Who Do You Say I Am?

I’ve been reading lately a book by Yves Congar, OP, a leading theologian at the Second Vatican Council fifty years ago. It’s called simply, “Jesus Christ.” (Herder and  Herder, New York, 1966)

Congar begins his book describing the religious situation in France in his day. The French were becoming a people living without God, he says. They’re like people with cancer and don’t know it. And no one is telling them about it.

They think they’re self-sufficient. They can do anything through their own powers; they don’t need anyone’s ideas but their own; they make their own decisions and choices.

They largely dismiss religion as something that doesn’t matter, or doesn’t matter much. They’re not going to church. If someone explained what they think, it would go like this: “God…so what? I prefer ordinary people to churchgoers. Religion is nothing but a superior, subtle form of egotism. What has religion to do with work, with human love, with human problems, large or small, with real life?”

I remember hearing that description of religion in France fifty years ago and saying to myself, “The poor French! Here in the United States it’s so different. Our churches are filled, our Catholic schools and parishes are thriving. We have the faith here.”

Well, fifty years later I think Congar’s description of religion in France fits us as well.

Today is Catechetical Sunday. We are beginning many of our programs in religious education and formation this month. We need to recognize the situation we face and humbly ask God to help us and bless what we do.

A recent issue of the Jesuit magazine America was devoted to this topic. One article by a religion teacher caught my eye. It’s called “Help Their Unbelief.” Let me quote from it.

“Anyone interested in Catholic education must acknowledge that today’s students emerge from a culture indifferent to the existence of God. And to the extent they do consider the matter, students typically doubt that God exists. They are skeptical about religious belief and sometimes hostile to it, and they are convinced that there is no objective truth.

“In addition to the influences of culture, religious belief rarely receives the support in the crucible of faith formation, the home. If religion receives any attention, it is often one item on a menu of activities that compete for the family’s time. A surprising percentage of students are also wounded. Every week, as a teacher of sophomores and seniors, I learn something that stuns me, something of the powerful aftershocks of divorce, alcoholism and depression. Many young people have no consistent , loving authority figure, no reliable model of virtue and no stable community. They often have no one to trust.”

(Matt Emerson,  Help Their Unbelief, America, September 10-17,2012)

That’s a sobering picture of religious formation today, isn’t it? But it states frankly the challenges we face.

Now,  let me return to Fr. Congar and his book “Jesus Christ” from fifty years ago. He offers some insights about how we got to the unbelief that’s spreading through the western world, but the remedy he offers is all important. It’s Jesus Christ, the Word of God made flesh, God with us, “the goodness and kindness of God” that has appeared to us. Jesus is “he who is, who was and is to come.”

Congar says to look at the humanity of Jesus. Listen to his words, look at how he learned about life from Mary and Joseph, follow him as he graciously welcomes people, especially those whom others don’t welcome at all, study God walking in time and place, look at him weak, fearful, brave, suffering, praying as he dies on a cross.

He did not come to a perfect world then; he does not come to one now.  He faced unbelief before.  “Who do you say I am,” he asks his disciples, who had been with him so long. “You are the Messiah,” Peter answers, but he does not understand it very well. So much about Jesus, particularly the mystery of the Cross, he does not understand at all. “You’re thinking as human beings do. You’re like Satan,”  Jesus tells him.

But he did not abandon imperfect disciples then, and he does not abandon them now. Jesus faced doubt and doubters before, people who dismissed him, people hostile to him, but he set his face on his mission and did not give it up. He remains steady on that mission. He will reveal God to us now and will also reveal to us what it means to be truly human.

We are called to his school again, the youngest of us and the oldest. It’s the most important school we can go to, where Jesus is our Teacher and Lord.

The Apostles’ Creed

I’ve been looking at the changes in the Mass coming in Advent . One change is a small one concerning the creed we use at Mass. There are two different creeds, or statements of faith, that have come down through the centuries.

The oldest creed is The Apostles’ Creed, which is a summary of faith given to men and women who were being baptized in the early church. It summarized what ordinary people learned when they became Christians and, as you may guess from its name, it summarized a faith taught by the apostles.

I’ve always liked that creed because it’s so simple. The new instructions say we can use that creed during lent and at other times in place of the Nicene Creed, and I hope we do.

Today in the Office of Readings there’s a sermon preached by a master 4th century catechist, St. Cyril of Jerusalem, preparing people  for baptism. He told them why he was teaching them the creed and  what was its connection with the scriptures and the rest of the things in church.

