Dialogue with a young Catholic father

The following letter is part of a dialogue with a young Catholic father who is strongly concerned with the lack of spiritual nourishment in the Church today.  

20 June 2018

Dear friend in Christ,

As I wrote in my last memo to parishioners, one’s “spiritual life,” or mental-spiritual development, depends on the efforts a human being makes as trusting in the presence and creative power of God.  It does not depend on attending Mass or on the Sacraments, in and of themselves.  What the churches offer may invite those present to “participate worthily,” that is, to be attentive and eagerly desire God, and lovingly surrender to the ever-present One, putting His “will” into practice.  Put concretely:  what happens or does not happen in the mind / “heart” of the participant is what matters in religious services, and not what happens in space-time (externally).  What matters is utterly simple:  either one is turning towards God, or away from God.  All life is either conversion or diversion, epistrophe or apostrophe, using the technical terms developed by the Stoics.  As St. Augustine lamented in his Confessions:  “Behold, You were within, but I was without….”  External worship encourages one to linger “without,” rather than to be present within—present to and with the Presence that we by long tradition call “God.”  

The serious problem with Christianity, far beyond clerical abuses of various kinds, is clerical neglect:  the failure to help nourish parishioners with healthy, wholesome intellectual-spiritual formation and guidance.  One way to put this is simple:  Consider your own life, and imagine what your spiritual life would be without the efforts you made to study philosophy (and perhaps theology).  I consider my own example, known from within:  My family attended religious services weekly as I was growing up, but I am not aware of having received much spiritual or intellectual nourishment through them.  The same is true today:  other than some “consolation” people may get from attending religious services (and that consolation is of limited value), the benefits that I have seen have come to those men and women who took their own spiritual life seriously, who made a deliberate and conscious effort to study, pray, turn from evil, and do good; very little benefit accrues to those who passively attend any kind of service, whether evangelical, Catholic, Orthodox, and so on.  

The real problem facing human beings is how to become truly awake and alive in one’s lifetime.  Meditation and study, linked with personal discipline, as in the Christian and Buddhist traditions, does far more good than fairly mindless, passive sharing in any religious ceremonies.  The example, goodness, love from men and women who happen to be Christian of one sort or another has been highly helpful to me, but such goodness is not directly linked to attending services, or “reading the bible,” as in evangelical traditions.  Furthermore, much of the good that can be offered to persons in religious services is lost on social programs and the “social gospel,” which is indeed “no gospel at all.”  Clergy have often neglected to assist in the spiritual formation of their people, probably in large part because “one cannot give what one does not have.”  From what I hear from parishioners who attend Masses elsewhere when they travel or are away from home, they find little intellectual-spiritual meat in the preaching / teaching, but rather see emphases on outward forms of worship, entertaining music, social action programs, and the like.  In the case of Catholic clergy, many do not even struggle to prepare homilies, but download canned “homilies” off the internet, or take them from “homily helps.”  Unless the priest or minister is speaking “from faith to faith” (Romans 1), he or she is not “preaching Christ,” and helping to form the hear, but just amusing, entertaining, perhaps chastising.  The word that forms the hearer must grow out of a spirit alive in the now to the presence of God.  Otherwise, it is not the “word of God,” but mere human words of more or less mindless chatter.  If and only if the one preaching is immediately present to divine Presence is one in truth a “minister of the Word.”  In the words of the Apostle, “the written text kills, but the Spirit gives life.”  

Had I not studied philosophy and sought to practice meditation as a Benedictine monk, and not been blessed to have some truly good examples of right living and practical wisdom in my life, I think that I would have received very little spiritual-intellectual nourishment as a Catholic Christian.  What do the churches have to offer to human beings?  One often must seek God, loving and doing the truth, despite what is being done in and by the churches.  Neither the educational establishments in our society, nor the religious institutions, are now offering human beings much that is truly beneficial.  Or to put the matter differently:  unless one struggles to learn, and works hard to grow morally, intellectually, and spiritually, one will be unformed, deformed, malnourished.  Our schools, universities, churches have largely been failing to do what they ought to do, and generally pretend to do, at considerable expense.  

In Christ,

Paul

What And Who Will Most Help Your Spiritual Life?

What is a person’s “spiritual life”?  What does it mean to be “spiritually alive,” or “awake in one’s lifetime?”  I ask the question believing that spiritual life is not only good, but ought to be one’s highest priority.  And I ask it now because it is important for each of us to understand a basic truth:  you are responsible for you.  Another human being can guide you towards the right path, the way of life, but you yourself must make the effort, and you yourself must reject false paths and steadily seek and do the truth.  No other human being can live your life for you, cleanse you, “save you.”  Not even God Almighty can “save” you, cleanse your inner person, renew your spirit, unless you freely choose to share in what God freely offers from moment to moment.  You did not create yourself, but you cannot be whole or happy or truly blessed, unless you develop habits of rejecting evil and doing good, unless you truly seek to know and to do the will of God.  To better understand the dynamics of the spiritual life of a human being, let’s suspend for a few moments “God talk,” and examine the human reality in light of the truth of experience.

