The First Martyrs of Rome

On June 30^th, the day after the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, we remember the Christians of Rome martyred with them in the persecution under the Emperor Nero in the mid 60s, a persecution that shook the early Christian church.

It began with an early morning fire that broke out on July 19, 64 in a small shop by the Circus Maximus and spread rapidly to other parts of Rome, raging nine days through the city’s narrow street and alleyways where more than a million people lived in apartment blocks of flimsy wooden construction.

Only two areas escaped the fire; one of them, Trastevere, across the Tiber River, had a large Jewish population.

Nero, at his seaside villa in Anzio when the blaze began, delayed returning to the city. Not a good move for a politician, even an emperor. The people, angered by his absence, began to believe that he had set the fire himself so he could rebuild the city on grand plans of his own.

To stop the rumors, Nero looked for someone to blame. He chose a group of renegade Jews called Christians, whose reputation was tarnished by incidents years earlier when the Emperor Claudius banished some of them from Rome after rioting occurred in the synagogues over Jesus Christ.

“Nero was the first to rage with Caesar’s sword against this sect,” the early-Christian writer Tertullian wrote. “To suppress the rumor,” the Roman historian Tacitus says, “Nero created scapegoats. He punished with every kind of cruelty the notoriously depraved group known as Christians.”

We don’t know their names. Just how long the process went on or how many were killed, the Roman historians do not say.

There were possibly about 60,000 Jewish merchants and slaves living in the Rome then; some followed Jesus, even before Peter and Paul arrived in the city. At the time of the great fire these Christians had broken with the Jewish community.

Where they lived and met was well known. The Roman authorities, following usual procedure, seized some of them and forced them by torture to give the names of others.

“First, Nero had some of the members of this sect arrested. Then, on their information, large numbers were condemned — not so much for arson, but for their hatred of the human race. Their deaths were made a farce.” (Tacitus)

The Christians were killed with exceptional cruelty in Nero’s gardens and in public places like the race course on Vatican Hill. “Mockery of every sort accompanied their deaths. Covered with the skins of beasts, they were torn by dogs and perished, or were nailed to crosses, or were doomed to the flames and burnt, to serve as a nightly illumination, when daylight had expired.” (Tacitus)

Nero went too far, even for Romans used to barbaric cruelty. “There arose in the people a sense of pity. For it was felt that they (the Christians) were being sacrificed for one man’s brutality rather than to the public interest.” (Tacitus)

How did those Roman Christians react as victims of this absurd, unjust tragedy? Did they ask where God was, why did this happen, why didn’t God stop it?  Some believers even turned them in.

Could the Gospel of Mark, which experts say was written shortly after this tragedy in Rome, be an attempt to answer these questions? Jesus, innocent and good, experienced death at the hands of wicked men, the gospel says. He suffered a brutal, absurd death. It gives no answer to the question of suffering except to say that God saved his Son from death.

The Gospel of Mark also presents Peter’s denial of Jesus in his Passion in unsparing terms, without excusing words. Is it calling the Roman church experiencing betrayals to forgive as God forgave his fallen apostle?

Finally, the Christians of Rome would surely ask whether they should stay in this city, this Babylon, a city that meted out so much evil to them. Should we go to a safer, better place?

They stayed in the city to work for its good. God strengthen us through the prayers of the martyrs of Rome.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

St. Francis Center for Renewal

I’m preaching a retreat these days at St. Francis Center for Renewal in Bethlehem, PA, for a group of sisters from various communities. Surrounded by 108 acres of woodlands and meadows, the center belongs to and is staffed by the School Sisters of St. Francis. It’s a silent retreat for 7 days.

The center has some wonderful programs for Catholics and groups from other religious traditions. Its ecumenical reach is praiseworthy. True Franciscans, the sisters like the wide world God made.

Places like this need support because they meet the growing spiritual needs of so many today. In the balancing act that is our present church, I hope we keep retreat centers like St. Francis in play. We need them.

Go to Bethlehem.

Peter and Paul

We celebrate today the two saints whom the church of Rome considers her founders, Peter and Paul. They came to the city and preached and died as martyrs there, probably during the persecution by Nero in the early 60s. Their burial places, marked by great churches, St. Peter at the Vatican and St. Paul Outside the Walls, are among the treasures of the city.

They could not be more unlike: Paul, the educated Pharisee from Tarsus, who came late to Christianity and like a runner raced from place to place in the Roman world to plant the faith. In the end, he believed God would give him “a crown of righteousness”  for his mighty efforts.