“Although not everyone is able to read the Scriptures, some because they have never learned to read, others because their daily activities keep them from such study, still so that their souls will not be lost through ignorance, we have gathered together the whole of the faith in a few concise articles…

“So for the present be content to listen to the simple words of the creed and to memorize them; at some suitable time you can find the proof of each article in the Scriptures. This summary of the faith was not composed at man’s whim, the most important sections were chosen from the whole Scripture to constitute and complete a comprehensive statement of the faith. Just as the mustard seed contains in a small grain many branches, so this brief statement of the faith keeps in its heart, as it were, all the religious truth to be found in Old and New Testament alike. That is why, my sisters and brothers, you must consider and preserve the traditions you are now receiving. Inscribe them in your heart.”

The creed sums up all we believe, Cyril says.  Like a small searchlight   it gives us power to see so much more, it invites us into the most profound  mysteries, and at the same time in its simplicity it helps us find our way through an often bewildering world. The creed is something we can fall back on  as well as use to go forward.

Here’s the new translation of the Apostles’ Creed:

 

I believe in God, the Father almighty,

creator of heaven and earth.

and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.

who was conceived by

the Holy Spirit,

born of the Virgin Mary,

suffered under Pontius Pilate,

was crucified, died and was buried;

he descended into hell;

on the third day he rose again

from the dead.

 

He ascended into heaven

and is seat at the right hand

of God the Father almighty;

from there he will come to judge

the living and the dead.

 

I believe in the Holy Spirit,

the holy, catholic Church,

the communion of saints,

the forgiveness of sins,

the resurrection of the body

and life everlasting. Amen

Learning from the Bible

In my last blog I mentioned an article about Catholics reading the bible. They don’t read it much, in fact, and those who do may read it as biblical fundamentalists do. The author quoted from a 1998 report from the Pontifical Biblical Commission, the pope’s advisors in biblical  matters, which said that “Fundamentalism actually invites people to a kind of intellectual suicide.”

It can also lead to political damage as well according to an article in the Op-Ed section of the New York Times today “Why the AntiChrist Matters in Politics” by Matthew Avery Sutton.

Especially in troubled times, some may see political consequences in the bible and its prophecies that really aren’t there.

“Biblical criticism, the return of Jews to the Holy Land, evolutionary science and World War I convinced them that the second coming of Jesus was imminent. Basing their predictions on biblical prophecy, they identified signs, drawn especially from the books of Daniel, Ezekiel and Revelation, that would foreshadow the arrival of the last days: the growth of strong central governments and the consolidation of independent nations into one superstate led by a seemingly benevolent leader promising world peace.

This leader would ultimately prove to be the Antichrist, who, after the so-called rapture of true saints to heaven, would lead humanity through a great tribulation culminating in the second coming and Armageddon. Conservative preachers, evangelists and media personalities of the 20th century, like Billy Sunday, Aimee Semple McPherson, Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell, shared these beliefs.”

Last week was catechetical Sunday, marking the beginning of our religious education program at St.Mary’s. We blessed our catechists who are going to be involved in the religious education of our young people.

But religious education involves more than young people. All of us are called to grow in our faith and live what we believe. Unfortunately, as adults we may see faith as something you learn as a child in school or in a religious education program and you never have to learn about it again.

The Catholic writer Frank Sheed said the problem with adult Catholics is that they don’t keep engaged in the faith they learned as children. He used the example of our eyes. We have two eyes. Let’s say one of them is the eye of faith; the other is the eye of experience.

As children, with a religious education, we may  see the world with two eyes; but as adults losing our engagement with faith we gradually come to see the world only with the eye of experience. We lose the focus that faith gives, another dimension. We won’t see right. Faith is what  helps us to see.

“You are all learners,” Jesus said to his disciples in the gospel. It’s not just children who learn, all of us learn. We are lifelong learners. Lifelong believers, engaged believers, struggling believers, even till the end.

One of the areas we have to learn about today in the Catholic Church is the Bible. It’s there every Sunday and every day of the week. It’s our new catechism and prayerbook, one of the gifts our church gives us.  We need to learn about it and pray from it as much as we can.

Browsing Through the Library

We have a big collection of books downstairs and I’m going through them choosing those we might bring to Noah’s ark, wherever that might be.  Like so many other religious communities we’re downsizing. Some books I’m putting aside, hoping to find a good home for them; some we’re selling on Amazon.com, some are on their way to the dumpster.

I’ve always like browsing through libraries. One of my best educational experiences as a young student was at Catholic University in Washington where a Redemptorist professor,  Fr. Al Rush, took us through the stacks of the university library, pointing out books and authors we might read in the future.

