Deacon Dan Wright

Sunday Homily: The Prophets of Our Time

About 10 years ago when I was finishing up the process of formation for being ordained as a deacon, I recall one class session in which we were asked to identify the prophets of our time. I recall hearing the names, among others, of Pope John Paul II, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Martin Luther King Jr., Dorothy Day, Gandhi, and Archbishop Oscar Romero. Something I noticed was that, other than two or three notable contemporary names, we tended to select figures from the past 40 years or so of recent history.

It seems a fairly easy task to identify the prophets of the past—say the ancient prophets of the Bible, or perhaps those more recent historical figures who have made an impression in terms of faith on our world or nation. However, it becomes a little more difficult to identify those who are the prophets of our own time. Especially we tend not to see the prophets who live among us, those who in our day and age, and perhaps in our own communities, call out to us and direct our attention to those situations that cry out from God. Perhaps the difficulty is not so much in recognizing the prophets as it is in being able to accept their message.

I'm sure that we can easily think of more than a few situations in our world that could bring about a prophetic warning, and which would either be the cause for decisive action or outright rejection of the bearer of the message. Probably a foremost example in the minds of Catholic Christians is the situation of legalized abortion.

Given that abortion divides our country, it comes to mind easily on this Independence Day weekend when we also consider what is important to us in our identity as a nation of people. Surely, we think, a prophet among us will direct our attention—even more so the attention of our elected leaders—to such an abomination and disregard for human life as abortion. Indeed every instance of disregard for human life is an abomination. Therefore, would a prophet not also direct our attention to reach out in such a way that no one would ever feel compelled to have an abortion in the first place?

Indeed, there are multiple situations in our times that cry out for a prophet to awaken our hearts. Again, as we celebrate Independence Day weekend, many people may be thinking about those who currently defend our country by their military service. We also remember those who served in the past, perhaps they offered the ultimate sacrifice of giving their lives, and we offer thankful prayers on behalf of those who preserved our freedom by their service.

However, as we look toward the future of a world that will be home to our children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren, a prophet among us will direct us to pray and work even more fervently for peace in our world and in theirs. A prophet will ask us to question the legitimacy of going to war except where all other possibilities have been utterly exhausted. A prophet will see war as an abomination and will tell us that a just war in our day and age has become increasingly improbable and unlikely. A prophet will demand that we make world peace our priority out of respect for all human life. If we truly believe that God is love, then we will look into the eyes of our enemies and see enemies no longer.

Again, looking toward our future generations, a prophet among us will direct us to be a people of vision in creating a hospitable world in terms of environment, health, sustenance and economy. A prophet will direct us against the destruction of our planet. He or she will urge us to change the way we live by better using renewable resources and to abandon those things of the past that have damaged the quality of our world. A prophet will speak to us of justice and urge that we take responsibility for quality of life for all people in every place. A prophet will ask that we be willing to sacrifice from our vast wealth for betterment of all. A prophet will ask us to be a people of courage, of moral strength, of resolve, but also of love, compassion, and clemency.

However, I think that above all other things a prophet in our day will ask us to reconnect with God spiritually. The voice of the prophet in our world asks us to experience God afresh so that we might be empowered to build a new world on the foundations of justice, righteousness, healing, and peace.

The prophets among us demand that we respect the faith and traditions of others and that we speak of their faith with honor and reverence. They demand that we embrace all with the love that Christ has for the Church. Yet the same prophets demand that we respect and revere our own faith and that we speak up to defend it against those who deem it as a legitimate target of prejudice and derision.

The prophetic voice is one that points us to radical grace of the true life in Jesus Christ in which the guilt and mistakes of the past are no more. The prophet today urges us to reestablish a relationship with God in which we no longer treat others with fear, suspicion, and judgment but where we show willingness to listen, dialogue, and thereby accomplish the works of peace, humility, healing, and hope.

It is truly a difficulty to identify the prophets of our own time—even more those of our own community—but nevertheless they are among us. In all likelihood we may not recognize them: our hearts may be turned against their words. We may have an agenda of our own that takes precedence over other things. It may be that we prefer to be guided by the political voices of our times or by the morality and standards of a world that refuses to consider that a word from God is possible at all.

When we sit down to read the news, and when we read of the woes—of wars, poverty, immorality, disease, and death—we must ask what voice speaks to us today of this world, and what voice of a prophet there is to direct us to a new world, a new life, based on a reality formed in the image of he who came to give us hope for tomorrow.

While the prophets of today may not be easy to identify, and those who are identified are surely to encounter opposition as such, we can nevertheless know that prophetic situations exist among us now as much as, perhaps even more than, at any other time in human history. In a way that we may not have yet considered, the Holy Spirit has given the role of prophet to the Church. Each of us shares by virtue of Baptism in Christ's role as priest, prophet, and king.

While prophets will come and go, and some are surely to be great, we do well to bear in mind that each of us is to share in the voice of the prophet by standing up and acting for what is good, righteous, decent, just, and true. Each of us is to be a defender of the faith in everything it means to live faith by building a world of lasting peace, hope, healing, and restoration.