You say, “I am hungry,” so you feed yourself. You say, “I have toothache,” so you go to a dentist.  Now, suppose one feels confused, depressed, anxious?  All too often, one wants a quick cure, an immediate solution.  Mental and spiritual problems—confusion, sorrow, worry, hatred, ignorance—did not just happen at one time.  By various situations, and by many choices, many actions, one becomes what one is, and what one feels inside.  A person who squanders much time in entertainment or mindless activities or in drug abuse, who does not discipline himself to rise early, to work hard, to do one’s proper tasks, to spend time in quiet and meditation will, over time, becomes confused, dull of spirit, listless, troubled, anxious, depressed. With the right concentration of one’s energies on such spiritual tasks as doing one’s daily duties, working for the good of others, eating and drinking healthy foods in moderation, getting proper exercise, sitting still in the presence of God or of “no-god,” then one becomes sane, balanced, and more alert.  No one can keep eating junk food, abusing alcohol or drugs, not exercising, not nourishing the inner person through disciplined meditation and study and expect to be spiritually alive, awake, and mentally healthy.  You become what you do. 

Christians have often neglected to develop a proper spiritual-mental life, because they thought it would just happen, or the Church or Bible or God would do it for them.  The Church is here to assist you on your path into God; you yourself must make the effort, trusting in the supportive presence of God (called “grace”).  Not even the Eucharist works automatically; if you do not truly desire oneness with God even at the cost of dying to your own fleeting desires, how do you expect to “grow in grace,” to “receive the Holy Spirit,” to become truly blessed and happy?  Good things in life nearly never happen without much effort.  Unless you yourself strive to attune yourself to the all-good mind and will, to refresh yourself in Beauty, why should you expect to be happy and in peace?

May we have the good sense and discipline to listen to God and to obey regardless of the cost.  “Through much suffering one enters the Kingdom of God,” that is, lives in the peace and freedom of God.  And Christ Jesus assures us:  “Know that I AM with you always, even to the end of the age.”

On The Holy Spirit

Perhaps the most accessible truth of the Christian faith to discuss intelligently is the Holy Spirit.  Let’s begin with the words themselves.  The words “Holy Spirit” or “Spirit of God,” or “the Spirit,” are symbols in our English language for the Hebrew ruach (breath; spirit), and the Greek word pneuma (breath, spirit).  The connection between breath and spirit is still found in English words.  Consider, for examples, “inspire” and “expire.”  To “inspire” literally means “to breathe [life] into” someone, or to help bring the Spirit of God into another’s mind or heart.  The word “expire” means both “to breath out,” and “to breath one’s last,” that is, “to give up the ghost,” to give up the spirit, to die.  Where there is life, where there is breath, there is the creative Spirit of God. “The Spirit gives life,” life eternally.

What do discerning Christians mean when they speak of “the Holy Spirit?” They are not talking dogmatically, although there is the dogma of the Holy Trinity in the background, which we respect. When Christians speak of “the Holy Spirit” or “the Spirit,” they typically mean an experience of the presence of God in their soul or mind. The Spirit is the direct presence of the world-transcendent God, the One who brings all things into being. In the New Testament documents, the “Spirit” is used especially by three authors:  the Apostle Paul; the evangelist Luke; and the evangelist John.  (“Holy Spirit” or equivalents occur throughout the New Testament to a lesser degree.)  As I have often explained, in the usage of New Testament authors, when they wish to communicate the experience of God as personal, they symbolize the experiences as “Christ,” or “Christ Jesus,” or “the Risen One,” and so on.  When they write about their experiences of God as impersonal—as that which enlivens, enlightens, or cleanses, heals, teaches, guides, forgives, comforts, gives peace, and so on—they usually use the term “holy Spirit,” or equivalent.  But we know from the Gospel accounts that while the LORD was embodied as Jesus, He is often credited as the source of enlightenment, healing, peace, forgiveness and so on. After Christ’s death and Resurrection appearances, the impersonal experiences of God are credited to “the holy Spirit.”So the distinction is approximate, not complete: Christ is personal—“I love you,” “I have chosen you,” and the Spirit is impersonal:  “I was lifted up in the Spirit,” “it is the Spirit who gives life,” and so on.  As for “the Father,” the symbol reminds the believer that there is always far more reality to the depth of divinity than anyone could ever experience, no matter how life-changing the conversion or manifestation of “the Spirit,” or of “the Risen Christ.”  God remains ever beyond human grasp and comprehension. Self-enclosed experiences are gnostic, not Christian.

What is the Holy Spirit?  That is the question that slipped from my lips during a discussion with one of the greatest philosophers of the past century, whom I was questioning as I worked on my doctorate on “The Experiential Foundation of Christian Political Philosophy.” To my question “What is the Holy Spirit?,” the philosopher answered with a question that penetrated my heart:  “What do you think is moving you to ask your questions?”  As a member of a doctrinal Christian church, I had been told that asking questions showed “doubt,” or “a lack of faith.” On the contrary: to ask spiritual questions, life questions, real questions, is precisely the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart and mind of a human being; not to question shows a lack of faith. What a relief to hear this insight, which served to release me from doctrinal imprisonment.  The hallmarks of the Holy Spirit are love, joy, peace, self-control, and so on; and if one encounters an open mind, someone searching for truth about God and human being, then one is meeting a foremost activity of the Holy Spirit:  asking the right questions.

