to recapture the authentic spirit of contrition and amendment that recharges the spiritual life.

       Finally every visitor to Rome nowadays is bound to seek out the final resting place of Pope John Paul II.   His brightly lit and unadorned tomb is regularly surrounded by the faithful, praying, kneeling, gazing, photographing.  It is a heartwarming sight.  But sadly, one niche down from the late Pontiff’s tomb is the final resting place of Pope Paul VI.  Pope Paul’s pink marble vault is quite attractive but his remains are painfully ignored.  No flash bulbs light this alcove.  No pilgrimage ends here.  Certainly Pope John Paul II deserves all the attention that he is getting.  When his theological teachings are fully studied, he will no doubt become the object of even greater appreciation.  But to disregard Paul VI is to ignore perhaps the twentieth century’s most courageous papal decision: the resounding affirmation of life that he authored in Humanae Vitae.  Conjugal love must always remain “open to the transmission of life.”  His words have proven difficult.  But they have also become prophetic as disdain for life escalates from contraception, to sterilization, to abortion, to embryonic cell research, to infanticide, to assisted suicide, to mercy killing, to divorce, to single parenthood, to same-sex marriage, and to assorted other violations of the sanctity of life and the sacredness of marriage.  The contemporary Church might ignore Pope Paul VI’s tomb without any compunction but a failure to heed his words will inevitably lead to many more regrets.  COMPLETE

       Visitor devotees looking for some end of summer reading will do well to turn their attention to a trio of recent books that focus on the social issues of the day.  It Takes a Family by Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum, contrasts the “No-Fault Freedom” of today’s liberal society exalting individual choice with the “Social Capital” of former years that embraced the common good of family, church, and community, the source of America’s strength.  Like any politician, Senator Santorum is not without controversy.  Nonetheless, this book with its chapters on family life, economics, the current moral environment, modern popular culture and educational planning could have been written by a Pennsylvania churchman instead of their senator.  It is a very sensible analysis of today’s American society.

       An equally sensible but less sensitive examination of the current state of American affairs is Ann Coulter’s The Church of Liberalism: GODLESS.  Columnist and newscast celebrity, Miss Coulter’s irreverent but perceptive assessment of contemporary American society employs a catechism-like technique illustrating how modern American liberalism has truly become a religion.  American Liberalism has its sacrament, namely abortion.  It has its martyrs, like Willie Horton.  It can claim infallibility through the utterances of sobbing hysterical women like Cindy Sheehan.  Its priests are public school teachers.  Its creation myth is evolution and its Bible is Darwinism.  To the reader already convinced that the world is going to hell in a handbasket, Miss Coulter’s scorn simply seals the world’s fate.  Her abundance of persuasive statistics is compelling and her equally plentiful sarcasm toward celebrities and politicians is laugh-out-loud funny. In a book that does not pretend to be scholarly, the information available is truly enlightening.  The facts behind the Scopes/Monkey trial, the kid-glove handling of the AIDS crisis, a lengthy survey of evolution as popularly understood, even comments on stem-cell research, are pointedly presented.  Coulter is merciless in discussing Michael Moore, John Murtha, Joseph Wilson, and the 9/11 widows.  She even suggests that Al Frankin is the evolutionist’s best bet for a missing link.  Mocking tone aside, Coulter’s statistics will give pause to any civic minded believer.

       With a much less controversial background than either the Senator or the columnist, David Kupelian has written The Marketing of Evil, outlining “how radicals, elitists and pseudo-experts sell us corruption disguised as freedom.”  Kupelian investigates such burning contemporary issues as gay rights, Church-State separation, sexual liberation, multiculturalism, marriage, public schools, the media, abortion, and Christianity in America.  The author’s wise deductions might well guide the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops.  Well-founded, level-headed and common-sensical are the tributes this newsman’s work deserves.  For example, commenting that getting out of a marriage is easier than getting out of a cell-phone contract, Kupelian writes:  In truth, there is no genuine civil marriage in America anymore.  The contract part of the marriage contract is nonexistent.  After all, how can two parties enter into a contract, and yet either party has the power to end that contract at any time, for any reason, whether or not the other party agrees?  Obviously there never was a true contract, a binding agreement, in the first place.”   Mr. Kupelian concludes his study by a strong exhortation for America to recapture an authentic conscience.  He argues that one can discern right from wrong and love from license if he will take sufficient time to reflect inwardly and reject fashionable trends – clearly a step in the right direction.

       Clearly our parents and grandparents knew and lived the truths prized by these three writers.  They knew that marriage was indissoluble, church attendance was mandatory, homosexuality was unnatural, extra-marital sex was shameful, abortion was a crime, evolution was only a theory, and Western Civilization represented a high point in human history.   Now, alas, our grandchildren must sadly re-invent the cultural wheel.  But they are not alone.  While papal documents are not as entertaining as Ann Coulter’s snippy observations, the insights of Popes Paul, John-Paul and Benedict present a formidable justification of the Judaeo-Christian tradition which the authors above all defend but which today’s liberal secularists are eager to dismantle.          COMPLETE

       Shortly after Pope Benedict XVI was installed as chief shepherd of the Church, he convoked a synod of bishops instructing them, among other things, that “the Eucharist can be considered a lens through which the face and path of the Church can be seen."   In considering the Eucharist, the faithful can learn certainly about Jesus but also about themselves and their destiny before God. 