On Authenticity

In the absence of the parish pastor, I offered a communion service at 7:00 this morning. Late yesterday evening, after the conclusion of my attending a two-day conference for special educators, I had a chance to look at the lectionary readings for today. It was easy to see that I shouldn't need notes for my brief homily because the readings spoke strongly to me of something that I have reflected on plenty, namely, authenticity in the practice of our faith.

We simply never know when we are sowing a seed of some kind that will reach someone somewhere. Nearly 25 years ago—as a slightly older than average college student—I experienced something that I had never really known before. An acquaintance, with whom I had really just begun to become friends, was tragically killed in an auto accident. I've reflected on it a lot, and I believe that this event, among others of course, played an important role in my becoming Catholic and in my turning to the faith in my human need.

Paula was in her early 20s and was the kind of person who had everything going for her. Anyone you asked would have said she was destined for greatness. I didn't know her well at the time except through close friends and mutual acquaintances. My experience was that she always treated me in a kind, warm, and accepting manner, and she accepted me as a friend. Her loss touched me in a deep way that I didn't share with others at the time but kept it to myself.

The news of the Paula's death came as a great shock for everyone who knew her—her funeral was heavily attended by young people. What I learned at the time of her death was that she was a Catholic. I had visited Catholic parishes for Mass on a number of occasions, but for the most part I wasn't aware of too much about Catholicism. I had several friends who were nominally Catholic, and at the time I didn't consider that I had real need to be religious in any way.

There were two things that made a lasting impression on me at Paula's funeral. One was the Rosary, which was said at both the Vigil and at the Committal, and the other was something said at the homily. The priest spoke of Paula having visited with him on a number of occasions. His saying this made it evident that Paula had a relationship with the Church that was such that she was able to go a priest and talk about her life.

As I look back on this particular funeral, I now see it as pivotal in my coming to the faith. Somehow in it I experienced an authentic expression of faith. It reached me and touched me in a deep place in my life, and something was planted that I discovered wouldn't take too long to begin to show.

The fact is that we never know when we are sowing a seed of faith somewhere. The important thing is that our actions be genuine and authentic. There's a certain tension in it all that I experience with blogging about the faith and even more with my public role as a deacon. I know that I am called upon to live my faith in such a way that it is never just for show. Over the years I have come to identify strongly with my role as a deacon and as I glance back over the past 25 or 30 years I never cease to be amazed at the changes.

I continue to understand the authenticity of my expression of faith as growing, but it's not something that I have ever experienced alone. I learned at that funeral long ago to go to the Church, to its appointed ministers, with all the concerns of my life—with my deepest spiritual longings, with my doubts about myself, with my fears, with my failures, and with my faith.

I have become who I am because I allowed a small seed of faith to grow. I don't—and certainly I cannot—claim greatness in this world and in the successes that this world counts. I have become a man of religion, of the Church, and a humble schoolteacher who struggles daily to fulfill that role.  I know that my life is different than it would it would have been otherwise. Probably God has granted me a lot more joy than I would have had under different circumstances.

Of all the things I have placed a value on in this life, love has ranked highest. Interestingly, love is most true when it is authentic. Interesting also is the fact that our faith teaches us that God is love. We can do best to keep our actions authentic by keeping in mind the simple truth that God is indeed love—not much more is really needed.

Bishop Aymond Named Archbishop of New Orleans

This came earlier today.  With Bishop Aymond having been in Austin only since 2000, his move comes as something of a surprise.  The bishop has been a strong supporter of the diaconate in this diocese and he has brought many positive changes overall to the Diocese of Austin.  We have been blessed greatly by his service.  May God bless him in his new appointment.  Here's the story:

Bishop Gregory Aymond, who has led the Austin Diocese since 2000, has been selected by Pope Benedict XVI as the next archbishop of New Orleans, making him the first New Orleans native to hold that position, the diocese announced Friday.

"It's not often that I'm at a loss for words, but today has been one of those days," Aymond, 59, said at a news conference Friday at the Diocese of Austin's Pastoral Center — held about five hours after he wrapped up a news conference in New Orleans.

He said he had mixed emotions when he received the call a week ago about his appointment as archbishop-designate in the city where he was born and raised.

"I felt that my life had been turned upside down, but I do appreciate the pope's trust that I can give the shepherd's care to the Diocese of New Orleans," Aymond said.

Aymond will succeed Archbishop Alfred C. Hughes, who is retiring after seven years in the position. Hughes turned 75 in 2007; according to canon law, bishops submit their resignation to the pope when they turn 75, the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops said in an announcement.

At his news conference in New Orleans, Aymond said his only goal when he returns to the city is "to be among the people, to listen. ... I don't want to assume anything.

"I want to reconnect with people and with the very unique and wonderful culture" of New Orleans, Aymond said.

He said he expects to be installed in his new position Aug. 20.

In a letter to the clerics who serve an estimated 400,000 Catholics in Central Texas, Aymond wrote, "I have been privileged to serve as the Bishop of Austin for the last nine years. Central Texas has become home — I have enjoyed our ministry together and being a part of this vibrant, fast-growing diocese. I am very grateful to God and to each of you."

