I just received a message from a fellow Xangan that moved me to share with everyone, very briefly, why I have remained on Xanga for nearly ten years now, bearing through the good times and bad, in spite of the intensity of entering a religious order, working hard for my degree in philosophy, and now teaching full-time at a high school (hence the severe lack of updates!).

I cannot share the contents of the message of course, but here’s what I have to say:

 

Brothers and sisters I have remained on Xanga for chiefly these reasons-

 

1. To reach out to and console those who are alone and in pain.

2. To educate people about the Catholic faith, and likewise to encourage those who are Catholic to continue growing in the ancient faith. Coupled with this is the desire to inform misunderstanding, speak out against deliberate misinformation or slander (fortunately a rare thing) and correct error regarding the Church and what she teaches and believes.

3. To pray for those who request prayer, to promise prayer for those who need it, and to pray for those who have no idea I am praying for them.

 

The message I received today, and she likely will know who she is if she reads my blog, made me realize a fourth reason I remain on Xanga.

 

4. Because saints are being made here.

 

Like Xanga, hate Xanga, see it as trash and immaturity or see it as a place for deep discussion and honest revelation of hearts and souls: the Holy Spirit is at work in all of it somehow, and I’ve had such a graced privilege over the years of seeing the inner-workings of His labor in some amazing souls. Messages like today and instances I’ve experienced on Xanga in the past make all the inappropriate language and images, immaturity, trolling, insults, ignorance and all else that sometimes seems to take over Xanga completely worthwhile.

God bless all of you, and please take to heart with all seriousness that I do, really, love all of you very, very much, and that I pray for every single one of you in one way or another, many of you by name, every single day.

 

Sincerely and most humbly, 

 

Ancient_Scribe

 

Today on the Feast of the Queenship of Mary I offer a series of paired Scripture readings–one from each Testament–to help us reflect on Mary’s special role in our Christian life, a role that was foreshadowed in the Old Testament and sees its fulfillment, through Christ, in the New.

 

 

 

“This one, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; this one shall be called ‘woman,’ for out of man this one has been taken…” (Genesis 2:23)

“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent His Son, born of a woman…” (Galatians 4:4)

 

 

 

Then the Lord said to the snake, “…I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel…” (Genesis 3:15)

“A great sign appeared in the sky, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was with child…Then another sign appeared in the sky; it was a huge red dragon…the dragon stood before the woman about to give birth, to devour her child…She gave birth to a son, a male child, destined to rule the nations with an iron rod…The huge dragon, the ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, who deceived the whole world, was thrown down to the earth, and its angels were thrown down with it…” (Revelations 12:1-9)

 

 

 

“The man gave his wife the name ‘Eve,’ because she was the mother of all the living.” (Genesis 3:20)

“When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother.’” (John 19:26-27)

 

 

 

“On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding. When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him, ‘They have no wine.’ And Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.’ His mother said to the servers, ‘Do whatever he tells you.’ (John 2:1-5)

“Bathsheba replied, ‘Very well, I will speak to the king for you.’ Then Bathsheba went to King Solomon to speak to him for Adonijah, and the king stood up to meet her and paid her homage. Then he sat down upon his throne, and a throne was provided for the king’s mother, who sat as this right. She said, ‘There is one small favor I would ask you. Do not refuse me.’ The king said to her, “Ask it, my mother, for I will not refuse you…” (1 Kings 2:18-20)

“…and there is something greater than Solomon here…” (Matthew 12:42)

 

 

Hail, O Queen of Heaven!

Hail, O Lady of Angels!

Hail, thou root! Hail, thou gate

from whom unto the world a light has arisen!

Rejoice, O glorious Virgin,

lovely beyond all others.

Farewell, most beautiful maiden,

and pray for us to Christ. Amen.

 

 

So Datingish has impressed me again with a profound question that reminded me of two posts I’ve done in the past that I think were also responses to equally profound Datingish posts.

When I saw the title on the Xanga front page I just cringed; yes, I know what kind of a culture we live in today but it speaks to me of how narrow our vision is when it comes to love and the beauty of the human being. When I go to the grocery store, for example, and walk to the meat section, I am looking for a particular cut of beef because I have in mind a recipe that calls for such specificity. However when I love someone, how could you be equally so exclusive?

As I mention in one of my previous posts:

 

Secondly, and this pertains particularly to the recent phenomenon on Xanga (way back in 2010!), when you seek out and display images merely of this genital or that one, you detract immensely from its beauty. Why? You have removed it from its context, from the very reality that makes it beautiful in the first place. Who would find a severed penis lying on the ground beautiful, or take a picture of it to later view for some pleasure? Likewise a vagina or even a woman’s breasts? It is one thing to idolize the human body in its wholeness, but to idolize a mere part? Some might argue that we do the same thing with hands and heads; this is entirely different. When there is a picture of a hand, it is often being employed to model something (jewelry for example) or convey a message (a hand outstretched expressing an opportunity to help); the hand isolated and pictured is rarely the main focus. With the image of a face or head we are not viewing it for its own sake but recognizing that the face, of all the parts of the human body, conveys the reality of the person in a way that we can connect with. Can you tell by looking at a leg what a person is feeling? In contrast, what can you tell of a person by looking at pictures of their genitals, save for perhaps a judgment as to why they may have chosen to exhibit this part of themselves, as opposed to something that is, of itself, beautiful?

 The long and short of it (absolutely no pun intended) is this: our genitalia is limited and dependent when it comes to its own beauty. These parts of our human bodies serve a higher reality than what we find in them individually. It is by these parts, for example, that the human race continues onward and the image and likeness of God endures in this world. These parts of our bodies allow a husband and wife to express their love for each other in a way that cannot be fully expressed by any other. But nothing in these parts alone is beautiful; cut apart from the person they are just awkward bits of flesh. To idolize or to make pornographic the human genitalia is to greatly insult the beauty and dignity of each and every human being alive, whether they realize the insult or not. 