       Even a casual glance at the Eucharist brings to mind the notion of nourishment.  The appearance of bread and wine which remains even after the Consecration clearly leads one to see the Eucharist as food and drink.  The Body and Blood of Jesus Christ truly strengthen and sustain the pilgrim people of God on their road to salvation.  Participation in the Eucharist, then, is not meant to be an infrequent event.  It is the daily bread of the faithful, renewing and refreshing them along the path of faith. 

       The Eucharist, however, is not merely food and drink for the individual believer.  The Eucharist is fully a meal at which all the brothers and sisters of Christ gather around the Lord’s Table and draw closer to one another while drawing closer to Him.  So the Eucharist not only fortifies the individual, the sacrament also builds community, directing worshippers to be mindful of the poor and needy, the alien and the abandoned, for whom Christ also died.

       The Holy Eucharist also looks beyond this world with its legitimate personal and corporate needs to the world to come.  “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has life eternal, and I will raise him on the last day,” Jesus instructs his followers, thus making a direct link between Holy Communion and the Resurrection.  It is after all the risen and glorified Christ who enters the heart of the believer when the Body and Blood of Christ are consumed at Mass.   The habitual presence and power of the Risen Christ conforms the soul more and more to the same heavenly glory which vivifies Jesus.  The power of Resurrection is enjoyed right here and now, advancing day by day toward the fullness of eternal glory.

       The Eucharist not only looks to the present and the future, the Sacred Meal also looks to the past, to that solemn moment when Jesus Christ Himself instituted this noble sacrament.  Every Mass re-creates the sacred scene in which Jesus Christ “took bread, said the blessing, broke the bread and gave it to this disciples.”  Every Mass faithfully repeats the action of Christ.  Christ invites, Christ presides, Christ consecrates, Christ distributes. There is an unbroken continuity with the Mass celebrated daily in our parish churches and that first Mass celebrated in the Upper Room on that fateful Holy Thursday night. 

       The man and woman of faith will see not only the nourishment and meal aspects of the Eucharist.  The true believer will also appreciate the sacrificial nature of the Mass.  The Mass is not merely a reminder of the past.  The Mass truly renews the past by making the sacrifice of Jesus Christ upon the Cross present to the faithful once again.  To the eye of faith, the Mass clearly makes present again the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ as at the very moment of his death.  The Body and Blood of Jesus Christ sacramentally separated on our Catholic altars bespeak death.  The Body is given; the Blood is shed – when else did that occur except on Calvary, on Good Friday?  The Mass is a true sacrifice, a true offering of the genuine Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.  And through the Mass, the dedication, the commitment, the fidelity of Christ made vivid on Calvary is shared with every believer.  Through the Body and Blood of Christ, Christians are themselves fashioned into a sacrifice offered to the Father in union with Christ. 

       The crowning glory of the Eucharist, its greatest insight, is the conviction that what appears to be Bread and Wine is really the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ.  This belief is beyond symbol, beyond sign, beyond type.  The Eucharist does not just remind the Church of Christ in manifold ways; the Eucharist makes Christ present in a unique way: Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.                   COMPLETE

       On an April morning in 1965, the Most Reverend James Kearney, then bishop of Rochester, New York, wended his way up the aisle of St. Bernard’s Seminary at 6:30 in the morning to ordain a class of forty-four subdeacons.  Vince Maynard and I were the two among that number from the diocese of Providence.  Attended only by our fellow students, the celebration that morning was the simple ferial Mass of the day.  God in His Providence determined that I should be selected to read the Scripture for that day which was taken from the Epistle of St. James, the very passage to be read at Mass this coming Sunday.  The older translation which I would have read then, was, characteristically, more clear and pointed than what will be proclaimed from our pulpits this year.  It read:

            “Religion pure and undefiled before our God and Father is this: to help orphans

             and widows in their tribulation and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.”

      At the time, this reading seemed to summarize the quintessential goals of our nearing priesthood.  Helping orphans and widows was all the rage in 1965.  The New Society, the War on Poverty, Community Action Programs, Model Cities, Caesar Chavez and the grape boycott, Ben Chavis and social justice, Saul Alinsky and community organizing: this would be the world in which we new clerics would be called to minister.  Clearly Christian concern for the needy was not new.  The ancient Jewish church proudly esteemed itself the defender of orphans and widows.  The diaconate was encouraged to look after widows and to tend to the practical charity of every day life.  St. Lawrence, St. Martin of Tours, St. Elizabeth of Hungary, St. Vincent de Paul and St. Peter Claver, among many, many others, distinguished themselves by their genuine concern and practical goodwill toward the disadvantaged of their day.  And, on a more systematic level, the instructions of pontiffs like Leo XIII on social justice must not be overlooked.  Practical charity has always been an integral part of church life.