Peter, the uneducated fisherman from Galilee whom Jesus called the Rock on whom he promised to build his church. He lived with the memory of his denial of Jesus three times and of being called three times again to shepherd the flock. Warily, he journeyed to Caesarea to baptize a Roman soldier, Cornelius. Then, he went to Antioch and Rome to tell the story of the One he had seen with his own eyes.

We ask for our church Paul’s zealous faith to embrace the world before us and Peter’s deep love for Jesus Christ which he voiced at the Sea of Galilee and at his own death.

“May your church in all things

follow the teaching of those

through whom she has received

the beginning of right religion.”

Irenaeus and the Gnostics

Years ago, 50 years ago to be exact, I studied in Rome under Fr. Antonio Orbe, SJ, an expert on St. Irenaeus, the saint we honor today. Irenaeus was a 2^nd century bishop and theologian who wrote extensively against Gnosticism, an early heresy that threatened Christianity then and has an appeal in some circles today.

Ireneaus wrote against the gnostic teachers of his day who claimed their wisdom was wiser than the gospels. He compared their teaching to the faith of “the great church,” the church all over the world. The widely-traveled Christian bishop knew that church; originally he came from Asia Minor, became bishop of Lyons in Gaul, visited Rome. He knew what Christians over the Roman world believed.He also knew what the new gnostics taught, and he wrote down their teachings in great detail in a book called:  Against the Heresies. Eventually the gnostic movement waned and its writings were destroyed, until this century when a large cache of gnostic writings were discovered in the sands of Egypt.

When I studied with him, Fr. Orbe was just back from Egypt and busy deciphering a trove of gnostic writings. I don’t remember much from his class except an observation he made about St. Irenaeus. He said Irenaeus reported with great accuracy what the gnostics taught in his book–the only source of their teaching till now–  not distorting what they said or omitting their ideas.

The saint was a peace-maker, fair and respectful to friend and foe. Not a bad example for today when smear attacks, hot words, distortions and lies dominate politics, religion and personal relations.  Peace-makers don’t destroy, but heal and unite. Blessed are they!

Maintenance and Mission

We had three readings from the Book of Kings this week at Mass.  A hard book to read because, though it’s a history of the kings who succeed King David, it’s not history as we know it.  For one thing, it’s clearly biased towards the kings of Judea and antagonistic to the kings of Israel, the northern kingdom.

Besides, kings are judged by their loyalty to God, by how they listen to the prophets and how they promote Jewish worship, particularly temple worship. It’s not building programs and political success that count; it’s listening to prophets like Elijah, Elisha and Isaiah.

If they don’t do this, kings are given low marks, and God sends the Assyrians, the Babylonians and other Middle Eastern powers to subjugate his people because of their evil ways.

We hear about two good kings Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week Hezekiah and Josiah. ( 2 Kings  17-23) Yet, today’s reading offers a caution about Josiah who restores the down-trodden temple in Jerusalem but forgets something very important.  Absorbed with temple building, he seems to forget its mission.

Someone finds a copy of a book (probably parts of the Book of Deuteronomy) in the ruins of the temple and the king calls the people to come together to listen to God’s word. Before all else, the word of God points out what to do.

Today we still try to balance questions of maintenance and mission, in civil society, in the church and in our personal lives.

It’s not a matter of figuring things out by reason or going by what is or what was. The Book of Kings tells us to listen to God’s word, our living guide to the future.

The Birth of John the Baptist

If you ever go to Rome and want to take an interesting walk, I’d recommend you go to the city gate at the Porta di San Sebastiano and walk south along one of the oldest roads in the world, the Via Appia, to the catacombs and church of San Sebastiano.

Once outside the city gates, you find yourself in what the ancient Romans called the “limes,” the limits, the world beyond the walls and the protection of the city. A different world altogether.

I remember walking that road years ago; no cars and hardly any people on it,  deserted fields all around. The only sound to hear was the sound of your own breathing and your footsteps.

The deserted area beyond the city, the “limes,” meant many things to the ancient Romans. Civilized, reasonable life stopped there. Not a place to live, they believed.  Stay on the road and go to the next town. By the way, the word “limes” gets into our own phrase “speed limit;” beyond this speed you could lose your life.

A good walk on the Via Appia brings you to the catacombs, the great underground tunnels where the early Christians buried their dead. They buried them there, I think, not to hide them, but because they saw it as an appropriate place. On their journey to a new unknown world, the dead no longer belonged in the city; they were on their way to a new city. The “limes,” a mysterious place that marked the end of civilized life, also foreshadowed a new life beyond this one.