There’s something adventurous about  libraries and bookstores. They’re treasuries and junkyards all at once; you never know what treasure you’re going to stumble on. Yesterday, I stumbled on a book called Pride of Place: The Role of Bishops in the Development of Catechesis in the United States, by Sr. Mary Charles Bryce.

Catechesis is on my mind lately, and this book which studies the history of catechisms and catechesis in our country from Bishop John Carroll to the 1980’s was something I was looking for. I think catechesis is one of the prime needs for our church today, as Catholic schools decline and dioceses, religious orders and parishes and their resources diminish. “Pride of Place” Sister Bryce called her book, a title from an old pastoral letter of the American bishops on catechesis.

Not a bad priority for the church today. I think particularly about our preaching, our missions and retreats. How are we going to pass on the faith we have received? What are the words and ways we’re going to use?

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”  (T.S. Eliot)

And yet, we speak about the Eternal Word.

They say you can get everything you’re looking for today on the Internet and in some sense you can. So, we need to build good catechetical sites like Bread on the Waters (www. cptryon.org) and we need to keep a catechetical dimension in our various websites, or else they become simply notifications or requests for donations.

Yes, we need to work on the Internet. Yet, there’s still something to be said for a library, even one as transitional as ours downstairs. It represents an ordered collection of knowledge that was put together by people before me, who were “on the same page” as I’m on now. Someone recognized  Sister Bryce’s book was a good book and put it in our library downstairs.

Thanks.

Learning like children

The catechical programs are beginnning in many parishes these days. Circumstances for formation in faith are so different  for young people today than they were in my day.

I was raised in a Catholic neighborhood, in a Catholic school and in a Catholic family. My youth revolved around our church and our parish. The Catholic faith was in the air I breathed.

Today’s so different. We live in a pluralist society, with people who have many different ways of seeing life. Our schools are pluralistic; they try to present things fairly, without favoring one philosophy or way of looking at things over another.

To get along today you have to respect everyone’s point of view.

One weakness of pluralism, however, is that you don’t pursue your own spiritual tradition or draw from its wisdom. You can get lost in a world of many ideas and never follow one of them. You listen to the latest teachers and watch for the newest trends.

Or, worst still, you end up listening only to yourself and what you think and what you want.

Our Catholic spiritual tradition comes from Jesus Christ. We believe he is the Son of God, who came to teach us the way to live here on earth and to prepare us for a life to come. He is God with us, our Teacher, our Guide, our Companion all our days. He is the great sign of God’s love.

He is more important than Gandhi, or the Dalai Lama, or Oprah, or the latest celebrity at the top of the charts.

To know him, to love him and to be like him is the most important thing we can do in life. He’s the Rock on whom we stand; the Bread that feeds us; the Love that dies for us.

In Sunday’s gospel (Mark 9,30-37)  Jesus tells his disciples to become like little children and learn from him. Young or old, we’re all called to do that.

Changes in the Liturgy

The American Catholic Church is gearing up for changes in the liturgy. There’s a site on the bishops’ web pages outlining the changes. The opening page captures some of my questions about the new changes, to be voted on by the bishops this November, submitted to Rome afterwards, and likely introduced in Advent of 2011.

“New Words: A Deeper Meaning but the Same Mass,” reads the heading announcing the changes: “Prayers for the observances of recently canonized saints, additional prefaces for the Eucharistic Prayers, additional Votive Masses and Masses and Prayers for Various Needs and Intentions and some updated and revised rubrics (instructions) for the celebration of the Mass.”

“The English translation of the Roman Missal will also include updated translations of existing prayers, including some of the well–known responses and acclamations of the people.”

The last sentence announces the changes that will impact ordinary church-going Catholics most of all. I was thinking of recent complaints against drug companies for introducing new medicines and applications without proving they are better and more cost effective than previous ones. Will the new words lead us to a deeper meaning of the Mass? I’m not sure.

A picture on the site’s opening page shows the back rows of a congregation at church at Mass. From where the picture’s taken those back row Catholics can hardly see the altar in the distance. Is that going to be the experience of most ordinary people when the new words are introduced?

Looks like some dark clouds ahead.

Let’s Go To Mass

I have been working on some simple explanations of the Mass in video form and here’s the latest. You can get it on Vimeo; it’s based on the miracle of the loaves and the fish.

The first video in the series you can also find on Vimeo, same place.  I reworked it lately. That’s what you have to do: work and rework.

In the future I hope to do instructions on how you pray at Mass, where do the scriptural readings come from, the Mass and the Cross of Jesus, its history, and so on.