 

I can only hope and wish that people will, one day, realize that they could not love this boy’s whatever and that girl’s what’s-it without the whole person being there, too; some guy may claim to love breasts but I guarantee he would be absolutely repulsed, disgusted and terrified if Saint Agatha appeared to him with her virgin breasts on a plate. He would likely find that the manliness he thought he possessed quickly fled in the face of such a courageous woman and he might, in that moment of terror, come to see that a woman’s breasts are nothing if they do not belong to a woman, and the woman herself is surpassingly beautiful when compared to any singular part of her body. What needs to happen to such people who have an inordinate fascination with or attraction to a particular part of the human body is the real healing of their view of the human person. I’m not talking about a Frankenstein-esque sewing-together of the parts in such a way that we look at a person as an assemblage.

In any depiction, even this rather muscular one, Frankenstein’s creature is always seen as an object (rarely a subject) of horror because it is not only unnatural in origin but is a hideous assemblage of parts; any attraction or sympathy the reader might have relates to the one part of the creature that could truly, of itself, be remotely beautiful: its “heart”.

What needs to happen rather is something akin to this beautiful painting by Giovanni Lanfranco titled “St. Peter Healing St. Agatha:”

According to the ancient tradition a vision of St. Peter came to St. Agatha while she was in prison, after she had been tortured and her breasts torn off (yes, you read that correctly) with metal pincers. When the guards came in the morning to get her, she had been miraculously healed. 

Look at this painting and see the tenderness here and, really, the radiant beauty not of the breast being restored but of the woman to whom the breast belongs. This painting–like the amazing story–is not about a woman’s breasts but rather about the woman. Is she not so beautiful?

If we are going to let ourselves become obsessed with one particular part of our SO, then why does it matter if it is our SO’s part or someone else’s? If we must choose one “part” of our SO to love, let us choose the one part that truly matters, the one part that endures long after a butt sinks or flattens, after breasts sag, figures bulge, legs splotch, hair falls out and grays, eyes dim, lips thin, muscles fade, and manhoods fail to rise to the occasion. There is one part of a loved one that does not return to dust and that is the heart, hence why I posted my “favorite part of my SO’s body” at the beginning of this post. 

The heart!

The heart, if anything, has the potential to become even more beautiful as it becomes ancient, and no part of a person is so dearly missed by those who came to love it when it has moved on to its eternal place. Yet, as a very popular song once sang, the heart goes on. Does anyone write poems, sing songs or sigh in lamentation for a particular part of someone who has passed on? Of course not; they sigh after the heart whose song no longer beats such that human ears could hear it.

The Heart of Jesus–that heart pierced for love of us–is still literally sung of some two thousand years after it ceased to beat for three days. Songs have been sung, poems written, litanies prayed, great masterpieces carved or painted, whole liturgies celebrated and even a feast of great solemnity is celebrated for this heart-of-hearts! To think that of all the religions in the world OUR GOD HAS A HUMAN HEART!

Certainly we see pictures of Jesus’ hands, but no one is looking at such images for the sake of His hands alone, for the scars draw us closer to the heart that chose to permit the nails. Likewise His feet. There is no part of my SO that stands alone in beauty save for His heart, and if the Incarnation teaches us anything about our own bodies it is that the same truth pertains to us: nothing stands alone in beauty save for the heart. To idolize one part of the human body is to instantly make it repulsive (just imagine your “favorite part” on a plate) but if we think of the heart–not merely the organ mind you but what the image of the organ draws us to–we think of the person that bears it. The person, whole and entire and not a Frankenstein, is what we love.

 

Let’s love our SO for who they are as complete and beautiful, and we find ourselves weak for a time, focus then on their heart so that in loving one part, you may love them wholly.

Seventy years ago today, in a gas chamber at Auschwitz, a remarkable woman died.

Please say hello to St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, a Carmelite nun.

You might be asking yourself, “Now why would the Nazis want to gas a cloistered Carmelite nun who wasn’t doing them any harm?”

Well that is because, like all nuns, monks, brothers, sisters and priests, they had a life before God called them. Before she was a nun, she was Edith Stein.

Edith Stein was born in 1891 to an observant Jewish family in Germany. By the time she was a teenager she was a firm atheist in spite of the strong and traditional example of faith given by her mother that she herself admired greatly. The death of her father when she was two years old proved to great a challenge to her and in spite of her mother’s efforts she gave up prayer and the practice of religion altogether. She went on in life to serve as a nurse in an Austrian field hospital (the tyhpus ward to be precise) and then to receive a doctorate in philosophy from the University of Göttingen, her dissertation being done under the tutelage of Edmund Husserl, a philosopher famous for founding the school of thought known as “phenomenology,” which promotes the idea that all knowledge is based primarily in our own experience. She had a strong desire to know the truth of things and saw philosophy as the way to seek the truth and understand reality is it really was. She was a sort of pioneer in the world of higher education, being part of the earliest efforts to break through the glass ceiling that kept women from becoming full professors and holding other levels of leadership in a university setting.

(Edith Stein as a nurse during WWI)

It was, however, her encounter with an elderly woman in a Catholic Church that changed everything. A biographical account provides the following:

“During this period she went to Frankfurt Cathedral and saw a woman with a shopping basket going in to kneel for a brief prayer. “This was something totally new to me. In the synagogues and Protestant churches I had visited people simply went to the services. Here, however, I saw someone coming straight from the busy marketplace into this empty church, as if she was going to have an intimate conversation. It was something I never forgot.” A visit with the widow of a friend, whose husband had died at Flanders in WWI, poured what waters of grace on the seed planted in that empty church. The woman and her husband had been Jewish converts to Protestantism, and though Edith was nervous about meeting her friend’s young widow, she was surprised at the woman’s faith and wrote:  “This was my first encounter with the Cross and the divine power it imparts to those who bear it … it was the moment when my unbelief collapsed and Christ began to shine his light on me – Christ in the mystery of the Cross.” “Things were in God’s plan which I had not planned at all. I am coming to the living faith and conviction that – from God’s point of view – there is no chance and that the whole of my life, down to every detail, has been mapped out in God’s divine providence and makes complete and perfect sense in God’s all-seeing eyes.” A few years later she spend a summer with a friend who had also converted to Protestantism from Judaism. While there Edith happened upon the autobiography of St. Teresa of Avila and spent the entire night reading the whole thing. When she had finished the book she said to herself, “This is the truth…my longing for the truth was a single prayer.”   Edith Stein was baptized into the Catholic Church on January 1st of 1922, saying, “I had given up practicing my Jewish religion when I was a 14-year-old girl and did not begin to feel Jewish again until I had returned to God. She expressed a continual awareness that she belonged totally to Christ not only spiritually, but by blood as well since both she and the Christ she loved were Jewish. Though she wanted to join a Carmelite monastery immediately–no doubt inspired by St. Teresa, she was discouraged from doing so and thus continued on with her career in academia. She taught at a school in Speyer from 1923-1931. In 1932 she because a lecturer at the Institute for Pedagogy at Münster but soon afterward new laws, passed by the Nazi government in Germany, made it so that people of Jewish descent could not teach in schools, and thus she was forced to resign in 1933. She wrote: “I had heard of severe measures against Jews before. But now it dawned on me that God had laid his hand heavily on His people, and that the destiny of these people would also be mine.” The Aryan Law of the Nazis made it impossible for Edith Stein to continue teaching. “If I can’t go on here, then there are no longer any opportunities for me in Germany,” she wrote; “I had become a stranger in the world.” Having received permission to enter the Carmelite Order, Edith met with the prioress of the convent in Cologne, saying to her, “Human activities cannot help us, but only the suffering of Christ. It is my desire to share in it.” A few years after she received her habit and religious name, she wrote: “I understood the cross as the destiny of God’s people, which was beginning to be apparent at the time (1933). I felt that those who understood the Cross of Christ should take it upon themselves on everybody’s behalf. Of course, I know better now what it means to be wedded to the Lord in the sign of the cross. However, one can never comprehend it, because it is a mystery.” (Edith Stein just before receiving her habit and religious name) “Those who join the Carmelite Order are not lost to their near and dear ones, but have been won for them, because it is our vocation to intercede to God for everyone.” In particular, she interceded to God for her people: “I keep thinking of Queen Esther who was taken away from her people precisely because God wanted her to plead with the king on behalf of her nation. I am a very poor and powerless little Esther, but the King who has chosen me is infinitely great and merciful. This is great comfort.” On New Year’s Eve in 1938 Sr. Teresa was smuggled out of Germany into the Netherlands in an effort to save her from being taken away by the Nazis. She wrote in her will a year and a half later: “Even now I accept the death that God has prepared for me in complete submission and with joy as being his most holy will for me. I ask the Lord to accept my life and my death … so that the Lord will be accepted by His people and that His Kingdom may come in glory, for the salvation of Germany and the peace of the world.” About two years later, in 1941, she wrote to a friend in an almost prophetic way:   “One can only gain a scientia crucis (knowledge of the cross) if one has thoroughly experienced the cross. I have been convinced of this from the first moment onwards and have said with all my heart: ‘Ave, Crux, Spes unica’ (I welcome you, Cross, our only hope).” For a year later, on August 2nd, 1942, the Gestapo came to the convent to arrest her and her sister, Rosa, who had also become Catholic and was serving the nuns of the convent. The last words that anyone heard Sr. Teresa say were to her sister, “Come, we are going for our people.” She and her sister were deported to Auschwitz on August 7th along with over 900 other Jews taken from the Netherlands in response to a letter written by the Dutch Catholic Bishops against the Nazi treatment of Jews. Jews who had converted to Christianity had, up to that point, been for the most part spared, but the boldness of the Dutch bishops spurred the Nazis into retaliation. While there are no records to absolutely confirm this, she is believed to have been executed in the gas chambers of Auschwitz on this day, August 9th or 1942. A professor who knew her well wrote later, “She is a witness to God’s presence in a world where God is absent.”   St. Teresa fell in love with the Truth–Jesus Christ–after a lifelong pursuit of Him, and thus came to follow His Way to everlasting Life.   St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, pray for us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello again everyone!

My goodness have I been away, and over there, here, and yonder, and various places betwixt others. Here’s a diagram:

On June 7th I drove with my brothers here to St. Paul, MN to attend a big gathering of all the Jesuits in the Midwest. The highlight of the event was the ordination of two of our men; that will be me in five more years!

A view from the University of St. Thomas looking toward the Minneapolis skyline at sunset.

After attending a beautiful First Mass by one of the new priests I flew south to St. Louis to attend a conference with about twenty other Jesuits about Devotion to the Sacred Heart and the Apostleship of Prayer. It was so nice to be “back in town” since I’d recently spent three years there. I got to visit a few friends, including Sr. Mary Thoma as well as a family I became well acquainted with (eight kids!).

(Sr. Mary is all the way to to the right on the bottom. Another friend, Sr. Stella Maris, is on the bottom all the way to the left. This is an old picture; they both have black veils now!)

After a very good and edifying conference I flew all the way out to Connecticut to meet my dear penpal, Mother Dolores Hart, a former Hollywood actress-turned-Benedictine nun!

She and I have been writing for a few years now and this was my first opportunity to finally meet in person. It was an absolutely beautiful experience to stay at the abbey. Pictures weren’t permitted, so I don’t have any for you. The abbey itself is in the middle of the woods of Connecticut and is a working farm, meaning they raise a good deal of their own food and do all the work normally expected of a farm. I even helped with a big hay harvest on the weekend; three fields had been bailed and so I helped put the bails on trucks and haul them off to barns, unload and stack. We worked from 2-9pm! It was so good to do some good hard work outside, and the nuns were a pure joy to labor with. Mother Dolores and I had our visit the next day, and it was such a blessing to meet face-to-face, albeit through a wooden lattice (they are cloistered after all). We talked about so many different things, from my family to her writing her autobiography (can’t WAIT to read it!), to her thoughts of Jesus as an actor, taking on a multitude of different roles so to enter into the story of our own life, and even a funny story from her days in novitiate. I wish we could have spoken together for hours but, alas, we only had one!