The “limes” was a place where God alone had you in his hands.

The last line of our gospel from Luke for the Feast of the Birth of  John the Baptist says:

“ The child grew and became strong in spirit,

and he was in the desert until the day

of his manifestation to Israel.”

From birth, John took a different path than his family had taken, the gospels indicate.  They argue over his name when he’s born.  He wasn’t going to take  his father Zachariah’s name, or follow him in the temple as priest or a scholar of the law. Leaving what was familiar and secure, John went into the desert– the Jewish equivalent of the “limes.” There he was solely in God’s hands, who readied him to welcome the Messiah.

Centuries before, God led the Jews from Egypt through the desert for a new birth in a new land. Leaving the world they knew they traveled without a map a world  unknown. Later, they remembered this time they often cursed then, as a blessed time.  They were in God’s hands. He alone was their strength.

Can we learn anything from this? Most of us don’t go to live in physical deserts and we stay within our limits, but we do face deserts, limits anyway. Life is never without limits, where we face things we didn’t expect, like sickness, or death, or separation, or divorce, or the loss of a job, or lost friends or places we know and love. The desert’s never far from any of us.

But there are blessings to be had there, as John the Baptist points out in the beautiful readings applied to him from Isaiah:

“Though I thought I had toiled in vain,

and for nothing, uselessly, spent my strength,

yet my reward is with the LORD,

my recompense is with my God.”

Yes, there are doubts, fears,  uncertainty. But we don’t face limits or experience the desert alone.  God promises to be there. Find his loving presence. God is there.

.

Go or Stay?

Bill Keller in an op-ed piece in New York Times on June 18^th had some hard words for the Catholic Church which, as he sees it, is governed by a dysfunctional leadership and is falling apart.  His advice:

“Much as I wish I could encourage the discontented, the Catholics of open minds and open hearts, to stay put and fight the good fight, this is a lost cause. Donohue is right. Summon your fortitude, and just go.”

Keller finds himself agreeing with Bill Donohue, a strident Catholic voice on the right, who urges leaving the church but for another reason. He’s telling Catholics not in agreement with some of the Church’s positions: Get out.

A letter in today’s Times offered a fine answer to both Keller and Donohue:

“It seems to me that both Bill Keller and Bill Donohue, the president of the Catholic League, misunderstand the catholicity of the Catholic Church. Mr. Keller’s advice to disaffected Catholics, including priests, nuns and vowed religious, to “summon your fortitude” and leave allows no room for reconciliation, reformation and peace within conflict that is central to Christian social life.

“Christian community is not a social contract like those of liberal democracies; it is a covenant that seeks to give witness to God’s unconditional love for humanity through the bonds of community. Leaving, as Mr. Keller suggests, may serve our consumerist attitudes well, but it does little to improve community; it only weakens community.

“Mr. Donohue makes a similar misreading of Catholic catholicity by seemingly insisting on ideological purity. This is a dangerous desire that has plagued Christianity since the fourth and fifth centuries. There is no such thing as an ideologically pure church, and frequently such perceptions have led to serious abuses of power.

 

“Disaffection and ideological dispute among Catholics are a pastoral issue that should be approached within particular religious communities, parishes and lay groups with their pastoral and ministerial leadership. It is a chance for reconciliation and understanding.

MARC LAVALLEE
Arlington, Mass., June 18, 2012

The writer is a Ph.D. candidate in practical theology at Boston University.”

 The writer’s on target.

Someone said to me today: “If your father develops Alzheimer’s  do you abandon him? If your family breaks down, is split by misunderstandings, do you leave it? Is the church a political party? You don’t like the platform, join another one?”

The church is a community formed by God’s unconditional love for humanity. That same love is asked of us.

I liked another letter to the Times also:

“The behavior of the Roman Catholic hierarchy disappoints me on so many fronts that it would be difficult even to begin cataloging those disappointments. How many times have I contemplated joining the Episcopal Church? More times than I can count.

“Why do I stay? Because my own parish, with its engaged pastor, deacon and staff members, vibrant liturgy and forward-leaning membership, is a comfortable home that embraces each one of us in times of joy and sorrow and provides an atmosphere for real spiritual growth.

“I suspect that many Catholics, including a lot of the nuns who are being hounded at the moment, stay for the same reason I do, and I would suggest to those who are on the verge of leaving that they should shop around first. There are welcoming and joyful Catholic communities just waiting for you to join. I know. I belong to one.