       Be that as it may, to define religion simply in terms of practical compassion is a bit of an understatement.  St. James, with an eye to the old time religion in which he was raised with its emphasis on good deeds, was no doubt somewhat chagrined at the new emphasis on the primacy of faith that St. Paul and the Galatian community were favoring.  The  Pauline accent on faith was a bit too “pie in the sky” for the practical St. James.  The proof of religion is in its humanity, mused the sensible St. James.  After all, Jesus himself inclined in this direction when he inexorably linked the love of God and the love of neighbor as the twin commandments of the law.  Religion without compassion would be just as void as religion without belief.  Such religion would be a mere formality, a mere ritual, a mere ceremony.

       Jesus understood however the dangers of a religion that exalted exterior works at the expense of interior commitment.  In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus excoriates the Jews for their impeccable but superficial observance of the old Jewish Law.  The many laws of the Old Testament were meant to guide and strengthen the Jewish believer in his journey toward union with God.  Alas, the Law became an end in itself.  The Jews kept it but they forgot why they were keeping it.  “These people honor me with their lips but their heart is far from me,” remarks Jesus as he laments the outward correctness but inner emptiness that had overtaken his fellow countrymen.  Caring for orphans and widows was insufficient if it did not reflect a corresponding concern for fellowship with the Divine. 

       The Council of Trent would respectfully amplify the message of St. James centuries later when it taught that “faith is the root and foundation all justification.”  But the same Council would gladden the Apostle’s heart when it reminded its constituents that the final proof of knowing God (faith) is the keeping of his Commandments (works).  True faith prompts authentic charity which then matures into practical compassion.        COMPLETE

       Daniel C. Maguire is a tenured professor of moral theology at Marquette University, a Jesuit institution.  He is the author of Sacred Choices: The Right to Contraception and Abortion in Ten World Religions.   His thoughts on this critical topic were recently published in the widely read USA TODAY.  Professor Maguire wrote:  The major world religions are pluralistic on abortion, with some authorities permitting abortion and some forbidding it.   Roman Catholicism:  The popes have taught that abortion is always forbidden, and the church hierarchy has held to a doctrine that strongly opposes it. Even so, grounds for permitting abortion exist in the Catholic tradition, and many Catholic theological authorities permit abortion in a variety of situations. There is even a pro-choice Catholic saint, the 15th century archbishop of Florence, St. Antoninus. He approved of early abortions when needed to save the life of the mother, a huge category in his day. There is thus no one Catholic view.

       Apparently readers of USA TODAY were not the only ones to take note of Professor Maguire’s views on abortion and other moral topics.  The Archbishop of Milwaukee, the Most Reverend Timothy Dolan, in whose archdiocese Marquette University is located, felt compelled to speak out on the professor’s misleading public remarks.  Archbishop Dolan wrote that Professor Maguire “…has dramatically dissented from clear church teaching for decades. After my arrival here four years ago, I sought counsel as to whether or not I should publicly warn the faithful about his erroneous opinions. Voices I considered wise advised me that this was not necessary, since the great majority of our people already recognize his views as clearly inconsistent with legitimate Catholic teaching.  Regrettably, he recently has widely distributed two pamphlets claiming that, as preposterous as I know it sounds, abortion and same-sex marriage are consistent with Catholic teachings. Because of the response generated among shocked and thoughtful people in the archdiocese, I feel obliged to exercise my teaching responsibilities and say such positions are blatantly erroneous and contrary to the clear teaching of the church. To claim the acceptability of such opinions is simply wrong and disingenuous.

       Catholics who follow Church politics and Church pranks are sadly accustomed to farcical headlines.  Women ordaining themselves on Ohio River steam boats, pastors squandering funds at seaside resorts, Georgetown University curiously expelling Protestant campus groups, anti-capital punishment religious sister dis-invited to a speaking engagement due to her call for the President’s impeachment, Catholic agencies referring orphans to same-sex couples, and so forth and so on.   Sometimes Catholic antics border on the ludicrous, let alone the disingenuous.  Now more than ever, serious Catholics have to go about their business with one eye closed.  Between the scandals and the shenanigans, the sensitive soul could easily loose heart. 

       In times like these Catholics must be reminded that ‘faith is the substance of things to be hoped for, the evidence for things unseen.”   It is precisely when Catholics do not see the hand of God in some daily Church events that they need to recall that the foundation of the Christian life is not a series of clear and compelling successes, but rather the challenge to believe against all odds.  The Cross was a scandal.  The ineptitude of the apostles and disciples was unsettling.  The Roman persecutions, the barbarian invasions, the unfortunate Crusades, the tragic Reformation, the Enlightenment, Modernism, and Secularism have challenged the Church and scarred the Church in succeeding ages.  Yet the authentic Christian community endures buoyed up by the authentic Christian faith.  It is when the challenges of being a loyal Catholic prove burdensome or even embarrassing that believers must recall that “God choose those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom.”    One day everything will fall into place:  “Then will the eyes of the blind be opened, the ears of the deaf be cleared; then will the lame leap like a stag, then the tongue of the mute will sing.  Streams will burst forth in the desert, and rivers in the steppe.  The burning sands will become pools, and the thirsty ground, springs of water,” insists Isaiah.   An authentic and enduring Catholic faith is the happy triumph that overcomes the world.       COMPLETE.