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Summer Reflections: St. Barnabas et al

It finally came around: the end of the school year arrived and I am now enjoying the seventh day of summer break.  What this means is that I now have more time to blog and pursue other things of interest, which I'll be sharing here at DDW. 

For today's reflection I'm using the Memorial of St. Barnabas as a jumping off point, especially the mid-afternoon reading since I'm posting rather late today.

The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness and chastity.  Since we live by the spirit let us follow the spirit's lead. (Galatians 5:22-25)

The other reading that got my attention was the Acts reading from the daily lectionary, which has to do with the sending forth of Barnabas and Saul.  How the lectionary reading speaks to me concerns the calling that Barnabas had from the Lord--along with St. Paul--he was sent.  This speaks to me in that we are all called and we are all sent forth.

It is a great truth that we are not all called to the same thing.  We are aware that we possess various gifts.  I'll be the first to admit that I can't judge myself by looking to someone else as the standard of how I should be.  I am who I am and I must ask the Lord to bless me in that and to use me to the fullest extent possible for the kingdom of God.

However, we are all called to live by the Holy Spirit and to follow the Spirit's lead, as the reading above from Galatians directs us.  In case we're not sure what following the Spirit's lead looks like, we're given a nice checklist as a part of the same reading.

What I've found helpful is when I find a spiritual/scriptural jewel, a sacramental if you prefer, I'll copy it and put it some place where I can see it and be reminded--just a verse in 11 point font taped to file cabinet next to my desk or placed behind my driver's license will do.  This past school year a holy-card-sized picture of San Martin de Porres printed on my desk jet and taped near my monitor, where just I could see it, served the same purpose (a kind co-worker recommended San Martin as a help in my line of work--perhaps in my life overall).

Undoubtedly the Holy Spirit works through the Church, so being open to the lead of the Spirit of God serves to allow the Church be a Sacrament to us.  Interestingly, it is the Church that sends Paul and Barnabas off on their mission when the Holy Spirit speaks and sets them apart for it.  Also interesting is the fact that each time we have Mass we are sent forth.

We live by the Spirit and we are led by the Spirit.  Ours is to trust God in our going forth and in the direction that God chooses to lead us. 

For me, so far, this summer has been taken up with relishing the fact that a challenging school year came to an end, but I'm also looking to the next one that will begin in just a few short weeks--really a couple months is what I get (I know, that's more than what most people get for vacation so I won't complain). 

Monday and Tuesday of next week I will be attending a conference designed for educators who work with individuals who have significant cognitive and intellectual disabilities.  Perhaps I'll be inspired or inclined to share in this area too.  From there I plan to spend time doing a bit of photography.  If any of it is worthwhile I'll post it here.  Also, I'll be writing--early morning works tend to be shorter and less tiresome to the reader, so let's see where the spirit leads.

One last thing to share today, and that's the words printed on a small piece of paper and kept in my wallet this year--I'm sharing it because in my humanity, strong on some days and weak on others, I needed it greatly, and I received it as a word--of direction or as a leading--from the Holy Spirit.  Indeed it was a word by which I chose to be led, empowered, and encouraged:

Behold, God is my salvation: I will be confident, I will not fear; for the Lord is my strength and my joy, he has become my savior. (Isaiah 12:2)

Whenever we encounter authentic humanity--in a way in which the mask of falsehood or pretension is removed--we are sure to encounter difficulty as well.  Especially this is true in situations of life that tend to amplify our common frailties and shortcomings.  Nevertheless, often the encounter of difficult situations, along with difficult people, is exactly where God intends for us to be.  Being sent, and being led, in the sense of Christian purpose, is truly all about bringing the healing and transforming power of God to places that we might not choose ourselves.

More later.

Meditation on the Memorial of St. Ephrem: The Sacraments

Living within a Christian milieu that consists of ideas tempered strongly with evangelicalism, we sometimes miss or overlook our rich heritage of the sacramental understanding of the faith. Having grown up in an evangelical household I can tell you that the word "sacrament" was not mentioned ever. It wasn't until I began exploring Catholicism that I began to consider the Sacraments as the means to grace.

It's not uncommon to find that Protestants, especially Evangelicals—with the exception of the old "mainline" denominations to a degree—reject the idea of sacraments and sacramentality.

Years ago, when I was working toward a theology Masters at Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, I had a conversation with a woman who was in the process of being ordained to the United Methodist Church. She asked me about my theological interests. I mentioned Rahner, though at the time I had only just begun to read his works. My interest in Rahner sprang from what I perceived as his similarity to the European phenomenological philosophers whom I had studied as an undergraduate.

"You know," she told me, "that's good, but he's sacramental." I replied that a sacramental approach was exactly what I wanted. In her "…but he's sacramental" I perceived an implicit rejection of the notion that God works through sacraments as a means to provide the grace needed unto salvation. I suppose this type of rejection is what runs behind ideas such as the evangelical doctrine that baptism is not necessary for salvation, but rather that it is merely a church ordinance. In an evangelical view the same might be said in regard to the Lord's Supper, marriage, etc.