Who knows, maybe they will get done.

Is This All There Is?

In his sermons on the sacraments, which we’re reading in the Office of Readings today, St. Ambrose shows a keen appreciation of the power and weakness of signs. They signify so much, but we find them hard to accept. “Is this it?” he hears his catechumens say as they approach the waters of baptism.

Ambrose calls on stories of the Old Testament: the Israelites saved as they flee from Egypt through the waters of the Red Sea, the cloud that guides them on their way–foreshadowing the Holy Spirit, the wood that makes the bitter waters of Marah sweet–the mystery of the Cross.

“You must not trust, then, wholly to your bodily eyes. What is not seen is in reality seen more clearly; for what we see with our eyes is temporal whereas what is eternal (and invisible to the eye) is discerned by the mind and spirit.” (On the mysteries)

Remember Namaan’s doubt as the Assyrian general stood before the healing waters of the Jordan, Ambrose reminds his hearers. There’s more here than you see or think.

Still, aren’t we like those whom the saint addressed? Maybe more so, for we  likely look for proof from what our eyes see, schooled as we are in the ways of science and fact. We live in a world that tells us what we see is all there is.

Faith is a search for what we don’t see.

From Feast to Feast

St. Athanasius (+373), the great Christian bishop of Alexandria, once said “As Christians, we live from feast to feast.”

I’m sure he wasn’t just referring to good food on the table or a day-off from work. Feasts feed our souls and our minds, besides the body.  They stir our thinking,  unleash creative energies and keep our spirits alive.

I was thinking of this after celebrating the Feast of Corpus Christi a few weeks ago. Fewer people in church it seems. What’s going on? Are we losing our appreciation of the Mass?

Is it due to the retreat we are making from “a higher world,” as Charles Taylor says in “A Secular World?” Are we losing a sign of faith that has traditionally been our guide?

Whatever the reasons, we all need a deeper faith in the Eucharist, and this means a deeper appreciation of the Mass. What can we do? We’re reading from St. Cyprian’s commentary on the Lord’s Prayer this week. He simply takes the words of the prayer and reflects on them, verse by verse. That would be a good start–reflecting on the words of the Eucharistic prayers, which lead us into this mystery.

Then, there are the simple gestures and rites of the Mass. Romano Guardini, one of the leaders in the liturgical movement in our times, wrote a little book called “Sacred Signs” which offers reflections on actions like the Sign of the Cross, kneeling, sitting, listening, seeing, walking to Communion. We need to teach our bodies to pray, as well as our minds.

We need to see more deeply into the “mystery of this bread and wine,”  signs of creation brought to the table to be part of the mystery of Christ. The early commentaries on the Eucharist are so aware that bread and wine represent the entire creation. They bring us back to its beginnings and see its unfolding story. Jesus took bread and wine and blessed them; his mission was to our universe, of which we humans are a part. Bread and wine, creation itself, have a vital part in this mystery.

Communion. We call it a Holy Communion, because we receive Jesus Christ, but we receive also a whole world with him. “May all of us who share in the body and blood of Christ be brought together in unity by the Holy Spirit.” (2^nd Eucharistic Prayer) Through his Spirit, Jesus draws us into unity with the whole human family and the creation that came from him.

Vision. We need to see beyond today. The Eucharist let’s us see today, yesterday and tomorrow. It gives us a vision of hope of a loving God who creates and forgives. It offers us in sign the promise of life.

I looked at my Latin dictionary today for the meaning of the word “disciple.” It means “pupil,” “apprentice.”  We can’t stop learning, that’s what we are meant to do. Yes, we need better preaching and celebration at the Eucharist. That would help, but it often has to be left to someone else. Let’s look at what we can do.

Thy Will Be Done

We forget how rich in wisdom are the words of our prayers. Unfortunately, they become words we say unthinkingly. Listen to the commentary of St. Cyprian on one phrase of  The Lord’s Prayer, the Our Father.

“Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. This is not that God should do what he wills, but so that we may be able to do what God wills. For who could resist God in such a way as to prevent him doing what he wills? But since the devil hinders us from obeying, by thought and by deed, God’s will in all things, we pray and ask that God’s will may be done in us.

For this to happen, we need God’s good will – that is, his help and protection, since no-one is strong in and of himself but is kept safe by the grace and mercy of God.

Moreover, the Lord, showing the weakness of the humanity which he bore, said Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, and showing his disciples an example, that they should do not their own will but God’s, he went on to say nevertheless, let it not be my will, but yours.”