       It’s not just used car dealers and kitchen appliance salesmen who might use the old bait and switch technique to attract clients.  Offering an item at a price that is too good to be true – air conditioners for a hundred bucks or computers for less than four hundred – and then talking the docile customer into a more lucrative sale has long been a prohibited sales tactic. Perhaps St. Mark was not aware of this restriction when he composed his Gospel.  With all due respect, bait and switch is exactly the device employed by the evangelist to attract his readership to Jesus Christ and then to reveal to them a deeper and more challenging view of the Messiah. 

        The confession of St. Peter, which constitutes this coming Sunday’s Gospel, is situated at the dead center of St. Mark’s Gospel:  eight chapters precede it and eight chapters follow it.  The first eight chapters lure prospective converts with attractive tales of astonishing miracles, powerful sermons and bold confrontations.  The second eight chapters deal clearly and conversely with Jesus the suffering servant.   In these later eight chapters Jesus courageously and sadly predicts his own Passion three times.  He surprises his audience not with astounding feats but with predictions of betrayal, flaying, crucifixion, and death.  He stuns his followers not with powerful speeches but with challenging strategies of cross bearing and self-denial.  He intrigues his disciples less with incidents of healing and more with pledges of redemptive suffering.  Jesus the wonderworker, the superstar, the celebrity, was a Scriptural come-on; Jesus the suffering servant is the real article. 

       If modern man is surprised at this, St. Peter, Jesus’ devoted friend, was no less flabbergasted that Jesus, his hero, was also to be Jesus, his savior.  The chief of the apostles found this demanding revelation a stumbling block in his spiritual journey.  Sadly, after two thousand years, Jesus the celebrity still appeals more than Jesus the redeemer.   St. Mark, after all, did paint a compelling portrait of Jesus the commanding prophet.  Consider the thirty-four references to Jesus’ power over the demons – more than any other Gospel.  Remember the dramatic cure of the paralytic lowered through the roof tiles.  Recall those two thousand swine cascading down the hill side into the sea.  Think of Jairus’ daughter raised from her childhood deathbed.  Visualize Jesus walking on the water in the early morning hours.  Imagine that most popular of all miracles – the multiplication of the loaves.  And don’t forget those humble souls who stretched out their palsied hands just to touch the tassel of his cloak.  This is the Jesus with whom St. Peter felt comfortable.  This is the Christ that the chief of the apostle admired.  And now all that is about to crumble. 

       Ponder carefully the startling words of Jesus to St. Peter and to the crowds: 

He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly and be rejected

by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and rise after three days. 

He spoke this openly.  Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.  At this he

turned around and, looking at his disciples, rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me,

Satan.  You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”  He summoned

the crowd with his disciples and said to them, “Whoever wishes to come after me must

deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.  For whoever wishes to save his life will

lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and that of the gospel will save it.”

Is it any wonder that a disbelieving St. Peter stood there with his mouth agape and his eyebrows raised?  The naïve disciples were simply not prepared for this development.  Indeed, the prophets had predicted a suffering messiah.  Isaiah wrote of the Christ’s beaten back, roughened cheeks, buffeted face and spit-laden loss of dignity.  Still, no one was prepared.  The Church continues to prepare believers for the deeper significance of Christ and his ministry.  Christianity is not all miracles, eloquence and triumphs.  Christianity is equally, and more deeply, sacrifice, suffering and self-denial.  This is still a tough sell even among Christ’s friends.                                                                                                    COMPLETE

       One of the opening prayers at Mass during the year invokes God to “restore the joy of our youth.”  This collect always evokes thoughts on how the joy experienced in our youth might differ from the joy experienced at any other time in a Christian’s life.  Perhaps the word “youth” is somewhat misleading.  Modern society distinguishes among infants, children, youths, adults and the elderly.  Ancient societies, in which life was much briefer, did not have the privilege of extending life’s stages over several decades.  Ancient society knew only children and adults.  So the joy of youth was not the party scene that modern society might associate with teenage and college age activity.  The joy of youth in the ancient world was strictly the joy of children – the joy of little ones who were clearly and happily dependent on their parents for food, clothing, shelter and instruction.  Children take it for granted that Mom and Dad will be there to provide for them, to protect them, to promote their interests.  Childhood – ideally anyway – is a carefree existence of playing ball, eating ice cream, reading comics, visiting grandma and being tucked into bed.  Childhood is not always that idyllic but it should be.  And this is the manner in which the Scriptures look fondly upon the child as the model of the Christian.  The child is confident that Mom and Dad are always there to provide and protect.  The authentic Christian is likewise confident that God the Father is there to provide and protect the believing soul on his pilgrimage to eternity. 

       As the twelve apostles argue in this Sunday’s Gospel about which of them is the greatest, Jesus sternly re-defines for his disciples what true greatness entails.  From the natural human point of view, greatness consists in great beauty, great wealth, or great power.  Our contemporary society is particularly enamored of the beautiful people who populate the world of cinema, television, sports and supermarket tabloids.  The modern world is equally fascinated by material abundance, lavish estates, even flashy cars.  And among today’s most recognized names are those associated with corporations, politics and finance.  Greatness in the modern world – as in the ancient world – means an abundance of physical strength, material resources, and social influence.  Greatness implies total self-sufficiency, total resourcefulness, total independence.