My classmate's objection to Rahner's theology as "sacramental" was ironic given that Rahner's theology might have helped her to see a connection between an individualist or personal view of grace and the certainty of grace available made possible in each of the Sacraments.  Sacraments and sacramentality in general are not such that they should appear as somehow foreign to or not belonging to biblical Christianity, even from a merely biblicist point of reference.

So this morning, as I happened to look at the Office of Readings for the Memorial of St. Ephrem (born 306 A.D.), I was delighted to find rich sacramental language dating from the early days of the Church.

In your sacrament we daily embrace you and receive you into our bodies; make us worthy to experience the resurrection for which we hope. We have had your treasure hidden within us ever since we received baptismal grace; it grows ever richer at your sacramental table.

Indeed it is refreshing to find such early affirmations of the faith we have come to know and depend upon. However, over the years I have noticed that frequently the idea—the truth—of sacramental grace often does not get the attention it deserves.

I have frequently wondered whether the Sacraments are still understood as the primary means of grace, or if we, like our Evangelical neighbors, understand salvation as a purely individual concern, defined only in terms of one's personal relationship with God. A question that concerns me is whether as Catholic Christians we are beginning to embrace a way of believing which is lacking in the communal dimension of the Sacraments as the primary means to receive the grace that leads to eternal life.

I ask this only because I frequently fail to see much attention given to teaching and sharing the understanding of the idea of the Sacraments as the normal means to grace. Perhaps it's a local phenomenon that comes from being literally surrounded by non-denominational churches, bible churches, storefront churches--some less than a mile apart, some back-to-back.  Surely there is influence.  I see it several parishes.  There is undoubtedly a tendency to be less sacramentally-centered and more emphasis put on the personal or individual dimensions of faith. 

It seems as if, in terms of importance, we risk transposing the knowledge of the importance sacramental participation with individual prayer and bible study, which of course in themselves are good.  However, personal prayer for forgiveness of sins is not a substitute for Penance.  Nor is bible study or preaching a substitute for Eucharist.  While we receive grace and forgiveness in personal prayer we do not receive it as a sacrament.  The same might be said for receiving the presence of God in bible study.  Sacraments offer us the certainty of grace beyond the limits of personal doubt.

I suppose it all goes along with shorter lines at confession, which in turn makes me wonder how much understanding accompanies those who are in the long lines for communion. From time to time at Baptism meetings I have caught doubtful glances or confused looks when mentioning that Baptism is something that we do in order to receive grace unto salvation and begin the sacramental life.  Occasionally I have gotten the unintentional negative nodding gesture.  I have heard from couples in mixed faith marriages that their baby will be christened now and then baptized as an adult if he or she chooses to do so.

I would never want to deny that grace is freely available in our world through belief and trust in Jesus Christ. I would never tell a Pentecostal that he or she has not received the Holy Spirit because of not having received Confirmation. However, if we approach the Sacraments without faith, without the belief that they offer us the fullness and certainty of grace, we are no better off—even less so—than those who deny the need for the Sacraments altogether.

Today, especially in the times and world in which we live, we might pray with St. Ephrem, "Teach us to find joy in your favor! Lord we have within us your memorial, received at your spiritual table; let us possess it in its full reality when all things shall be made new."

Trinity Sunday Homily

A priest went into a second-grade classroom of the parish school and asked, "Who can tell me what the Blessed Trinity means?" A little girl lisped, "The Blethed Twinity meanth there are thwee perthonth in one God." The priest, taken aback by the lisp, said, "Would you say that again? I don't understand what you said." The little girl answered, "Y'not suppothed to underthtand; 't'th a mythtewy."

On more than one occasion I have the opportunity to discuss the Church's teaching on the Holy Trinity with someone who could not or would not accept the idea of a triune God. It seems that on each occasion, if I happened to mention anything about the "mystery" of the Trinity, the mere mention of "mystery" was taken to be a sign of weakness in my explanation, if not in the Church's teaching overall on the sacred doctrine.

However, we should realize that to acknowledge the ultimate mystery of God is anything but a weakness. Rather, it shows that we stand in relation to that which is ultimately beyond the scope of our human understanding, but also we stand in relation to that which by means of the Spirit becomes accessible to us and bears the evidence of fruit in our lives in terms of all that it means for one to live his or her humanity as fully as can be.

Our readings today for Trinity Sunday point us to the gradual revelation of the mystery of God made possible by the power of the Holy Spirit among us. God desires greatly to be known among the people chosen to be recipients of salvation. Moses questions the people, "…ask from one end of the sky to the other…Did a people ever hear the voice of God? …did any god ever venture to go and take a nation for himself?"

In effect, Moses describes God as moving from beyond being a distant, static, and entirely conceptual divinity to being experienced as a dynamic and living God who is able to enter the affairs of human life. In Moses questioning he knows already that the people cannot answer him affirmatively because the gods of human understanding—perhaps more correctly, the old gods of human creation—must remain ever in the cold and remote distance of mental objectivity, never to enter the life-world of humanity. Thus Moses makes the point that there is but one true God, and indeed God is one.