After four blessed days at the abbey I flew down to Maryland for a gathering of all those Jesuits in the same stage of formation as I. We met and shared our experiences of the past year (most of us taught in a high school, but not all of us), and then we all had our eight-day silent retreat together. The whole thing took place at our retreat house, Loyola on the Potomac, and it, too, was a blessed time. The retreat house is on a high bluff overlooking the Potomac River and it surrounded by forests, which I eagerly explored.

 

Once I had finished with the retreat I flew all the way out to Denver, rented a car, and then drove up to Laramie, Wyoming to spend some time with my dad and stepmom. My dad and I did some arrowhead hunting (I found a few pieces but nothing spectacular), I visited other relatives in town, visited a friend down in Ft. Collins and had dinner with my aunt and uncle in that area, and I even took my dad and stepmom out to the Indian Reservation I had served on while I was a novice.

Above you’ll see some of the places I hunted for arrowheads, plus a picture of my dear friend Amanda and I in Ft. Collins, my stepmom Maureen holding a little horned toad she found, Sacajawea’s grave, images of the Shoshone Cemetery (there was a time when they literally buried people in their beds, hence the cast-iron bed frame sticking out of the ground).

When all was said and done in Wyoming I drove back to Denver for one of the highlights of my summer: finally meeting @semper_medusa in person! We ate pizza at Old Chicago and visited; it was so wonderful to meet her after Xanga and email for over a year now. Xanga meets are awfully special, aren’t they? Unfortunately for stupid me, even though I had a camera with me I FORGOT to take pictures!

I then returned to Milwaukee and moved down the street to my new residence. For the next two years I will be teaching sophomore and junior boys at Marquette University High School. The sophomores will be learning about the Sacraments and the juniors will learn about the social teaching of the Church, and who knows what else I’ll be doing!

Recently I also spent a week at our villa near Waupaca, WI, just catching up on rest, kayaking and visiting with my Jesuit brothers. I also went on a pilgrimage with three busloads of Catholics to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Lacrosse, WI, where I had the privilege of serving the Mass for Cardinal Raymond Burke! I had some wonderful conversations both on the way up and on the way back. Last week I drove out to Ann Arbor, MI to visit my friend (as you saw in my last post) and then to Iowa for my ten-year high school reunion. It sure was interesting to see where some of my classmates were at–for better or for worse–and to realize how much I myself had changed in that time.

(Meeting the Cardinal and then a view of the Home Country!)

Finally on Sunday I returned to Milwaukee, and now I have fifteen days to get my classes prepared to teach! Pray for me this year as I begin this new mission!

 

 

 

Yes, it has been AGES since I have updated! But starting on June 7th I’ve been traveling all over the place, moving to a new community and preparing for a new ministry so unfortunately Xanga has had to wait!

 

I am hoping that this week I will be able to at least post about my summer adventures, but I wanted to take this opportunity to give you a long overdue update on a former Xangan, maje_charis (most of you probably don’t remember her).

Two years ago this August she joined a religious order and thus had to leave Xanga. I was able to see her a couple of times afterward, but the last time I saw her was New Year’s Day of 2011.

However Jesus has been very, very kind and I was able to visit the convent this past Wednesday on August 1st.

Hey Xanga, say hello to Sister Maria Canisius!

She is doing very well and is still very much in love with Jesus! She prays for all of you along with her other 100+ sisters!

Today is the feast of St. Justin Martyr, one of Christianity’s earliest apologists. He lived from 100-165 AD and was put to death under Emperor Marcus Aurelius for being a Christian.

 

I remember first learning about him while I was a novice, and it was part of his First Apology that made me come to a deeper appreciation of my Catholic faith, especially the way we celebrate the Eucharist.

 

“Chapter 67: Weekly Worship of Christians”–…And on the day called Sunday, all who live in cities or in the country gather together to one place, and the memoirs of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as timepermits; then, when the reader has ceased, the president verbally instructs, and exhorts to the imitation of these good things. Then we all rise together and pray, and, as we before said, when our prayer is ended, bread and wineand water are brought, and the president in like manner offers prayers and thanksgivings, according to his ability,and the people assent, saying Amen; and there is a distribution to each, and a participation of that over which thanks have been given, and to those who are absent a portion is sent by the deacons. And they who are well to do, and willing, give what each thinks fit; and what is collected is deposited with the president, who succours theorphans and widows and those who, through sickness or any other cause, are in want, and those who are in bonds and the strangers sojourning among us, and in a word takes care of all who are in need. But Sunday is the day on which we all hold our common assembly, because it is the first day on which God, having wrought a change in the darkness and matter, made the world; and Jesus Christ our Saviour on the same day rose from the dead. For He was crucified on the day before that of Saturn (Saturday); and on the day after that of Saturn, which is the day of the Sun, having appeared to His apostles and disciples, He taught them these things, which we have submitted to you also for your consideration.”

 

I was so surprised to see that the pattern of the Mass, for the most part, has not changed at least since the time St. Justin wrote this to Emperor Antoninus Pius around the year 150 AD, give or take a decade! We still gather in one place–a church, cathedral, chapel, basilica–and being (after some prayers and admitting our sinfullness first of course!) with the Liturgy of the Word, listening to “the memoirs of the apostles and/or the writings of the prophets.” Then the presider–the priest–gives the homily. We all then stand of offer the Prayers of the Faithful, and when this has ended we have the Offertory, during which time the bread, wine and water for Eucharist is brought forward. The priest offers prayers in thanksgiving for these gifts from God and so begins the Liturgy of the Eucharist, at the end of which is the Great Amen that, at least on Sundays, is sung by all the people. We usually have the offering not after the Amen as Justin has it above, but rather during the Offertory. 

Earlier in his Apology when Justin is speaking about Baptism he offers some more details that reminded me of the way we still celebrate:

“But we, after we have thus washed him who has been convinced and has assented to our teaching, bring him to the place where those who are called brethren are assembled, in order that we may offer hearty prayers in common for ourselves and for the baptized [illuminated] person, and for all others in every place, that we may be counted worthy, now that we have learned the truth, by our works also to be found good citizens and keepers of the commandments, so that we may be saved with an everlasting salvation. Having ended the prayers, we salute one another with a kiss. There is then brought to the president of the brethren bread and a cup of wine mixed with water; and he taking them, gives praise and glory to the Father of the universe, through the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and offers thanks at considerable length for our being counted worthy to receive these things at His hands. And when he has concluded the prayers and thanksgivings, all the people present express their assent by saying Amen. This word Amen answers in the Hebrew language to γένοιτο [so be it]. And when the president has given thanks, and all the people have expressed their assent, those who are called by us deacons give to each of those present to partake of the bread and wine mixed with water over which the thanksgiving was pronounced, and to those who are absent they carry away a portion.”