       Jesus however has other thoughts about the nature of greatness.  The Master’s thoughts are rooted deeply in the Old Testament.  They are found frequently in the words of Isaiah.  And they are discovered again today in the first reading at Mass from the Book of Wisdom.  Isaiah and the author of the Wisdom books as well as Jesus in his lifetime reveal that true greatness does not consist in independence but rather precisely in dependence.  The truly great person is the person who admits and even embraces his ultimate reliance upon God for everything that is critical in life.  The suffering servant in Isaiah as well as the persecuted soul in the Book of Wisdom and certainly Jesus in his passion are all individuals who are deprived of all beauty, all resources, all influence.  The powers of this world thus dismiss the just man:  “Let us condemn him to a shameful death…”  But in the mind of Christ, such worldly deprivation is the fertile ground in which confidence in God and trust in his promises can take root and flourish.

       Anticipating the teachings of Jesus on true greatness, the Psalmist also proclaims that reliance on Divine power rather than human muscle is the secret of greatness.  The Psalmist sings: “For the haughty men have risen up against me, the ruthless seek my life; they set not God before their eyes.  Behold, God is my helper; the Lord sustains my life.”   The Psalmist contrasts those haughty men who trust in their own insights with the just man who understands that God is his true help and his true sustenance.   These words reflect exactly the thoughts of the Book of Wisdom: “…for according to his own words, God will take care of him…”  It is this childlike, almost naïve, trust in the power of God rather than the clout of man that marks the great soul in the teachings of Christ.  The believer who takes the Fatherhood of God as seriously as the child takes the presence of Mom and Dad is the one who will prove great in the final, eternal analysis.  The unbridled ambition revealed in the Twelve Apostles and notably condemned in today’s reading from St. James is not the source of true greatness.  Rather absolute and unconditional trust in God’s personal providence for each believer is the sole source of authentic greatness.  Such confidence truly restores  “...the joy of our youth.”        

COMPLETE

       Apparently there was confusion in the ancient Jewish church regarding the nature of leadership.  The people managed to acknowledge Moses as their leader but found it difficult to accept that Moses was willing to share his ministry of leadership with other members of the community.  The ancient Jews were scandalized when the gift of prophecy burst forth among the elders of the community.  Moses disagreed.  “Would that all my people were prophets!” proclaimed a very egalitarian Moses.

       Even after thirty-five hundred years of revelation, the nature of leadership in the Christian community continues to elude people.  Certainly this confusion is evident in the role of the clergy in church life.  Protestants have traditionally expected their clergy to be preachers.  The pulpit dominates any Protestant sanctuary.  Catholics on the other hand have expected that their clergymen will be priests, offering the Holy Sacrifice day after day.  The altar still holds pride of place in a Catholic Church.  The last half century saw a further development as some congregations expected their clergy to be neither preachers nor priests but social activists.  In some circles the clergy became change agents -- on rare occasions even running for office.  So what’s a Catholic cleric to do?  Should he be a preacher, a priest, or a politician?

       The Council of Trent clearly envisioned a sacrificing priesthood.   Certainly this was in distinction to the Protestant belief which exalted the biblical Word of God over the Eucharistic Body of Christ.  The Second Vatican Council on the other hand plainly spoke of the priesthood in terms of effective preaching.  In its decree on the priesthood issued in 1965 the Council taught that priests “…have as their primary duty the proclamation of the Gospel of God to all.”   Since then, ironically, a number of priests have understood their vocations in terms of neither sacrifice nor preaching, but rather in terms of social activism.  In the late twentieth century, the up-to-the-minute priest coveted neither the pulpit nor the altar but the picket line.  As the new century began however, a Vatican congregation reminded priests of the fullness of their vocation in a letter addressed to the priest as “teacher of the word, minister of the sacraments and leader of the community.”  All three missions – prophet, priest, and public servant – are integral to the authentic Catholic priesthood.

       Consider Jesus Christ.  Indeed he was an effective preacher.  His Sermon on the Mount, his parables, his comments on Scripture, left his audiences with “hearts burning within.”  And Jesus was a priest, the great high priest.  Certainly he did not offer bulls and goats in the Temple but he did offer his own Body and Blood on the Cross and instituted rites that would perpetuate this redemptive sacrifice down through the ages.  And Jesus was as well a public servant concerned about poverty and riches, about oppression and charity, about morality and peace.  Since the Catholic priesthood is the continuation of the one priesthood of Jesus Christ, the ordained priest must embrace and exemplify all of these same qualities.