The doctrine of the Holy Trinity stands as a fulfillment and as a positive answer to Moses questioning of the people, for in Jesus Christ's humanity we hear the voice of the unseen God, and even more so we see God venture forth and enter into our world to take humanity and to sanctify it in order for it to be his own; that is, for us to be his sons and daughters—the heirs of God.

The Trinity, as expressed by the action of the Holy Spirit in the Church, fully reveals the God of Moses who is living and dynamic and who is able to transcend from the realm of being a unitary and static ideal, an absolute and singular monad, forever set apart from human experience. Our grasping the mystery of God as Trinity, and understanding God as Trinity, reveals God with us and active among us, in relationship to us, at all times.

The doctrine of the Holy Trinity serves the purpose of informing us that God is not distant or unreal, but is such that he desires to know and relate to us as well as we know and relate to ourselves and one another. Furthermore, the Trinity informs us of the divinity of Jesus Christ, that he is God, and that all we might possibly desire to know about God in the deepest mystery can be known by looking to Jesus. The Trinity also reveals the Holy Spirit as alive and with us today in the Church—even here among us—as our constant teacher and comforter, and as he who is effective and acting in the life of the Church.

A good life lesson is that the Trinity reveals how God has desired to have a relationship with humanity throughout time, throughout salvation history—from the days of Moses and the exodus of the Hebrew people from Egypt, to the time when Jesus walked among us, to the early Church following Pentecost and to the modern-day times of the Church. God continually reaches out to us in an overture of holy relationship. In this reaching out God is continually being revealed to us and among us.

In relating to us God teaches us by example to relate to one another in the same way. God teaches us to forgive one another and to forgive ourselves, for in Jesus he has forgiven each of us. God teaches us to give of ourselves for the essence of the Trinity is God's continual self-giving.

By the power of the Holy Spirit we find Jesus, sent from the Father, in the Sacraments we celebrate and then carried forth into the world of our everyday existence. Each one of us becomes a vessel of the mystery of God. Each one of us becomes the evidence and example of God to the world.

God's mystery, the mystery of the Holy Trinity, is a mystery to be lived rather than comprehended—it is a mystery sung in the songs of the psalmist and by the mystic poets. It is a mystery we see in the depth of life, in new life and in the life of the old, in the turning of the seasons and the slow and gradual changes each of us comes to know in birth and in passing.

The power and the beauty of the Trinity is that it shows us clearly that God is able to do all things and does them in such a way that not one of his laws must be broken, not one logical inconsistency must be admitted. The perfect threefold form of God continually reveals the one great overall truth that God is love and is the source of all being.

There is nothing on earth or in heaven that can prevent the unending depths and mystery of grace from being made known. Today we celebrate the mystery of godhead. We celebrate that God is with us always and continues to teach us and guide us and show us the way. We celebrate the God who, rather than being hidden from us, is revealed to us.

Homily for the World Day of Prayer for Vocations

In the gospel today Jesus proclaims, "I am the good shepherd…" Probably not many people in our times can relate well to the occupation or vocation of shepherd—that is, to one whose livelihood and daily existence consists in tending and caring for sheep. Yet in ancient times, and really into the beginning of the last century, one could more easily find the vocation of tending to a flock or herd. People in ancient times, like people in today's developing world, understood well what it meant to be a shepherd. Still with a little effort we too may see what the Lord wants to impart to us.

In the Latin Vulgate edition of the bible Jesus tells us, "Ego sum pastor bonus," – "I am the good pastor." Indeed Jesus speaks of a vocation or way of life that he receives from the Father to faithfully provide for and protect his flock, namely the Church—those who belong to the Good Shepherd by virtue of their baptism and their belief in the name of Jesus. Certainly, today's message speaks to us of the depth belonging to what it means to have a vocation.

Today the Catholic Church celebrates the World Day of Prayer for Vocations, which Pope Paul VI instituted on April 11, 1964

When I was much younger, in my 20s, and even before I became a Catholic, I dreamed of someday having a vocation in the Church. I wanted something that would go beyond what we normally mean when we say vocation. I wanted something more than merely a job or career. I knew well how a true vocation reflects the Lord's calling us into his service, and how a vocation flows from the Holy Spirit who empowers us in ministry. Indeed a true vocation reflects and reveals the ministry and presence of Christ in our world today.

Almost 20 years ago I visited about the priesthood with the director of vocations for the diocese where I lived. Mostly I remember that he told me to pray about it, and so I did. The only reservation that I had at the time had to do with a strong sense or intuition that marriage lay in my future. I left the meeting taking seriously the advice I had received. I prayed about vocations, but I also prayed about marriage, and even more I made myself open to the will of God. It was not long afterward that I met the woman to whom I am now married.

So it turned out that I didn't find a vocation in the priesthood, but marriage and ordination as a permanent deacon I found another kind of vocation. At this point in my life I feel fulfilled vocationally in my role as a husband, a father, and as a permanent deacon. I should also add my vocation as a special education teacher to the list; I say I feel fulfilled yet I certainly invite God to add anything he wills to my life and vocation. You see, regardless of the role we have in life God gives us the responsibility of being shepherds or stewards over certain things.