When young people ask us questions that are genuine questions, and not mere quibbling or game-playing, do we realize that they are moved by the Holy Spirit?  Or when you say to God, “Do you love me?,” do you wonder, “Am I asking this question of God, or is God asking it of me?  Or both at once?”  If you ask God in prayer, “LORD, what would you have me do?,” you are motivated by the holy Spirit.  If you think you have God figured out, or that the Bible or the Church has “all the answers,” and you refuse to question and to search, then you are thwarting the liberating action of the Holy Spirit in your life. Are you living by the Spirit, or by the flesh—that is, by trusting in God’s presence, or by your own fleeting desires?  The Spirit ever draws one beyond the bounds of a self-contained, self-centered existence into “the freedom of the children of God,” into ever expanding horizons.  Life without self-imposed boundaries is the realm of the Holy Spirit. To enter into it is to enter into “heaven,” the Kingdom of God, eternal happiness.  Amen!

On The "Ascension Of Christ"

 Is Jesus Christ present or absent?  If present, in what way(s) is Christ present?  If absent, where is he?  Where has Christ gone?  Does he live “up in the sky with the angels,” or somewhere in the abyss of space, on a strange planet?  These questions are those of a child or of a fundamentalist, not of someone mature in Christ.  But the question, “How is Christ present, while being absent in body?” is indeed a good and fruitful question.  “Seek and you will find.”

 The oldest Christian documents (the letters of the Apostle Paul, the Gospels, other NT epistles) do not ask these questions directly or as boldly.  Rather, they begin with real experiences, and express their experiences of God in Christ in the symbolic language of the New Testament.  There is no way to speak of non-physical, non-existent reality except in symbols; and one without experience of their truth may misunderstand the symbolic meaning or consider them to be “meaningless.”  In fact, the symbolic language of spiritual experience is precise within its own kind, and is highly meaningful, as generations of the faithful will attest based on their own faith and love in Christ Jesus.

Here are some typical symbolic formulations about the murdered and living Christ:  “This Jesus whom you crucified is not here [in the tomb]; He is risen.”  “Jesus Christ is Lord of the dead and of the living.” Or in words attributed to the Resurrected,  “Behold, I AM  with you always, even to the end of the age.”  The expressions of faith in Christ as risen from the dead, as God’s means of ruling over human beings (hence, called “Lord” or Ruler), and as present with his disciples are abundantly found in the earliest Christian writings, long before doctrines had been formulated and fixed, as in the Nicene Creed (321).  “For me to live is Christ; to die is gain.” 

The fundamental experience of the risen Christ is always paradoxical:  for Christ is both absent and present at the same time.  He is absent physically, so that one cannot see a body or hear his voice with one’s ears; but He is present in spirit in the depths of the believer, who has opened himself up to the presence of the living God.  The presence of the Risen Christ is variously symbolized as the “I AM with you,” as “Christ is in you,” or in the more impersonal symbol of “the Spirit of Christ is in you.”  In other words, although Jesus is not physically present, He is very much spiritually present and active in the hearts and minds of the faithful who open their hearts to the LORD’s presence.  Indeed, this opening of the mind and heart to Christ is what is meant by “conversion,” by “coming to faith.”  Faith is not a belief about Jesus, but fundamentally a loving surrender right now to His presence.  “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone opens the door [of the heart], I will come in and commune with him, and he with me.”  The faithful also understand Christ to be sacramentally present in the proclaimed word and in the Eucharist.  “Take and eat; this is my body, which is for you; do this in memory of Me.”

These are the issues at stake in the symbolization of Christ’s “Ascension:”  not only is Christ risen and alive, but He is active as the presence of the living God who liberates, sanctifies, guides, heals, challenges, rules over those who obey Him.  Do not look for a body floating around in space, or for the “Son of God” living on a planet somewhere.  These childish beliefs serve to keep God away, to live an autonomous life without the indwelling God.  Rather, listen for the “still small voice” of the One who communes, heart to heart, with a trusting and loving human being.  It is really that simple.  Visual arts portray Jesus as a body disappearing behind clouds, but visual arts must use the physical to disclose the spiritual.  Music is less hindered by physical representation.  In the music of Schütz or J. S. Bach, for example, one encounters the risen and glorified Christ directly in sound, without being masked by clouds.  In their glorious compositions, they directly communicate Jesus Christ.  “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.”  And Christ most surely does enter into the mind that is still seeking, who knows it does not know, and longs for a deeper communion. The Risen Christ does indeed come to “the poor in spirit,” to those who question, seek, stay awake, are attentive, listen.  Or Christ can ask, “Have I been with you for so long, and yet you do now know me?” 

The Good Shepherd Versus Bad Shepherding

REVISED from April 21, 2018

The ancient Hebrew Scriptures (our “Old Testament”) provide rich symbols for the Reign of God over His people:  God is “the King,” in the sense of the rightful ruler by whom all human rulers are measured, and found wanting; God is “the Holy One of Israel,” the true standard, fulfillment, and joy of His people, who liberates from evil and sin; and God is the Good Shepherd, who guides and nourishes His people, even as He punishes and destroys those who betray and mislead His people.  In chapter 10 of St. John’s Gospel, Jesus applies the symbol of “the Good Shepherd” to Himself, as He works for God, under God, with God, and is in truth the embodiment of God in humanity:  “I AM the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for His sheep.”  Good shepherding is personally costly; otherwise, it is spurious. 