 

Here St. Justin talks about the kiss of peace after the prayers, though we usually offer the sign of peace after the Our Father and before we receive the Eucharist, after the Great Amen. I thought it was neat, though, that even in St. Justin’s time it was the deacons and the priests who were the “ordinary” ministers of Holy Communion, as it still is today, and that there was even in those days an effort to bring the Eucharist to the sick and others who otherwise could not attend Mass.

 

I remember being especially heartened by his words on the Eucharist in this Apology. At the time my understanding of and love for the Eucharist was just beginning to grow; I had not been taught very well at all while growing up. To read the words of a Christian who was practicing his faith hardly a century after Christ and to find that his understanding of the Eucharist and mine were the same was so encouraging.

“And this food is called among us Εὐχαριστία [the Eucharist], of which no one is allowed to partake but the man who believes that the things which we teach are true, and who has been washed with the washing that is for the remission of sins, and unto regeneration, and who is so living as Christ has enjoined. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. For the apostles, in the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels, have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them; that Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, said, This do in remembrance of Me,  this is My body; (Luke 22:19) and that, after the same manner, having taken the cup and given thanks, He said, This is My blood; and gave it to them alone.”

This helped me to see, too, that not permitting non-believers to participate in Holy Communion has been a practice of the Church since the very beginning; even the first Christians saw the importance of a communion of hearts and minds being necessary for a Sacramental Communion as well. Also the importance of the Eucharist being received only after one has been baptized and is “living as Christ has enjoined”–in other words, they are not living in serious sin–was seen so early on…all these new things I was learning about my Catholic faith, I realized, are not arbitrary or by any means a recent development, but they were ancient practices and beliefs taught the early Christians by the apostles themselves and handed down through the centuries until that learning reached a somewhat naive Jesuit novice in St. Paul, Minnesota.

 

I was reminded of all of this today when I was reading the Office of Readings for the feast today before Mass. It is an account of St. Justin’s trial and in it he says, “In the time of the lawless partisans of idolatry, wicked decrees were passed against the godly Christians in town and country, to force them to offer libations to vain idols; and accordingly the holy men, having been apprehended, were brought before the prefect of Rome, Rusticus by name. And when they had been brought before his judgment-seat, said to Justin, Obey the gods at once, and submit to the kings. Justin said, To obey the commandments of our Saviour Jesus Christ is worthy neither of blame nor of condemnation. Rusticus the prefect said, What kind ofdoctrines do you profess? Justin said, I have endeavoured to learn all doctrines; but I have acquiesced at last in the true doctrines, those namely of the Christians, even though they do not please those who hold false opinions.Rusticus the prefect said, Are those the doctrines that please you, you utterly wretched man? Justin said, Yes, since I adhere to them with right dogma. Rusticus the prefect said, What is the dogma? Justin said, That according to which we worship the God of the Christians, whom we reckon to be one from the beginning, the maker and fashioner of the whole creation, visible and invisible; and the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who had also been preached beforehand by the prophets as about to be present with the race of men, the herald of salvation and teacher of good disciples. And I, being a man, think that what I can say is insignificant in comparison with His boundless divinity, acknowledging a certain prophetic power, since it was prophesied concerning Him of whom now I say that He is the Son of God. For I know that of old the prophets foretold His appearance among men.

I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed this earlier, but I realized this morning that already in St. Justin’s time the basic tenets of the Creed I profess at Mass every week (at least) were already starting to coalesce! His response to Rusticus’ question on dogma is so similar, “…we worship God…whom we reckon to be one from the beginning, maker and fashioner of the whole creation, visible and invisible; and the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who had also been preached beforehand by the prophets as about to be present with the race of men, the herald of salvation and the teacher of good disciples…”

The Nicene Creed begins: “I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible…I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God, born of the Father before all ages…” It continues to profess, “For us men and for our salvation he came down from heaven, and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate, he suffered death and was buried, and rose again on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures…”

 

I am so grateful that I was blessed to have born and raised in the Church that this great saint and martyr lived in and died for, along with so many others. To think that if St. Justin showed up at Mass today, even though he wouldn’t understand English, he’d still know what was going on and he’d still recognize it as the same worship he participated in 1,847 years ago! I suppose, too, that if I went back in a time machine to his day I’d have the same blessing to know what was going on, too, even if I didn’t understand the Latin! 

 

Have you ever come across the writings of a saint or Church Father that has helped you come to love Christ and your Christian faith more? Has your Christian community maintained any of the ancient traditions of the Early Christians in its weekly/daily worship?

 

Today, 581 years ago in France, a 19 year-old girl was burned at the stake. 

Her name was Joan and she came from a peasant family. She couldn’t read and it wasn’t until she was leading the armies of France against the most powerful nation in the world at the time, at the age of 16, that she learned to write her name.

She was an amazing young lady, I’d say. One of her first actions was to march an army to Orleans, where the English had held a siege for seven months; she defeated them in nine days. Even after being wounded in the neck with an arrow she was back on her horse leading the final charge.

Ultimately betrayal, politics and some awful bishops would capture her, put her through a crooked trial, and burn her alive at the stake. A few decades later the Pope would reverse that corrupt court’s ruling, but it wasn’t until until 1909 that she was pronounced Blessed Joan, and not until 1920, after stories of her amazing intercession in France throughout World War I spread like wildfire, was she declared a Saint. I’ve long considered her a good friend.

By the grace of God we not only have the transcripts of her infamous trial, but also several letters that she dictated. I thought I would post one of her letters below for your enjoyment and also so you can see the fiery temperament of a young girl whose whole heart was consumed with a desire to “serve God first.”