       A modern day priest could not be a truly effective preacher unless he appreciated also the sacramental and social aspects of the Christian life.  A preacher is not a lecturer proclaiming something he read in a book.  A priest must be a prophet who knows whereof he speaks.  His mentality cannot be separated from his spirituality.  Furthermore his mentality and his spirituality cannot be at odds with his daily vitality.  Life issues must concern the priest just as much as eloquence and liturgy do.  Scripture and tradition, sacraments and prayer, parish life and social issues – Bible, Mass and the daily paper – are the pillars that support an effective priesthood just as they are the pillars that support the life of any serious Christian.  Diverse personalities will incline toward preaching or toward prayer or toward public service in varying degrees.  But the prophetic, priestly and populist roles of Jesus Christ may never be abandoned by the authentic priest and must remain the ideal of every priest during his entire ministry.  A fractured priesthood is not in the service of Jesus Christ and his church.   The fullness of the priestly vocation witnesses to all three dimensions of ministry: prophet, priest, and public servant.     COMPLETE

       Marsha and Portnoy journeyed from Oklahoma to attend her brother’s wedding celebration at the Butterfly Garden in New York’s Bronx Zoo.  Estelle and Corey asked their priest if their wedding party could wear Venetian masks as they processed down the aisle during their recent nuptials.  Claudette and Michael from Illinois chose the Aldrich Mansion in Warwick for their wedding reception because of its proximity to the sea and then checked the web site of every church in Warwick to determine which one would be acceptable for their religious ceremony.  Steve and Melinda wanted to be married on the beach at Matunick with the outline of Block Island in the background since they had met at Ballard’s Inn on the island a couple of years ago.  The wedding ceremony has clearly replaced the marriage covenant as the dominant concern of many a new bride and groom. 

       Certainly wedding ceremonies have always been major events in the world’s various cultures.  One only has to think of the wedding feast at Cana where the excited guests consumed every last drop of wine.  Jesus himself often compared the exuberant joys of heaven to the high-spirited delights of a wedding banquet.  So weddings are special – and rightly so.  But preparations for a wedding can easily obscure preparation for the later life of total and mutual commitment called marriage.  Actually marriage preparation begins in the cradle from whence individuals are raised in an atmosphere of self-giving and self-sacrifice.  The engagement period is no time to begin reversing two or three decades of self-centering and self-indulgence.  Adulthood cannot be successfully put off until after the vows.   Maturity is something that must be brought into a marriage. 

       Yvette came to the rectory to arrange for a Mass for a deceased relative. Her son and his bride had been married a couple of years previously.  Recently there had been talk of a separation.  “How are Chuck and Maureen getting along?” I inquired leadingly.  “To tell the truth, Father,” she replied, “they are no longer together.”    “Whatever happened,” I asked in genuine disbelief since both young people had been good church goers during their courtship.  “Honestly, Father,” Yvette answered with a tone of resigned exasperation, “they were just two selfish kids who didn’t want to make the sacrifices that go into good marriage.  Life had been too easy for them and they didn’t want to work at it.”  I sense this situation happening in many young and not so young marriages nowadays.

       Young marriages nowadays are no more challenging than the marriages of their parents and grandparents.   But their parents and grandparents did not have the option of a handy divorce to solve their marital difficulties.  Divorce was a scandal, a failure, a defeat and a sin.  Society frowned upon it.  Parents were ashamed of it.  The Church condemned it.  God forbad it.  Couples then found it much easier to work out their marital difficulties rather than the risk the contempt of neighbors and the wrath of God.  Some will argue that spouses remained in deplorable unions for decades when parting would have been a better option.  But it should also be argued that many a couple, in fact, most couples faced their differences realistically and practically, working out their problems in due time.  Society’s rigidity worked to their advantage. 

       Archbishop Sheen frequently observed that there is no such item as the perfectly compatible couple.  Differences, disagreements, and disputes are part and parcel of human life and certainly they are part of a life as intimate as marriage.  So rather than look upon discord as an occasion to part ways, the mature couple will look upon marital difficulties as opportunities to learn more about one another, to re-assess predictable responses, to apologize when necessary, to forgive when  needed.  Jesus speaks in this Sunday’s Gospel of divorce being a result of hardness of heart.  Hard-hearted spouses refused the opportunities for growth that the challenges of marriage presented.  Like Chuck and Maureen, they were too selfish to embrace the sacrifices that make marriage a growth experience.  Some ancient  Jews took the easy way out.  Sad to say, some people are still taking the easy way out.         COMPLETE

       Father Albert A. Kenney, chaplain at LaSalle Academy, and Father Marcel L. Taillon, chaplain at Bishop Hendricken High School, have been in the priestly vocation business for a decade.  Promoting vocations in the parishes and encouraging prospective vocations at Our Lady of Providence Seminary, these priests have made our bishops happy with a measure of success in a challenging field.  Lately they have been joined in their efforts by Father Michael Najim, a young priest who might be called a vocation recruiter.  Besides encountering individual candidates for the priesthood and supporting them in their discernment efforts, Father Najim also visits the many parishes of our diocese preaching on successive weekends on the need to appreciate and foster priestly and religious vocations among our young people.   Father preached recently here at St. Francis Church in Warwick and amid his anecdotes and observations was heard a very instructive phrase.  Father called upon the parish, as well as the church at large, to implement a “culture of vocations” as the key to a renewed and enhanced vocation picture in Rhode Island. 