Any one who goes by the name of “pastor” or “shepherd,” working in Christ’s body, and particularly in the churches, must seek to “shepherd My people rightly,” seeking their spiritual well-being, and not “fleecing” them for money or for benefits, as the prophet Ezekiel strongly warns. What is it that keeps a pastor or shepherd from fulfilling God’s will and the divine assignment to “shepherd My people”?  A pastoral letters attributed to the Apostle Paul warns, “the love of money is the root of all evil.”  And we should add to that:  the love of power, the desire to dominate others, utterly betrays genuine pastoral ministry in the Church.  Examples of such betrayals can readily be found in the history of the various churches, and are usually not hard to find—even as “evil loves to hide,” and is often shamelessly covered up by those in high places.  To any priest or minister who has fleeced Christ’s people, rather than diligently sought to build them up in faith, hope, and love, the biblical warnings are strong.  In St. Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus most sternly warns:  “whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.”  False shepherds, fake pastors, parents or teachers who betray their sacred trust, all stand warned by Jesus Christ Himself.  And this warning to those who work under Christ for the well-being of His people is an essential part of Christ as the Good Shepherd.  For the Good Shepherd shows most of us to have been less than good shepherds, and often as derelict of duties, fleecers, abusers, even destroyers of human beings. 

The Good Shepherd is the just Judge:  “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may be recompensed for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad” (II Cor 5:10).   Because the Good Shepherd is the measure of humanity, each of us must ever examine himself or herself in light of Christ.  We must not presume that we will be let off lightly because we were “ordained,” or called “priest” while on earth—or granted the gift to be a parent or teacher.  On the contrary, Christ warns us:  “To whom much is given, much is required” (Luke 12:48).  Woe to me if I have lead anyone in our parishes astray.  It will not go well with me in eternity if I have chosen ill-begotten gain and the lust to dominate others, or to use others for my benefit, rather than continually and faithfully seek the spiritual well-being of those entrusted to my care. 

Jesus as the Good Shepherd remains the model and the measure of the Church.  When we spend ourselves in lovingkindness for others, when we seek the genuine well-being of ourselves and of each other, when we speak the truth regardless of the cost to us personally, when we restrain ourselves from evil and do good, then Christ’s rule as Good Shepherd is effective in and through us.  But when we in the Church deceive people, and lie, and steal from parishioners, or cover up crimes, or neglect the spiritual welfare of those in our care because we are too much “in love with the world,” then we must know and understand with shocking clarity that the “day of the LORD will suddenly overtake us,” and we risk having Christ declare:  “Get away from me, you evil-doer, into the everlasting fire” (cf. Matthew 7:23).  Brothers and sisters, each of us stands warned.  And this warning is part of the role of “shepherding my people rightly.”  Despite churchianity, it is not all sweetness and flowers. 

May the all-good God have mercy on us, and help us genuinely to repent, change our ways, and seek the spiritual and human well-being of one another.  The Good Shepherd demands this action of us.

"The Kingdom Of God Is At Hand"

From St. Mark’s Gospel appointed to be read this Sunday, we hear the following summary statement:  “After John had been arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God.  `This is the time of fulfillment.  The Kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent, and believe in the gospel.’” 

This statement by the evangelist includes a most simple, clear, complete presentation of the basic gospel of Christ.  Note at the outset that St. Mark has Jesus’ ministry begin only after John the Baptizer was arrested.  It was the kairos, the critical and opportune time for Jesus to act.  He acts by preaching the gospel.  St. Mark assures us that Jesus begin his ministry in his home territory of Galilee, where he would no doubt have relatives and friends, and where he “knows the territory.”   Also note that the phrase “proclaiming the gospel of God” is not usual; it occurs here and once in the wirings of the Apostle Paul (Romans 15:16), but otherwise, is not found in the New Testament.  The phrase usually found is “the gospel of Christ,” meaning not what Jesus taught, but rather the story of what God has done for all of humankind in Jesus Christ, and especially through the Incarnation, death, and Resurrection of Christ.  “The Gospel of God” brings out the origin of this good news for humankind:  it comes from the unknown God, and has as its purpose the plan to bring all of humankind into a full and eternal union with God.  Ultimately, the gospel is about God, although as we can see in the New Testament, no writer presumes to speak directly on who or what God is.  Symbolic language is employed, and actions, to display the character of the God of the gospel.  As an example of symbolic language, call to mind the Parable of the Prodigal Son, in which the evangelist Luke portrays God as the all-loving, merciful Father, who never gives up on either of his sons.  As an example of symbolic action displaying the character of God, the outstanding case by far is the suffering and death of Jesus out of love for his fellow human beings, to bring us to God.  In his suffering and death, fulfilled in the Resurrection, Christ demonstrates at once the infinite and unfailing love of God with mercy and patience for us sinners, and the power of God’s Life over sin and even death itself.  In the gospel, God triumphs in human beings. 

Next we briefly consider the content of Jesus’ initial proclamation, worth our time, for it contains a complete gospel in miniature:  “This is the time of fulfillment.  The Kingdom of God is at hand.  Repent, and believe in the gospel.”  If understood properly, that is sufficient to communicate the message of Jesus Christ.  Nothing elaborate, no gnostic speculation on God, no rigid “do’s and don’ts,” no ideological nonsense.  Just KISS:  “Keep it simple, stupid.”  What follows is not, I hope, simplistic, but simple clear, true, and to the point. 

 “This is the time of fulfillment” is literally, from the Greek, “The Kairos is fulfilled.”  Kairos means the critical time, the time for decision and action.  “NOW is the right Moment!”  The Apostle Paul refers to the same insight frequently:  “But NOW is Christ risen…”  By genuine, simple faith, one lives NOW, in the now, in this precise moment God gives you.  God is not in the past, or in some imagined future.  Rather, God is always now and only now—the eternal Now.  And the Now of God is the moment for human beings to be attentive, to make critical choices, to act on them.  In other terms:  the law and the prophets—including John the Baptizer—were all preparation.  NOW God is acting in the most decisive, complete way in and through Jesus.