 

“+ Jesus Maria + 
King of England, and you, Duke of Bedford, who call yourself Regent of the kingdom France; you William de la Pole, Count of Suffolk; John, Lord Talbot; and you Thomas, Lord Scales, who call yourselves lieutenants of the said Duke of Bedford, do justly by the King of Heaven; render to the Maid who is sent here of God, the King of Heaven, the keys of all the good cities that you have taken and violated in France. She has come here from God to restore the royal blood. She is all ready to make peace, if you will deal rightly by her, acknowledge the wrong done France, and pay for what you have taken. And all of you, archers, companions of war, nobles and others who are before you; and if this is not done, expect news of the Maid, who will go to see you shortly, to your very great damage. King of England, if you do not do this, I am Chef de Guerre, and in whatever place I shall find your people in France, I will make them go whether they will or not; and if they will not obey I will have them all killed. I am sent here by God, the King of Heaven, each and all, to put you out of all France. And if they will obey I will be merciful. And stand not by your opinion, for you will never hold the kingdom of France through God, King of Heaven, son of Saint Mary; it will be thus ruled by King Charles VII, true heritor; for God , the King of Heaven, wishes it, and this to him is revealed by the Maid, and he will enter Paris in good company. If you will not believe the news from God and the Maid, in whatever place we shall find you, we shall strike in your midst, and will make so great a hurrah [hahay] that for a thousand years there has not been one in France so great, if you do not deal justly. And you may well believe that the King of Heaven will send more strength to the Maid than you will be able to lead in all your assaults against her and her good soldiers. And when the blows fall we shall see who will have the better right from God of Heaven. You, Duke of Bedford, the Maid begs you and requires of you that you work not your own destruction. If you listen to her you will yet be able to come in her company to where the French will do the finest deed that ever was done for Christianity. And reply to this, if you wish to make peace at the city of Orleans; and if thus you do not do, you will shortly remember it to your great sorrow. Written this Tuesday, Holy Week. [March 22, 1429.]“

 

She would later, on April 30th of that year shortly after her arrival on scene, write a second letter that repeated these same demands, but the English ignored her. Finally she sent a third and final letter on May 5th, this time delivering it by having it tied around an arrow shaft and fired into the English stronghold. It read simply:

“You, men of England, who have no right to this Kingdom of France, the King of Heaven orders and notifies you through me, Joan the Maiden, to leave your fortress and go back to your own country; or I will produce such a clash of arms to be eternally remembered. And this is the third and last time I have written to you; I shall not write anything further.

 

Jesus, Mary;

Joan the Maiden.

 

I would have sent you my letter more properly, but you detain my heralds; for you have detained my herald called ‘Guyenne.’ Please send him back to me, and I will send some of your men captured in the fortress of Saint Loup, for they are not all dead.”

 

 

The English were defeated at Orleans three days later. I remember learning a good deal about St. Joan in novitiate, at the age of 22, and thinking, “She did all of this by the age of 19; what have I done with my life?” What an amazing young woman of God!

When I was in high school I camp up with what I thought was a very clever response to a homework assignment, a project, or some other effort of mine upon it’s completion.

“Perfect enough.”

What that meant was, “It is sufficient for it’s purpose.” That didn’t mean it was complete; otherwise it would indeed be perfect. It meant that I was done putting effort into it and that I knew it was good enough for the standards of the one who would evaluate or judge it. I did very well in school actually, but the standards of public schools weren’t all that hard for me to reach.

That attitude carried on into my college years, though I certainly had to work a little harder, though not much. I was an infamous procrastinator but for the most part achieved good grades; once I put off a paper for nearly four months, researched it the week it was due while simultaneously putting together a presentation, typed up the paper the night before the due date, and was given the only A in the class the whole semester. I thought it was because I was “that good.” Now I know better; that was God’s mercy.

Novitiate changed all of that. Novitiate showed me the smugness of that mindset, that “good enough” approach to everything. Novitiate showed me that, ultimately, my every single deed–as well as the spirit in which I carried it out–would one day be evaluated not merely by a boss, a teacher or some other figure whose job it was to assign me a task, evaluate me and then award/punish me according to the results and their proximity to the standards set for success or failure. No, the one who would evaluate me would be the very one who created me. 

After two years of novitiate and coming to love Christ and desire to serve Him in an entirely different way, I was missioned to St. Louis University to study philosophy for three years. I wasn’t going to college because “that’s what you do after high school;” I was going to college because Jesus was sending me there to learn. “Perfect enough” was no longer an option; now it was, “Yes, Lord, because I love you.” I poured my whole heart into my studies, Christ asking me to take some of the most challenging courses of my life, putting me under the instruction of some of the most challenging professors I have ever had. By His grace I graduated summa cum laude; I did fairly well in my first bout of college, but I did not expect this at all. I checked my grades only to see how well I was honoring Christ in my work; I never really kept track of my GPA or anything. So when I met with my advisor to see if I was all lined up to graduate he made some calculations and such and said, “Well, looks like you will graduate summa cum laude.” “…….is that good?” “Yes, Jacob; that means ‘highest honors.’” “Oh…well, good. Thank you.”

I don’t offer that to brag but only to demonstrate what can happen when your motivation for doing anything–work, study, relationships, etc.–is reordered to love. Love of Christ, love of your family, friend, spouse. And our motivation can be reordered to loving the wrong things, too–love of pleasure, food, image, honor, self, a person, a place, a thing, etc.. 

 

You see, we little human beings, so often lamenting how generic and common we are, how talentless, unattractive, unlucky, poor, etc. we are, well, we are so often then totally wrong. We couldn’t be more wrong. Jesus said, “If you then, who are wicked, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good things to those who ask him?” (Matthew 7:11) So what did the perfect Father give to His perfect Son?

When praying for His followers He said, “Father, they are your gift to me.” (John 17:24)

Think about that, dear ones. You are a gift given to the perfect Son of God by His perfect Father. What about us could possibly matter more than that reality? Does it matter that I don’t have the good looks of this or that celebrity? As much money as this person? Talent like that guy on the TV? No; they are gifts given to the same Christ by the same Father.