       That phrase “culture of vocations” should remind many a priest and religious about his or her own initial call to serve the Church.  A culture, an atmosphere, an environment, in which serving God and his people as a priest or a bother or a sister is regarded positively, optimistically and appreciatively is the fertile ground in which religious vocations can flourish.  The priestly and religious life has to be generally prized, esteemed, and applauded if these vocations are to be attractive to the young.  The deference, respect and admiration that young people see accorded toward parish life, toward Catholic education, toward Church leaders and toward the lives of the saints make the priestly or religious life attractive and appealing for the future servant of God.   A culture of vocations is reverence for vocations.

       The Diocese of Providence recently conducted interviews with assorted priests on their thoughts concerning priestly vocations.  One of the questions asked was “What would you do to increase priestly vocations in the diocese?”  My immediate response was, “I would put a religious sister back in every Catholic classroom.”  For those of you who are still reading this column after that remark, here is an explanation.  Whether or not the religious sisters that taught in the classrooms of the ‘40s and ‘50s and into the ‘60s were impressed with the particular priests with whom they served is unknown.  What is known is that these sisters held the priesthood and the religious life in great esteem.  They told their students countless tales of dedicated and heroic priests, of the benefits of prayer, of the need of the sacraments, and of the splendor of the Church.   The nobility of the priestly calling was palpable in those classrooms.  If someone did have a vocation, the supportive atmosphere that permeated the Catholic schools of that era certainly encouraged it.  Home life in those days also encouraged this same “culture of vocations.”  While very few parents were heavy handed when it came to the religious life, the priesthood was nonetheless treated seriously and respectfully.  It was an honor to have a son a priest – even if it meant foregoing grandchildren.  Again the positive tone that resonated throughout Catholic classrooms and Catholic homes and Catholic parishes and Catholic history contributed to the “culture of vocations” which young people needed initially to follow God’s call.

       This Sunday’s Gospel passage is perhaps the most celebrated, if also among the saddest, of vocation stories in Christian literature.  The virtuous but wealthy young man rejected Christ’s invitation to discipleship because he treasured his earthly possessions more than his spiritual possibilities.  When challenged to prefer the things of the next world to the things of this world, the young man shrank from the prospect.  Vocation, grace, service and ministry were not as compelling as comfort, pleasure, prosperity and affluence.  The influence of the material world dulled the voice of the Spirit. A society that has grown deaf to God’s call demands a new “culture of vocations” which will celebrate the Spirit’s impulses.  A “culture of vocations” will relish the dignity, the camaraderie, the service, and the sacrifices that a priestly or religious vocation entails.  A “culture of vocations” will sense the spiritual inclinations of the young and rejoice in their decision to follow Christ.                                                       COMPLETE

       John L. Allen is a writer for the National Catholic Reporter, a popular newspaper with a decidedly liberal bent.  Mr. Allen recently published a book on Opus Dei, an association largely of Catholic laypersons with a more moderate bent.  Opus Dei and the Reporter are rarely mentioned in the same breath so Mr. Allen is to be commended on his even-handed, even positive, analysis of this contemporary Catholic group.  Although priests and even bishops may belong to Opus Dei, the main thrust is the sanctification of daily life in the secular world.  Some Opus Dei members do live together in a community while others, perhaps most, maintain their individual homes just like any other Catholic family.  It is living the Christian life while still very much involved in the world that is the chief charism of this twentieth century Catholic Church phenomenon. In fact Pope John Paul II described St. Josemaria Escriva, the founder of Opus Dei, as "the saint of ordinary life." 

       Mr. Allen wisely observes that Opus Dei espouses the same universal call to holiness that was a cornerstone of the Second Vatican Council.  Holiness is not the prerogative of popes, bishops, priests, and religious alone.  It is true that a glance at a list of Catholic saints might give this impression.  The St. Anthonys and St. Theresas and St. Francis Xaviers in the litany of saints greatly overshadow the handful of lay persons among the canonized.  But lately Opus Dei as well as the Vatican Council and other Catholic organizations like the Catholic Worker Movement have awakened the contemporary Catholic mind to the possibility of living a sanctified life outside the walls of a convent, monastery or cathedral.  Everyone – computer technicians, bank examiners, classroom teachers, homemakers, entertainers – is called to a life of holiness and deserves the support of the Christian community in that quest.

       Although the list of canonized saints is top heavy with religious, Christianity itself has always exalted the spiritual potential of every individual – from the humblest to the foremost.  All three readings for this coming Sunday focus on the priestly quality of every Christian life, that is, on the spiritual capability of even the lowliest believer to offer his life to God on behalf of sinners.  It is easy to appreciate the work of St. Charles Borromeo reforming Milan after the Council of Trent and the sacrifice of St. Maximilian Kolbe in World War II’s death camp and the mystical experiences of St. Gertrude in her cloister.  But the school teacher who prepares a thorough lesson, the chef who is conscientious about his ingredients, the business executive who is systematic and fair can rightly offer these accomplishments to God on behalf of a sinful world and know that society is mysteriously better off for these efforts. 