 “The Kingdom of God is at hand.”  Indeed it is, for “Jesus is himself the Kingdom,” as the early church Father Origen wrote.  In the person, deeds, and words of Jesus Christ, God is fully present, acting, accomplishing His will for each and for all.  God’s Kingdom is not some earthly ordering of affairs, not a place to go, not a political or imagined “kingdom” at all—and not the institutional Church, either.  Rather, God’s Kingdom is God’s Presence in Christ, which is liberating, forgiving, healing, triumphing over evil, and above all, “reconciling the world to Himself.”  In the Kingdom, God and man are made one here and now, and forever.  God’s Kingdom is light, love, joy, and peace, for all who enter.  Want to see the Kingdom?  See, love, obey Christ.  And how does one enter the Kingdom?”

“Repent, and believe in the Gospel.”  “Repent” translates the Greek word metanoeite, which literally means, “change your mind, your heart,” or in plain language, “get a new attitude.”  But even better:  the Greek for “repent” translates the Hebrew word meaning “Turn around!”  It is that simple and direct.  “Stop going in the direction you are heading, turn back towards God, and enter the Kingdom of his Presence, for it is all good, true, beautiful.”  “Believe in the gospel” does not mean “believe the wirings of a book,” but far more simply and profoundly:  “Trust this message of life, true life!”  This means, in effect, “rejoice and be glad,” “enter into God with rejoicing,” and “cast all your cares on God, who cares for you” (I Peter).  This message is not negative at all, and should not be cheapened into such a message as “Give up candy and sex, and you will enter the kingdom of God,” or any such thing.  The words of Jesus are completely positive, uplifting, life-affirming.  Christ is utterly convinced that God is all good, and so entering into His Presence brings one happiness, fulfillment, peace, energy, and a joy that nothing in the world could destroy.  “Rejoice, dear friends, for God’s love and life are NOW.”

"Whatsoever You Did To My Brothers And Sisters"

 

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory…then He will say, `Come, you who are blessed by my Father, and inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world….I was hungry and you gave me food, thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, sick and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.’” 

These words of Jesus, and similar words in this parable or story, are rich in meaning, and deeply appreciated by many of us.  “I was hungry, and you fed me.”  Christ identifies himself with all of humankind, with every one of us, in our sufferings, and in our kindnesses towards others.  And he warns us that he does not find himself in those of us who turn our back on a fellow human being in need.  How clear the words, how life-changing the meaning.  “LORD, when did we see you hungry?”  “Whatsoever you did to the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did to Me.” 

This passage, only found in St. Matthew’s Gospel, presents a glorious image of Christ as ruler of humanity.  But unlike our human rulers, he is not part of an elite, removed from our daily lives, and sending out his commands for us to obey.  On the contrary, He rules from within us, from being one with us, because in this vision of humanity, every human being is a member of the Body of Christ.  If this is what we mean by “the kingship of Christ,” know this:  it is utterly unlike any political ruler you or I have seen or read about.  This is the rightful Ruler of humankind, because He is us, He is not only our “head,” but is present in and with every member, from the greatest to the least.  Here is the true human Ruler, who let’s our sufferings be his sufferings, and our needs be his needs.  Compared to Christ the true Ruler, every human authority and power is shown to be inadequate—not evil, not to be destroyed, but all are wanting, and sometimes to be pitied in their being “all too human.”  Not so with Christ Jesus:  He alone is the true Ruler, because He is Everyman written large, in each and every one of us from the moment of conception into eternity. 

The title “Christ the King” is misleading, because it falls far too short of the reality of Christ.  Jesus Christ the rightful Ruler, because He is one with each and with all of us.  He makes Himself one with us.  He has assumed our nature, and is taking us into God.  In other words, Christ is divinizing us from within, and transforming us into the Kingdom of God.  “Who are my brothers and sisters?” 

“Whatsoever you did to the least of my brothers and sisters, you did to Me.”  Those words must echo and resound in our hearts, until they form us anew.  Do you want to know what God’s will is for you, for the rest of your life?  “Whatsoever you did to the least…you did for Me.”

To God be glory and honor, now and forever, with thanksgiving, for He has made us One with Him.  Amen.

"Give To Caesar What Is Caesar's, And To God What Is God's"

Few of Christ’s words are so well known by Christians and non-Christians alike, and few of the sayings attributed to Christ have had such an enormous influence on Christian understanding of life, politics, and personal obligations.  In its context in the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke), the saying is even richer and more profound than is generally realized. For most of the so-called “Christian centuries,” however, Christ’s words were used to bolster the Gelasian “doctrine of the two swords,” asserting that each human being must give respect and offerings to both the Emperor and to the Church.  According to this teaching of long standing in the Church, human beings must obey and pay tribute to the Roman Emperor and to the Church, represented above all by the Pope in Rome.  But Jesus did not say, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to the Church what is the Church’s." Simply put, the Church is not God, the Pope is not Christ, and placing the institutional Church or hierarchs in the position of God is spiritually and politically wrong and dangerous.  Nor did Christ intend to fossilize the Roman Emperor into an authority to be ever respected and obeyed; he knew well that all human powers and authorities pass away in time.  Jesus was not impressed with the power of Rome, nor with any human authority, civil or religious. So what is the intent of this gospel passage, and what might Christ be saying to us through it?