You are a treasure; Christ died to save those who were His. 

Now, we can be pretty awful people, so much so that it may seem that if we are gifts from the Father to the Son, we are “white elephants.” Whether or not that is the case I couldn’t say, but even if we are we were given to Christ out of the Father’s love, and Christ gave His life to spare ours. I know I wouldn’t die for any gag-gift I’ve ever received.

So where does that leave us? What do we do with that? Nothing. Everything.

You see we’ve looked at the Father and the Son; in the Old Covenant God made Himself known to His people and He stood above them. From Heaven He showered down bread, defeated enemies, worked all manner of miracles for His people. In the New Covenant God made Himself known to His people by becoming one of them, and He dwelt among us. From His own Body He gives us our Food and Drink, defeated our greatest enemy, Death, worked miracles and spoke such words that they echo in the hearts of billions and shape history still to this day. He became one of us to gather up all His gifts into one gift: the Church, His Bride. On the Cross, right before He died, He said, “It is finished.” (John 19:30) In the ancient Latin translation it was worded, “Consummatum est:” It is consummated. Granted, it is an interesting choice of word for the original Greek (tetelestai; literally “it has been accomplished”) but I think it more fully conveys the reality of that moment.

Just like in a marriage, the consummation–as any married couple can remember–is hardly the accomplishment or finishing moment of a marriage; it is the very beginning. 

What began on the Cross? Christ is making a return of all humanity to His Father; you see now why, so soon after His rising, Christ makes way for the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit, as some theologians have tried to explain Him, is the perfect love shared between the Father and the Son. The Father loves the Son perfectly, the Son of course returns that love; that Love is perfect, as God is perfect. That Love IS God; God IS Love. When we stop to ponder the reality that the Father gave us to His Son out of Love, what do you think the Son desires to do in return? 

Jesus desires to give us back.

But love, real love, perfect love isn’t about to pull the classic “re-gift.” Oh no; perfect love desires to give an even greater gift. Think back to the parable of the talents; who was the wicked servant? The one who gave back precisely what he’d been given in the first place. Jesus is the perfect servant, the perfect everything; He’s going to give back, and then some.

What this means for us, then, is that by accepting the reality of our being a gift from the Father to the Son–being a Christian–we agree to participate some how in that great return of all mankind to the Father. Christ’s whole salvific work isn’t so much His heroic and sacrificial effort to restore us to how glorious we were when God first created Adam and Eve, but He is working to glorify us and to make us more like Himself. Can you imagine what a gift it would be to the Father to present Him with a whole humanity that bore a very real, total–not merely superficial or Luther’s “blanket of snow over a manure pile”–likeness to that One Whom He loves most of all? 

 

Being a Christian is absolutely not about being “perfect enough;” it isn’t even about being perfect. Being a Christian is about being perfected. By the power of the Holy Spirit, in the matrix of the Church, remade in Baptism, new-forged in Confirmation, fed and transformed in the Eucharist, purified one drop of dross at a time through Reconciliation, patched up and strengthened in the Anointing of the Sick, and made a coworker in all of this through the Sacrament of Matrimony or Holy Orders Christ is perfecting the whole of humanity, making each of us more and more like Himself, uniting us intimately with Him, to the point that we aren’t merely beneath Him (Old Covenant), beside Him (Incarnation) or having Him dwelling within us (the Holy Spirit), but rather we are living in divine union with the whole Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This is the whole goal of Christian life: to be made like Him. (1 John 3:1-3)

Christ is not about to settle for “perfect enough” while He is laboring constantly to purify us and make us whole, lacking in nothing (the true meaning of the word “perfect”); after all, nothing unclean or impure shall enter into the presence of God in heaven. (Revelation 21:27) Jesus wants with His whole heart to present each and every one of us as a gift to the Father, given in the same Spirit of Love that He first received us. 

I encourage all of us to examine our Christian life and to pray constantly for guidance in how we can, more and more, surrender to the purifying flames, hammers and chisels, sandpaper and every other means by which the Divine Carpenter is perfecting us in preparation for that day when He presents us before the Father. Will we be a gift for which the Son is glorified (and thus so are we!) or will settle for “perfect enough” and hope we’ll slide by with a B+? 

So often this work involves the sacrificing and giving up of many aspects of our life. For me it was marriage and family, possession, self-determination and a few other major things. For others the sacrifices are different, and regardless of what they are they are fuel for the purifying flame, a whetstone to sharpen the carving knife or chisel, grit for the sanding. Our sacrifices, those things which Christ asks us to give Him and by the Holy Spirit, inspiring us with love, we do, allow Christ to shape us and perfect us.

As anyone who has done sculpting work can tell you, the easiest part is knocking off the big chunks. While there is a huge commitment in, say, taking vows of perpetual poverty, chastity and obedience, those are things that one can pretty much make a final decision on. However the hardest part of sculpting is the finer work, the sanding and such, the removal of any final impurities before the work is finally perfect. So often the small sacrifices–treating a certain nemesis with love, remaining chaste, saving money, putting aside your plans for the afternoon to help an annoying neighbor, an attachment to junk food, constant music, and a million other little things–are the hardest not because they are hard to give up, but rather because they are so easy to take back. 

Just think about Lent. Giving up TV? Piece of cake: unplug the thing and don’t go near it for forty days. Giving up chocolate? “Well, I had a hard day at work; I deserve one, little piece…”

Or the rest of the year. Waiting until marriage? Manageable; set firm boundaries, date responsibly, etc. Giving up pornography? “Well, I’m not hurting anyone.”

Christ desires us to be perfect; He desires us to let Him perfect us. That means trusting Him, giving Him everything He asks of us, cooperating in His work in us and assisting Him in His work in others, not merely by not getting in His way mind you; after all, He said DO unto others as you would have them do unto you; it is the other religions that say, “Do NOT do unto others…”

Because of His love for the Father and His love for us, Jesus refuses to settle for “perfect enough.” 

What about you?

 

 

What are some ways Christ is asking something of you in order to make you more perfect? What is standing in your way and what could help you to trust Him? How are you cooperating with Christ in His work of perfecting you and others around you? How can your church and your fellow Christians help?