       In this Sunday’s readings, Isaiah first of all encourages the believer to offer his life’s work to God as a sacrifice for sin: “If he gives his life as an offering for sin, he shall see his descendants in a long life, and the will of the LORD shall be accomplished through him…through his suffering, my servant shall justify many…”   The Letter to the Hebrews reminds all readers of the priestly task of Jesus Christ.  Christ is indeed our “great High Priest” whose priestly ministry, whose work of offering himself to the Father, all believers share through Baptism.  And then the argumentative Apostles become an occasion for Christ to remind his Church that sanctity is expressed through humble service.  The truly great within the Christian community are these who become servants to their brothers and sisters, indeed, those who become the slaves of all.  So the notion of offering one’s life to God is not limited to religious celebrities.  The universal call to holiness means that every believer can lead a worthy life regardless of the external circumstances if only he will offer his daily existence to God on behalf of this world.  For the Christian, all activity becomes redemptive, calling down the grace of God on mankind.

       Although the lives of the saints are often popularly romanticized and glamorized, some of them led very humble existences.  St. Benedict Joseph Labre was literally a street person, a beggar whose only significant contribution to society was his personal faith.  Blessed Andre Bessette was simply a doorkeeper at his monastery in Montreal – hardly a position of influence.  St. Rose of Lima was an eccentric recluse – living in a hut in her back yard.  Yet the Church recognized great meaning in the lives of these people because they offered themselves quietly to God on behalf of mankind.  So no one need be left out of the circle of saints – neither the distinguished nor the disadvantaged.  Each life has significance.     COMPLETE

       My morning flight from Providence to Louisville via Detroit was abruptly cancelled but NorthWest Airlines graciously offered me a taxicab ride to Logan Airport in Boston for an evening flight that would arrive in Kentucky about 8:30pm.  My leisurely afternoon was spent reading, in fact, finishing the book brought along for the trip.  My first order of business in Louisville then was to search out a Barnes & Noble or Borders to secure a new book to occupy idle hours.  The selection of favored biographies was minimal so Pope John Paul II’s last published book, “Rise, Let Us Be On Our Way” was chosen.  And a wise choice it was indeed.  The Pope’s last publication focuses on his years as a bishop, from being auxiliary bishop then archbishop of Krakow to finally being Bishop of Rome.  Yet the Pope’s brief work speaks to the heart of every Catholic because it is basically a book about faith, the Pope’s personal faith and his hearty enjoyment of that faith. 

       Pope John Paul’s faith during his tenure as bishop in Poland was greatly nourished first of all by the very experience of his Episcopal ordination in one of Poland’s ancient cathedrals.  Every sacramental gesture is assessed and cherished.  The prostration, the Book of the Gospels, the clothing with garments, the emblems of office, are all examined and treasured for their sacramental and inspirational significance.  High on the list of faith experiences on which the Pope reflects is the pastoral example of the older bishops with whom he worked.  Their prayerful private lives as well as their public political lives during the Communist era strengthened the young bishop in his own resolve to profess and promote the faith under challenging circumstances.  Once he became archbishop of Poland’s primatial see, he was literally on the road visiting hundreds of parishes (300 out 0f 330) observing the faith of pastors and parishioners alike.   Their faith nourished his faith.  The Pope recounts how touched he was by the lives of Polish saints both old and new.  Some saints he met through this reading; and some saints he actually knew in his lifetime or knew people who had known saints in their lifetime.  Pope John Paul’s interaction with university and seminary personnel as well as with religious priests, brothers and sisters proved very formative in his own faith life.  Probably every bishop could construct a litany of persons and places that have directed his time as shepherd in a diocese.  But Poland being just on the edge of the Western European Church with which most American Catholics are familiar makes all the names and places and events very novel and fresh.  A whole new world of very vibrant if victimized Catholicism awakens amid the pages of the Pope’s recollections.  His own delight in every moment of his work for Christ’s Church is palpable, revealing supernatural faith as a very real and very possible experience for every believer.

       In this coming Sunday’s Gospel, the Church is treated to the example of the blind but courageous Bartimaeus who will not be dismissed by Jesus’ fawning followers but perseveres until he is heard by the Master.  Once his sight is restored the jubilant man springs to his feet and follows Jesus “up the road.”   His faith is manifested by his joy in following Jesus.  Bartimaeus pursues Jesus not out of duty but out of delight.  His is a very happy faith.  The first reading from Jeremiah and the response from psalm 126 anticipate the joy of Bartimaeus.  The Jews who are led back from exile are instructed by the Lord to “shout for joy.”  The psalmist describes the returning exiles with happy words:  “We were like men dreaming.  Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with rejoicing.”  It is this joyous, fulfilling faith that is found in the pages of John Paul’s little book.  The Jews returning from exile and Bartimaeus relieved of his handicap could not contain themselves so real was their faith experience.  Neither can Pope John Paul contain himself as he reviews the signs of living faith in his beloved but besieged Poland.  Of course, it took faith to perceive faith, which is the real lesson for the rest of us who do not live in post-war Poland.  Our own lively faith can lead us to relish the liturgies of our Church, to enjoy the lives of the saints, to appreciate the example of senior believers, to welcome the camaraderie of other believers, to value the work of clergy and religious.  The lively faith that nourished and directed Pope John Paul during his Episcopal years is available to every Catholic.   The Church and its gifts are the birthright of all the baptized, there to be cherished, there to be prized, there to be pondered daily.          COMPLETE