 To interpret these words of Christ, or anyone’s words properly, one must always take into account the context in which they were spoken.  In the case of “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s,” as presented in the Gospels, the context is that of a trap being set for Jesus by Pharisees and Herodians—that is, by the super-pious, self-righteous ones and by the cynical, secular souls of the power elites.  These groups hated Jesus, and sought ways to destroy him.  Why?  He provoked them by his wisdom and his radical reliance on God alone, and Christ challenged everything about their empty lives.  Jesus was more than a thorn in their side; they experienced him as a source of destruction for all that they held dear:  for the rigorous interpretation of the Law exalted by Pharisees, for pious self-righteousness, and for the power-loving spiritual emptiness of the “powers that be,” represented by the clique around King Herod (“Herodians”). Their question is a genuine search for truth, but a clever trap set to bring down the naked power of Rome on the head of Jesus—to have him killed as a political revolutionary:  “Now, is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?”  If Jesus answers affirmatively, “Yes, one must pay taxes,” then the masses who revere him as a true Man of God will be turned off by his conniving with the hated Roman oppressors.  If Jesus answers, “No, do not pay taxes to Caesar, a false god,” then these clever connivers will turn Christ over to Rome for teaching open disobedience and rebellion. And Pilate was all too eager to crucify another rebellious Jew to protect Roman power.

I will save for this week’s homily some fuller comments on Christ’s brilliant answer, and how he side-stepped their trap—and trapped them. Suffice it to note now that Jesus turned the tables onto his slick-wicked opponents, and trapped the rigorous Pharisees in their false-consciousness:  they were not truly worshipping God, but money, power, Caesar, and self.  For he asked his would-be trappers to bring him a coin, and they produced one quickly, perhaps out of their money bag.  Then Jesus asked them a question:  “Whose image is this, and whose inscription?” They knew well:  “Caesar’s.” These men could readily recognize the image of the Emperor, and his name on money, but they could not recognize the Image of God standing right in front of them.  The reason these men hated Jesus and sought to trap him was because they were spiritually blind and wicked:  their shrunken souls could recognize Caesar and his image on money, but they could not recognize the Presence of God in Jesus Christ—God’s Image in Christ, and in every human being they met. “Blind guides” indeed.

Practical upshot:  If the Emperor or the “powers that be” demand your money, pay your taxes.  It is just money. And cheating on taxes is wrong and immoral.  But give to God what is God’s—your heart, mind, and soul.  And one’s faith and love of God are genuine if and only if one recognizes and respects the Image of the living God in every human being one meets. “And who is my neighbor?” asks a man trying to avoid God’s Image in human beings.  To whom do you owe respect, kindness, charity, and truth?  To Christ, and to every member of his Body—that is, to every one you meet.

God's Kingdom and the Fruit of the Harvest

 Autumn, harvest time.  In German, the word for autumn is “Herbst,” a word cognate with our word “harvest” (English is a west German language, after all).  The readings for these two weeks have at least one clear theme, developed in various autumnal colors:  God is looking for a fruitful harvest from his people. And that means:  from you, from me.  You and I must “bring God’s Kingdom” by faithfully and loving doing what is good, and “speaking the truth from the heart.” 

Three of our Gospels often place on Jesus’ lips the symbol, “the Kingdom of God,” or in Matthew’s equivalent, “the Kingdom of heaven.”  (As a devout Jew, St. Matthew did not want to take the sacred name of God on his lips, lest he sin.) We find in these three Gospels “parables of the Kingdom.”  The “Kingdom” is not some earthly ordering of affairs, not “heaven,” not “the Church.” These are three common and widespread misunderstandings of Jesus’ symbol.  The phrase is not used by Jesus in St. John’s Gospel; rather, he there Jesus speaks of “eternal life,” which does not mean “afterlife,” but “God’s life,” and our life as lived in union with what we call “God.”  The “Kingdom of God” means, at various times, God’s Presence among human beings; God’s way of doing things; the mind of the Almighty (His plan for all creation); God’s life shared with his creatures; and so on.  It is an extremely rich symbol, but one easily misunderstood.  Just keep in mind: wherever you see goodness, beauty, truth, and justice, you are seeing what Jesus points to as “the Kingdom of God” being realized here and now. 

Apparently, Jesus agrees with the anonymous prophet known as “Second Isaiah” (chapter 40-55 of Isaiah):  “God’s ways are not our ways.”  Whereas we expect God to reward those who deserve greater rewards more richly, in the parables we hear this week and next, we are assured that God acts as He wills, and is not limited by our expectations or sense of justice. “Are you envious because I am generous?”  Who are we to complain if God chooses to lavish his richest blessings on those who are tardy, who turn their lives over to God even late in life?  No one can earn God’s favor; it is freely and generously given. 

 Clearly, what God is waiting for, and seeking to bring about, is a wholehearted response in each of us, which will “bear fruit richly for the Kingdom.” Those who are slack or lazy or prefer to spend their lives playing around with their toys and games accomplish little good, and do not help to further “God’s way of doing things.” Those who are diligent to use whatever skills, gifts, talents they have for the spiritual and material benefits of others are “children of the Light,” or “sons and daughters of God.” Do not be fooled: those who do good, and do it generously, are agents of God’s Kingdom, whether they attend church or not, are ministers or not, or whether they “believe” or not.  What God wants is a loving response to His ways, not lip service, and surely not churchy pretense. 