When I was asked to address vocations today I wanted to include marriage because we live it too as a vocation from God—indeed we should always view marriage as a true vocation given to us from God. Several years ago I had someone make an objection to me that she thought the Catholic Church ranked marriage as somehow less important when it comes to the order of vocations. However, I couldn't disagree more with that opinion. In marriage God sets us over many things and gives us great responsibilities and duties. Marriage occupies a great and unequalled place in God's plan and in the order of creation. The marriage between baptized people conveys the sacramental grace of being a pathway to salvation. The Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that scripture begins with the creation of man and woman and concludes with a vision of the wedding feast of the Lamb.

However, without diminishing the importance of the vocation of marriage I'd like to consider the gift of being single and especially invite single people to consider what they have to offer God in terms of their being single. Many long years ago I knew a Pentecostal preacher who made light of the fact that his teenage daughters couldn't wait to get married. Though they had barely passed their 14^th or 15^th birthday they talked frequently about the future joys of married life. Their dad would say, "Oh boy, if they only knew just how lucky they are right now!"

In his first letter to the Corinthians St. Paul tells us that unmarried people are free to serve the Lord entirely where a married person must consider the needs of his or her spouse. St. Paul, like the Pentecostal preacher I knew, recommends celibacy, though perhaps for different reasons. Indeed, being single for the sake of God's kingdom opens a conduit for grace to enter the world through the devoted and unhindered service of the kingdom of God. What a great gift it is to order one's life completely and totally toward the things of God!

In my vocation as a teacher I have had the opportunity over the years to work alongside several single people. I once remarked casually to a single colleague that I thought being single probably afforded a better opportunity to devote oneself to his or her career than a married person has. The remark wasn't well received—it seems that single teachers are no more interested in working late than the married ones—but it is true that being single gives time to do things that having a family often takes up. As a married deacon I must always consider that my vocation to my family comes before everything else. It can be quite difficult to balance service to the Church, family, and career all at the same time. Yet the mark of vocation is the love that goes into it—to devote oneself completely to something takes true passion. Certainly such passion pleases God immensely.

Too often in our world today the gift of being single gets lost in the cares and blurry values of the post-modern world, or maybe it never manages to find a way of being realized to begin with. However, for those who know Christ as the Good Shepherd and Cornerstone of their faith, the gift of being single offers a special opportunity; that is, for those who hear the call.

Families, married people especially, play an important role in the future of Church vocations through the examples of love and faithfulness, through courage and a spirit of sacrifice, and through generosity toward others, especially toward those with the greatest needs. However, perhaps more than anything else our participation in the life of the Christian community will make the biggest difference in terms of future vocations to the priesthood and religious life.

This fourth Sunday of Easter, Good Shepherd Sunday, a day of prayer for vocations, offers everyone an opportunity to pray that many will discover the true joy in the gift of a vocation to the priesthood or religious life and to pray that many will hear the call—a call to live out the vocation of holiness in service to God and one another. True indeed, the Easter season offers us many gifts and graces including the opportunity to reflect upon and pray for vocations.

Several years ago Pope John Paul II offered this prayer on the World Day of Prayer for Vocations:

Holy Father, look upon this humanity of ours, that is taking its first steps along the path of the Third Millennium. Its life is still deeply marked by hatred, violence and oppression, but the thirst for justice, truth and grace still finds a space in the hearts of many people, who are waiting for someone to bring salvation, enacted by you through your Son Jesus. There is the need for courageous heralds of the Gospel, for generous servants of suffering humanity. Send holy priests to Your Church, we pray, who may sanctify your people with the tools of your grace. Send numerous consecrated men and women, that they may show your holiness in the midst of the world. Send holy laborers into your vineyard, that they may labor with the fervor of charity and, moved by your Holy Spirit, may bring the salvation of Christ to the farthest ends of the Earth. Amen.

Sunday Homily: Sacrifice and Blessing

In 1965 the popular singer and songwriter Bob Dylan wrote:

Oh God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son"
….Abe says, "Where do you want this killin' done?"
God says, "Out on Highway 61."

I recall that when I was a young child, about the same time as the song was released, the family Bible had a print by the Italian baroque artist Giovanni Pittoni that depicted the sacrifice of Isaac. It was an image that I looked at many times, but I never asked much about it. I may have been the only member of the family who actually paid close attention to it. However, I remember well how it revealed the fury in Abraham's eyes and how it showed his powerful arm ready to thrust the dagger but stopped only by the hand of an angel. From that point on I felt that I had a good reason to believe in angels.

Undoubtedly, the biblical narrative of Abraham's sacrifice of his son Isaac is a story that has the power both to capture the religious imagination and inspire vivid poetic and artistic imagery; it's also a story to which, on the surface at least, most of us would have a hard time relating. As a parent I can't bring myself to step into the shoes of Abraham. Indeed there's probably not one parent here today who, outside of certain behavioral situations, can relate to the willful sacrifice of a child.

So, what exactly does the story of Abraham and Isaac really have to say to us on the second Sunday of Lent? Also, what are we to make of the juxtaposition of the gospel narrative of the Transfiguration, which, unlike the loss inherent in sacrifice, reveals a blessing resplendent in its glory?