In the last several years on Xanga I’ve had many, many fascinating discussions with all sorts of people about the Catholic faith, with Catholics, non-Catholic Christians, and non-Christians alike. Such discussions have helped me to learn a lot about my own faith and to help me better explain and articulate it to others, especially those who have a hard time understanding Catholicism. It can, after all, be a daunting subject: 2000 years of ancient tradition, unparalleled diversity, a world-wide presence, 23 different rites…even the Pope would probably admit that he’s only scratched the surface! Not that I presume to speak for him; he does well enough speaking for himself.

 

One thing that I’ve realized is so different from any Christian denomination I can think of is that Catholic Christianity is not merely a religion, nor merely a spirituality; it is almost more like a nationality. I think this quality makes it somewhat difficult for people to grasp because even if you understood the religious aspect of Catholicism, or if you understood one aspect of its spirituality, you still might not get “it.” 

Why do I say that being Catholic is like being part of a nation? Firstly, I think that is what Christ intended: to call out of the world (this is what the word “church” originally meant in the Greek) a people uniquely His own, a people that would live their whole life with Him. Like the Jewish people were uniquely God’s people, so the Christian people would be the People of God, the difference being that all people are invited to be a member of this new nation, not merely people born into it. Being Christian should be different from being anything else; someone should be able to look at you or get to know you and realize you are different somehow. 

Catholics really do stick out; we tend to be fairly visible Christians. Whether it is our clergy in their black clothes and white collars, our sisters, nuns, brothers and monks in their habits, our little First Communicants in their little white dresses, or our Pope all in white, or even our knights in their various attire, not to mention our laity in their splendid diversity, some women wearing mantillas of black or white, people from all cultures wearing their various raiment; goodness I could go on! Ash Wednesday is a visible day for Catholics; granted we aren’t the only Christians who observe this ancient ritual but it tends to be seen as a very “Catholic” thing. We have our rosaries, our pictures of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, statues of Mary in the front yard, holy cards, scapulars and all sorts of devotionals. He have processions, Eucharistic Adoration, we have cathedrals and churches, chapels and basilicas, shrines and other places of pilgrimage. There’s just something “different” about being Catholic that isn’t necessarily true about Lutherans or Methodists for example. 

The thing about the Catholic “nation” if you will is that we don’t have a home here on Earth; we are sort of passing through. But we are very much a nation! For example, we have a King. And a Queen Mother to boot!

   

We don’t have a capitol city, but we do have an embassy. It is located in Vatican City, which is an insular country located within the great city of Rome.

 You see the great curved colonnades? They are meant to symbolize the “arms” of the Church, which embrace all people and all nations.

We also have a prime minister; our first one was appointed by our King nearly 2000 years ago and his name was Peter. He last held office in Rome but was executed, so a successor was named until he, too, was executed and so on until today. Pope Benedict XVI is the 265th prime minister of the Catholic nation. When he passes away (hopefully we are past having our popes executed but, who knows) his successor will be elected and so on until our King returns.

Our prime minister labors alongside his brother ministers, the bishops, in governing the Catholic nation throughout the world. They pray and serve with their whole life to preserve the unity of our nation and to help all its citizens to remain faithful to and in love with our King. Generally our prime minister allows his brother ministers to care for their own territory (a diocese) but on occasion the whole ministerial body must gather, as they did in the 1960s in what was known as the Second Vatican Council. It is an impressive sight:

All these ministers of the Catholic nation help keep our people together throughout the world, each facing the particular challenges present in different parts of the world. The challenges a bishop faces in China are very different from those faced in America, for example! Sometimes a bishop is the minister not of a particular region, but a group of people; for example there is an archbishop who is the pastor for all Catholics serving in the United States military.

The bishops also have local representatives in neighborhoods and communities all over the world who are in charge of nourishing and sustaining our nationality in this foreign world. You’ve probably met one yourself:

They are in charge of caring for and ministering directly to God’s people, wherever they are. Some are pastors at a local parish, some are teachers, doctors, lawyers, artists, authors, some work as hospital chaplains, military chaplains; wherever citizens of the Catholic nation are living, there are probably priests there somehow!

We have many public servants as well, people who give their whole lives to the service of their “country” and the people in it. I couldn’t begin to list all they they do, be it an active life of service doing just about everything you can imagine, to a quiet, invisible life of intense prayer for the whole world.

And of course we have our citizens! Over a billion, and counting, from every race and language, every corner of the world.

We even have our own knights and soldiers, though they play a very different role that their counterparts do “in the world.”

We of course have a long history–2000 years–whether you’d like to study it through archaeology, literature, religion, tradition or countless other ways. We have our heroes; thousands of them:

and our villains:

We have our own traditional languages including Aramaic (still used today in the Maronite Rite), Greek (the Byzantine Rite and in the “Kyrie” of the Latin Mass), Latin (Roman Rite), and more.

We have our own Pledge of Allegiance, formulated at least 1600 years ago:

I believe in God,the Father almighty,Creator of heaven and earth,and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,who was conceived by the Holy Spirit,born of the Virgin Mary,suffered under Pontius Pilate,was crucified, died and was buried;he descended into hell;on the third day he rose again from the dead;he ascended into heaven,and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty;from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.I believe in the Holy Spirit,the holy catholic Church,the communion of saints,the forgiveness of sins,the resurrection of the body,and life everlasting. Amen.

 

We have natural-born citizens:

and immigrants:

 

These are just some of the many ways I could think of that makes Catholicism more like a “nation” than simply a “religion.” We really are a people of God, passing through Earth on our way to our Heavenly homeland. There are simply a lot of things that are just “Catholic” and a part of who we are as a people, and some of those things seem pretty strange to other folk. But I for one am so grateful to belong to such a beautiful nation; it certainly makes my faith life interesting!

 

For my Catholic readers, what are some things you can think of that are “uniquely Catholic?” What are some of your favorite Catholic attributes?

For my non-Catholic readers, what are some things you notice about Catholicism that makes it so different? What are some things that make it similar to your own religion or denomination?