Not just our actions, but our inner attitudes must be in harmony with God’s ways, rather than those of covetous or grasping human beings, who are “anxious and troubled about many things.”  We hear Christ’s Apostle tell his disciples, “Have no anxiety about anything,” but trust in God and give him thanks.  “And then the peace of God, which surprises all understanding,” will keep our hearts and minds in Christ—that is, centered in God’s heart, in God’s Kingdom.  The peace that God gives is “the fruit of righteousness,” the inner reward to a human being who does not just “believe,” but who puts into practice what the LORD teaches us in word and by the Holy Spirit dwelling in us.  Rightful action and the renunciation of evil and selfish ways brings one into God’s peace. 

And if anything looks and feels like the Kingdom of God on earth, it is the heart and soul of a man or woman who simply, quietly, energetically does the will of God—cooperates with the Spirit, who “blows where he wills.”  As Jesus prayed before being tortured to death:  “Not my will, but your will be done.”  And consider the enormous, bountiful harvest of Christ’s righteous deeds, even unto death.  So it is in those who live God’s Kingdom here and now.

"Who Do You Say I Am?"

Jesus searchingly asks his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?”  The episode in the Synoptic Gospels (Mark, Matthew, Luke) in which Jesus asks this questions occurs within a fairly long and complex narrative.  For our present purpose—which is more for meditation or reflexion—I will not engage in a scholarly interpretation, but bring out some of the meanings which the evangelist seems to be intending.  In other words, why does Matthew report this question with its context?  What is he saying to us, and why? Homilies this week-end and next will present, I hope, more insights into Christ’s Question than can be offered here.

A master teacher asks a probing question to guide his hearer, his disciple. Christ is the master Teacher and the master questioner. He does not crank out facile answers, but leaves his hearers wondering and seeking the truth by means of questions and provocative stories—often, in his justly famous parables. Heard well and properly, the parables lead one to make a firm decision for or against God. The questions open up a mind to reality, to being examined and searched by God:  “Why you are afraid?  Don’t you have faith?”  “How long have I been with you, and yet you do not know me?”  “When the Son of Man returns, will he find any faith on earth?” And today’s great question, the decisive one: “Who do you say that I am?”  The answer we give is the life we live—or seek to live.

Jesus is not looking for “the right answer,” for a correct, churchy formulation, such as “You are the Second Person of the Trinity,” or “You are true God and true man,” or even “You are the Christ, the Messiah.” The formulas may be true enough, within the limits of words, and if properly understood; but Christ is looking for far more than words: He is seeking to cause a revelation. Yes, Jesus Christ has come to us, not to cause a revolution in society, but to provoke a revelation in his hearer. By his question, Christ is verbally laying his hand on the heart of his disciples, and seeking to pull back the veil that keeps them from seeing the truth of reality. He does not credit this divine action of unveiling or revealing to himself, but He credits the working of the unknown God, through the word of Christ, in the depth of his hearer’s heart: “No human being has revealed this to you, but my Father.”  “The Father” is Jesus’ name for the unknown God, the depths of divinity beyond anything that can be known, felt, seen, experienced in any way. Beyond the Christ who questions you, is the unbounded One, that which simply is, the I AM. 

The I AM indeed: for what “the angel of the LORD (Yahweh)” does to Moses at the burning bush, Jesus is now doing in the minds and hearts of his chosen disciples. The kind of response Moses gives to the Presence is extremely rare in human history, and so it is even among the disciples of Christ. For only one man speaks up, only one enters into the divine-human dialogue which Jesus instigates. The other 11 disciples remain silent; whether or not their minds have been unveiled on this occasion, we do not know.  Perhaps, at this point, their inner hearts remain veiled. Why? The mystery of divine election (choice) is at work. Christ invited each man to open up to the truth of who he is, but on this occasion, only one responds, only one enters into the process of revelation.  Jesus acknowledges this revolution of revelation: “Blessed are you, Simon Bar Jonah, for no human being revealed this to you, but my Father.  And I tell you, you are Petros (Peter, Rocky), and on this rock foundation (petra), I will build my Community.” On what foundation is the community of Christ founded? Not on the man Peter or on any particular human being, but on the process of revelation in a human being—on the unveiling that takes place, not in a book or in an institution, but in a human being. 

In you, in me, either the unveiling of our heart takes place to see and to communicate with the living God in Christ, or it does not. What matters is not information, but formation:  One must be formed by Christ’s word, and respond with a quiet openness that allows the unknown God to pull back the veil covering the human heart from divine reality. When the unveiling occurs, then one enters into “the Kingdom of God,” that is, then one lives in God and for God. And that is a real spiritual revolution.

Elijah Hears

Perhaps to save time during our divine liturgies (Mass), the readings selected for our hearing are often highly abbreviated, often neglecting their original context.  As heard at Mass, these readings have some meaning, and some spiritual value for the person who is attentive and thinks about what was proclaimed.  It would be far better if our parishioners were accustomed to reading the entire passage from which the abbreviated reading was drawn, but rarely have I heard of anyone making the effort.  Still, I recommend the practice:  read the excerpted passage in context.

The story of Elijah on Mount Horeb, which we hear read at Mass this week-end (the first reading appointed for the 19th Sunday of ordinary time, Year A) is so truncated that much of the intended meaning and significance is lost.  On the other hand, the few sentences which we hear read are rich in meaning, for one who makes the effort to understand them and apply them to his or her own spiritual life.  Again, I must wonder:  How many of our parishioners make this kind of effort?  In truth, I do not know, but few usually admit to “hearing the word” in what was read or proclaimed.  If we are not attentive to the stirring of the silent Word, how do we tune in to God?