If there is one point being made today in the readings, it has something to do with the spiritual lesson that sacrifice always leads to blessing, and that consequently the blessing is often proportional to the sacrifice. Now, this is certainly a good Lenten theme considering that Lent is the time of year when we make sacrifices. Not to worry too much if you haven't given a lot of effort to it so far because as long as it's still Lent it's not too late. Besides, you can sacrifice any time of year—Fridays throughout the year are still a good time for us to do this.

Before I talk about our particular way of sacrificing as Christians, which I don't need necessarily to say a lot about because we all know the areas we need to sacrifice in our own lives, I'd like to point out a few things about the sacrifice that Abraham was about to make before the angel intervened.

To grasp the full picture it's important to understand that Isaac was the child of promise, the long awaited son who was born when Abraham and Sarah were well-advanced in their years. The old couple finally had their baby whom God had promised to them. However, God spoke to Abraham, and the scripture says that he told him, "Take your son Isaac, your only one, whom you love… and offer him up as a holocaust." Therefore not only is the sacrifice of Isaac seen as the sacrifice of ultimate value and importance, but it serves to inform the Christian interpretation of the Good Friday sacrifice of Jesus as the beloved and only begotten Son of God who was not spared but willingly laid his life on the altar of sacrifice for the sake of all humanity—the same sacrifice that God allows to be present to us here as a reality in the sacrifice of the Mass, though the fear and dread inherent in Abraham's sacrifice is replaced with the fulfillment of God's love toward us in the Eucharistic sacrifice where he gives us his body and blood to atone for our failure.

Both the sacrifice made by Abraham and that offered freely by Christ bear the mark of a true test. Something that the parents of practically all school-aged children are aware of, along with their teachers and administrators, is that the testing season is upon us. Talk to any of them and they'll tell you that it's quite a sacrifice. It's not always easy to see what emerges from testing—it usually feels like a blessing to be done with it. However, God's test of Abraham's faith was quite different. From that test emerged not only the nation that gave us the law and prophets, but a more complete reality of salvation emerged. The sacrifice of Isaac became a prototype for future salvation.

Writing to the Romans St. Paul says, "Abraham believed God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness." Thus out of his sacrificial willingness Abraham becomes the father of all who believe. From Abraham's faith, demonstrated by his sacrifice, comes the great blessing of the Hebrew people, "I will make your descendents as countless as the stars of the sky and the sand of the seashore… in your descendents all nations of the earth will be blessed." We can add that in his descendents all who believe will be saved since from his descendents came the Christ.

If we take blessing as being truly reciprocal of sacrifice made in faith, we can see blessing revealed fully in the Transfiguration narrative in which the voice of God identifies Jesus as his beloved Son. He is the only one of the Father; the one whom the Father loves. The Transfiguration of Jesus allows us a glimpse into the finished work of God in the fullness of time. The Transfiguration transports us to a place where we can clearly see the glory of total and complete blessing. However, just as with the narrative concerning Abraham we know that the protagonist is about to be put to the test in the Good Friday sacrifice, and no angelic arm will dare reach forward to stop the hand of God who in his faithfulness toward us offers his beloved only Son as the price of salvation given once and for all.

Whatever sacrifices we choose to make, whether during Lent or any other time, we should make them in faith, and we should make them with the understanding that a sacrifice made in faith always carries a blessing. Sure, Lenten sacrifice can mean giving something up or doing without something. It can also mean taking the time to do something special for someone—especially if it's something we wouldn't ordinarily do. Praying for our friends and loved ones or doing something good for them takes less of a sacrifice than praying for or doing something good for an enemy. Sacrifice most commonly will mean accepting life's everyday difficulties with joy of knowing that whatever we do or go through with faith there will always a corresponding or reciprocal blessing, though be it one that we may not see immediately.

The true blessing of which Lent and its sacrifices serve to remind us is the blessing of salvation—a blessing that we should share with others while not counting any personal cost. Our sacrifices made in faith along the Lenten journey always lead us to the transfigured glory of the Easter blessing.

The Vatican and Darwin

As an educator I enjoyed finding the article I'm including on today's post, though I know that this is the sort of thing that's bound to bring out negative feelings--especially where Catholic-Evangelical relations are concerned.

I recently heard of an educator who had regretfully decided not to return to her job next year because the state was going to "make her teach evolution" (Texas recently changed it's ruling on evolution--at least for the time being).

Interestingly, it was only a couple weeks ago that I had a conversation with an evangelical friend who works in the public schools.  We were talking about dinosaur extinctions and I mentioned that the age of the dinosaurs, the Mesozoic era, ran from 250 million to 65 million years ago.  She told me that was interesting theory but couldn't be true since the planet is only 6 to 10 thousand years old.

Needless to say, literal interpreters of the Bible are going to have problems with the Vatican's conference on Darwin.

The Vatican is hosting a conference to mark the sesquicentennial of Darwin's book, On the Origin of the Species, and taking a fresh look at Darwin's evolution theory. The Vatican is implying that Darwin's ideas are compatible with Christianity. The Vatican's upcoming conference will discuss intelligent design as a "cultural," not scientific issue.