MARION EAGEN
Clarks Green, Pa., June 18, 2012

A Heart Says it All

Faith has a way of saying great things in the simplest of ways. Sometimes a few words say it all, like the simple words the publican in the gospel utters, not raising his head. “Be merciful to me, a sinner!”

Sometimes signs like bread and wine point far beyond themselves to an infinitely generous God. Today’s Feast of the Sacred Heart offers the sign of the human heart as a way of expressing divine love that cannot be measured.

How is it possible to sum up all the words and works of Jesus Christ?

He burned with love for us. The feast of the Sacred Heart is always celebrated on Friday, the day Jesus showed us the depth of his love. The day he faced rejection, he gave himself to us. The day he died, he gave us life.

John’s gospel sums up this mystery by pointing to an important but easily overlooked moment of that fearful day, when a soldier pierced the heart of Jesus on the cross and blood and water poured out. “Immediately blood and water poured out.” Look at these signs with eyes of faith, John’s gospel says. They are powerful signs of God’s love for us and for our world.

A pierced heart says it all.

Preaching “Out of Season”

CARA is a non-profit research group based in Washington, DC that studies the Catholic Church. Some statistics on its recent blog are worth reflection.

How many people in the US have been Catholic some time in their lives?  About 97 million.

Have many currently consider themselves Catholic?  Over 74 million.

How many go to church only on Easter and Christmas?  Over 50 million.

How many attend Mass at least once a month?    Over 36 million.

How many attend Mass weekly?  Over 17 million.

How many are actively engaged in their parishes? About 3 million.

There are about 17,000 Catholic parishes in the United States, which are important sources for evangelizing those who infrequently or never practice their faith. They also have a significant role in reaching out to the unchurched.

But are parishes the only sources for bringing the gospel to others? We’re experiencing a priest shortage, that shows no signs of ending. A parish-based evangelization depends on a resourceful, innovative clergy. Without resourceful, innovative priests, I don’t see how we can evangelize from the parish alone. We need to turn to other sources for evangelization.

Seems to me the media in its many forms has a role.

I think too this is a time for Christian movements beyond the parish to arise to meet the need to preach the gospel, “in season and out of season.” Let’s pray for new movements, and also let’s pray that some of the older religious communities and lay groups rise up again.

Our time is certainly “out of season.” But that’s when preaching needs to be done.

Preaching, 2

Yesterday I offered some thoughts on preaching. Today a few more reflections. Who are those we preach to today? We should know them as they are and the church in which we preach as it is.

Let’s recognize we’re preaching to people and to a church experiencing a priest shortage, a declining number of women and men religious, and a weakened hierarchy.Statistics– surely we see it ourselves– tell us that people, especially the younger generation, aren’t going to church as they once did.  Our parishes are suffering from a decline in members and Catholic schools are closing.

It’s a church roiled by sexual scandals, controversy over the place of women, issues like gay marriage, abortion and government regulations. Certainly,  Jesus Christ will be with us always and the church will survive, but what can we do to strengthen it?

I think the closest historical parallel to our American church today may be the Catholic church in American colonial times, which one historian describes as a “priestless, popeless church.”  We might add  “sisterless” to describe our church, since religious woman had a major role in its growth until now.

The colonial church survived, according to historians, because it was kept alive in the home, by prayerbooks and catechisms. (cf. The Faithful: A History of Catholics in American, by James M. O’Toole, Harvard,  2008)

Historical parallels are never absolute, but that era may suggest a preaching aimed at building a home-based faith, that is strongly catechetical and that promotes a life of regular prayer in people.

What would the prayerbook and basic catechism for today’s church be? The bible, now providentially blessed with new tools to access the treasures of its spirituality. We need a preaching that directs people to this source and helps them mine it.

It’s important we recommend the best versions of the scripture available (The New American Bible, The Jerusalem Bible) and encourage people to use aids like The Magnificat and Give Us Our Daily Bread to follow the daily lectionary.

Who preaches?

I believe we need a new generation of preachers in our churches and wherever the gospel can be proclaimed: men and women, priests, religious and laypeople. I’m not looking for new Bishop Fulton Sheens, spell–binding orators to dazzle us with their eloquence.

I think I’d prefer preachers with more modest skills. Maybe preachers like the hosts on the cooking shows on television, who whip up good food and bow out modestly after they show you how it’s done. I think  laypeople will have an increasing role in the renewal of preaching.

What about canon law? “The times, they are a-changing.”