The excerpt is from chapter 19 of I Kings in the Hebrew Scriptures, and is part of the Elijah cycle which has been preserved for many centuries.  Although chapter 19 does not stand alone, at least if one reads it closely, one should gain insights into what the anonymous author of the text is trying to communicate to his readers.  Indeed, without reading the chapter in the original Hebrew, but in several respectable English translations, much comes across: chapter 19 of I Kings is, among other things, a profound insight into healthy spirituality.  At the same time, it eclipses and surpasses the kinds of interpretations that one can receive from the stories of Moses on Mount Sinai.  (Note: Sinai and Horeb are the same mountain, as named differently by the two Israelite kingdoms.). Or in other words, the story of Elijah on Mount Horeb tells us what is especially significant in the Book of Exodus’ account of Moses on Mount Sinai.  In reading the story of the Exodus, it is easy to become fascinated by the spectacular, and miss the “sound of silence,” the darkness and quiet in which God communicates Himself to Moses. It is precisely this kind of communion with the unknown God that comes to the fore in the story of Elijah on Horeb.

The prophet Elijah bears his name meaning “Yahweh is my God.”  Elijah is the true successor to Moses—not the kings of Israel and Judah, and not various religious voices and practices that led the Chosen People into worship of false gods. What is at stake is the truth of God and the truth of human existence under and in God. The people have been led astray, deceived by the failed institutions of kingship and priesthood. The prophet Elijah becomes the one place where God breaks in and acts decisively—not a Temple or a king, however exalted. Elijah fled to Horeb, driven by his fear of death as threatened by Queen Jezebel; out of fear Elijah loses sight of his vocation as prophet.  So in fear Elijah fled into the wilderness—away from political and priestly institutions—and sat to rest under a broom bush—a reference back to the bush out of which God addressed Moses in “the burning bush.”  But now the angel of the LORD sends Elijah on a 40-day journey up to “the Mountain of God,” Horeb / Sinai. 

On Mount Sinai / Horeb, Elijah hears the word of the LORD addressing him with the penetrating question: `Why are you here, Elijah?’”  The fleeing prophet responds:  “I am moved by zeal for Yahweh, the God of Hosts, for the Israelites have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and put Your prophets to the sword.  I alone am left, and they are out to take my life.”  “Come out,” Yahweh called, “and stand on the mountain before YHWH.”  And then “the LORD passed by,” with mighty wind, earthquake, and fire, but Yahweh was in none of these.  “And after the fire—a soft murmuring sound [or, a still, small voice].  When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his mantel about his face and went and stood at the entrance of the cave” (I Kgs 19, NewJPS translation).

Parables of the Kingdom: Treasure and a Pearl of Great Price

After telling several parables to his disciples, Jesus asks, “Do you understand all these things?” “Yes,” they replied, in their all-too-quick fashion.  In truth, has anyone really understood well and completely the meaning of Christ’s parables of the kingdom? One understands by living them well.  Whom do we know who has lived the gospel well, but Christ Jesus, and his blessed Mother—and various saints, all to some imperfect yet beautiful degree. As Origen wrote (184-253 AD):  “Jesus is himself the Kingdom.”  Do you know of a better Kingdom of God than the fullness of God’s presence in Jesus Christ, and hence to a degree, in us, the body of Christ?   

“The Kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.”  Jesus shows us what is of ultimate value or worth in human life:  discovering God in Him, loving Him, following Him, obeying Him, rejoicing in Him.  “My happiness lies in God alone,” sings the Psalmist, who has found in God alone his pearl of infinite value. Whoever finds God, finds the Pearl of great price. Whoever does not find God, however rich or powerful, comes up empty.

But here is the uniqueness of finding God:  the One who is found is found to be ever with, in, and beyond the one finding. The God who is found is utterly inexhaustible, a spring of pure water ever flowing up out of the depths of the unseen earth. “The one who seeks, finds.” And the person who truly finds finds that he must keep seeking, as St. Anselm teaches.  And he must keep loving, following, obeying, or what he has found will be lost again.  It is not that this Pearl of great price is slippery, like an eel; rather, we are inconstant, unsteady in our love affair with the all-loving One.  And so we must seek to fall in love again and again—just as two married folks must keep striving to love each other ever afresh, here and now, and not say with Pushkin:  “I loved you once, I love you still—perhaps.”  That is not love, nor is it the way of life for one who keeps falling in love with the God who “loved His own in the world, and loved them to the End” (John 13).

 “Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new; late have I loved You.  Behold you were with me, but I was not with you.  You were within, but I was without, spending myself on these things that ultimately do not satisfy, and would not be at all if You did not will them to be.”  The true lover of God, like St. Augustine in his Confessions paraphrased here, knows that he has “only just begun,” and in truth does not love as he knows and wants to love.  And yet, even to taste, even to begin to live God in Christ, the Pearl of infinite value, one begins to leave the world of passing things and enter into communion with that which simply is. 

“He who begins to love begins to leave.  Many there are who are leaving Babylon, and yet they do not know it. And yet they are leaving by the affections of their heart” (Augustine on the Psalms). “Ubi caritas et amor, Dei ibi est.” “Where charity and love are, there is God.” One who loves has indeed found the Pearl of great price, “the many-splendored thing.”