A century and a half after Charles Darwin published his revolutionary study of nature, On the Origin of the Species, one of his most ardent foes is taking a fresh look at his theories.

Although the Roman Catholic Church never formally condemned Darwin or his theories (thus demonstrating some significant progress from Galileo's time), there is no question that for decades, it was openly hostile to Darwin's theory because of its apparent conflict with the teachings of the church.

Next month, however, the Vatican will host a conference to mark the sesquicentennial of Darwin's book. The gathering will be held March 3-6 at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome, Italy.

Not only have church officials declared that the naturalist's views are "compatible with Christian faith," they have even argued that Darwin's ideas can be traced to great theologians like St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas. Both observed, for instance, that various forms of life on Earth have changed over time.

According to Archbishop Gianfranco Ravasi, head of the Pontifical Council for Culture, the teachings of the Church and Darwin can be reconciled: "In fact, what we mean by evolution is the world as created by God," the archbishop said recently.

The upcoming conference is the culmination of more than a half century of slowly easing tensions between the Catholic Church and the chief proponent of evolution. In 1950, Pope Pius XII declared that evolution was "a valid scientific approach." Just a decade ago, Pope John Paul II went further and said that evolution was "more than a hypothesis."

....the organizers did not invite supporters of creationism or intelligent design because it was "not feasible" to include ideas "that cannot be critically defined as being science, or philosophy or theology."

Source

Synchronous Musing

Job spoke, saying:
Is not man's life on earth a drudgery?
Are not his days those of hirelings?
He is a slave who longs for the shade,
a hireling who waits for his wages.
So I have been assigned months of misery,
and troubled nights have been allotted to me.
If in bed I say, "When shall I arise?"
then the night drags on;
I am filled with restlessness until the dawn.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle;
they come to an end without hope.
Remember that my life is like the wind;
I shall not see happiness again.   Job 7:1-4, 6-7

Many years ago I was classmates while studying philosophy in graduate school with a now prominent Catholic apologist.  One of many ideas he imparted to me in a subtle manner was that of synchronicity.  At the time I didn't necessarily see it in the Jungian context of the alignment of universal forces.  For me this was too speculative and didn't have the immediacy in world-as-experienced that I sought.  Still I sought out my classmate for his take on what I still consider to be a more than curious phenomenon.

The idea of synchronicity has come up several times in my life.  First, as an undergraduate while delving deeply into Epictetus' Discourses, I came face to face with all the reasons I thought at the time would lead me to having a stoic outlook on life--the loss of a meaningful relationship, a crippling case of sciatica, unemployment and near starvation.  It all seemed to coincide with my opening the pages of the life of a crippled suffering slave who knew Logos--though not in the Johannine sense, but as the philosophical-rational expression of Being.  I must admit that at the time I learned to identify more with the suffering of Epictetus than with the principle of universal reason as he expressed it. 

However, at the time I accounted my feelings toward my own personal pain and loss to be more a case of youthful melancholy and general discontent- with life as it was-I thought perhaps I brought whatever I was experiencing on myself. 

My reading of Epictetus and discussions at the local midnight philosophy club attracted the interest of a street preacher who called himself Brother Timothy.  Timothy made himself at home among college students and didn't seem to mind the chain smoking and drinking of an all-night college beer hall.  Timothy greeted me with at least a listening ear and after several conversations lasting until daybreak he managed to convince me that the answer to Epictetus's sufferings, and those I perceived, were to be found in Jesus Christ.  I believe I wholeheartedly accepted what Timothy offered, though he simply planted the idea and then disappeared not to be seen again after a few months.

It was years later after I had become Catholic and was doing graduate work that the idea of synchronicity came up with the soon-to-be-apologist classmate.  At the time I still had my copy of Epictetus' Discourses, but I refused to open it due to my not so far off memory of a very real pain.  Fortunately the pain stayed away, as did an new events of cosmic synchronicity.  Honestly, and on the contrary, what I experienced in the years that followed was an unfolding of redemption and joy.  Although suffering has come my way more than once, it has had no universal hold on me.

I come back to my thoughts on Epictetus because the reading this weekend from Job reminded me of them, and it reminded me of a time in my life when I had a great need.  Also, in a sense, one might say there is a kind of synchronicity in Job, but in the sense that he points us to the answer rather than coinciding with loss.

When a real struggle comes my way now I no longer consider that I should simply face it as a cosmic requirement to be stoic, rather I sense that I should look to Job as an archetype of suffering.  Not so to say that everything is pointless or meaningless, or that the adversary is getting his way in prosecuting my soul in a cosmic court, but that redemption is sure to come--that justice awaits, and that in the end good will triumph.

Nothing happens in the entire universe that escapes the glance of God.  I've been taught to believe, and I still do believe, that our actions reverberate in the world of our lives and they indeed return to us.  Good returns to the good and evil returns to the evil--even more in an eternal sense. Thus the good that Job did returned to him in that God gave us Jesus, in whom we have hope. 

We may struggle time and again with what appears to be meaningless suffering.  There are sure to be injustices, pain, suffering, loss--it happens to everyone, but for those who have faith there is an answer.  It is the answer that Job required, and that which the Father gave us on a Friday afternoon.