Nine years...

   Today, November 19, 2013 is the ninth anniversary of my diaconal ordination along with three other classmates at the hands of Bishop Lucas at our Cathedral in Springfield.  Nine years.  Wow.  I look back, and it feels as if it were already a lifetime ago.  The joys and the sufferings that come with the grace of orders are unspeakably precious, complex, and humbling, to the point where it would really be an injustice to even try to explain them here.  In the face of it all, I can only give thanks, and repeat the prayer that has stuck with me all this time, "Lord I give you all that I have; I beg you to please make up the difference".

   In particular, those who have been following me know that this last year has been unbearably painful.  I am better now; indeed, in many ways I am at the absolute top of my game with respect to living into the life of praying and preaching the scriptures and contemplating the great mysteries of God in the great writings of the Church.  The sisters I am serving are a joy to be with, and an inspiration to confidence that all is right at the heart of the Church where these sisters are in their prayer, apostolic life, and struggles to live into their vocations more faithfully.  There is abundant fruit which this whole process is about to bear, I pray, which I would not have had otherwise to share, but I want to save that all for a gradual unveiling over the next few months as I finish my STL thesis.  In short, while I had originally planned to write about the apostolic constellation of Hans Urs von Balthasar (a project, which while interesting, never quite captured my imagination and zeal in the midst of the daily battles of parish ministry enough to get done), I am now working on integrating and preparing to present to the Church a thorough study of shame and sorrow--two of the modern 'anti-virtues' which modern psychology is all to ready to dismiss as irredeemably destructive to the human soul, but which the Christan Tradition understands rightly, and in the right context, as a beacon to conversion.  There's not a lot out there in literature about this subject except in a general and usually in an unhelpful light framed by contemporary categories.  Pastoral practice is not as sensitive as it probably should be with respect to how deep the pain of shame wounds so many of the faithful we look out and see from the ambo every Sunday in our churches.

   Why is it that people fear going to confession?  Why is it that it is easier to receive ashes on Ash Wednesday and eat fish sandwiches on Fridays during Lent than enter into a thoroughgoing program of penance?  Why do poor people begging for alms make us uncomfortable?  Why is it that there is possibly (according to some reports) a 10 times as many Catholics content to live in 'irregular' marriages than those who seek the assistance of our marriage tribunals?  Why is it that the priesthood scandal happened and was handled so badly?  I think at the root of these problems is one of the devil's favorite tools to oppress us: shame.  St. Thomas Aquinas has a radiant study of shame as an elementary component of sorrow and fear in the Summa.  Pope John Paul II has volumes to speak in his Theology of the Body catecheses about how shame diminishes the human person, alienating us from our very selves.  The scripture has dozens-no, hundreds-of references to shame in its pages.  The old joke is that 'Catholic guilt' is alive and well in so many of the faithful.  What can we learn from all of this?  Well, the narrative of my own story of descent into the depths of self-inflicted shame and then the collateral marginalization and betrayal heaped on afterwards is not that interesting, actually... and that's not the focus of this project.  I'm not intending to go into the business of personal 'testimony', except to preemptively affirm the grace and mercy of God in all things.  But what is important and what I have learned and am preparing to offer the Church through the lessons of the last year is a way of looking at shame and sorrow in a thoroughly Christian way that molds and tempers us to be the people Christ has called us to be--that calling out of darkness into his own wonderful light.  This is the living out of the Paschal Mystery every day of our lives as we battle sin and our own 'blind spots' of unrealized virtue (and vice).  This is where we struggle against our baser desires, both consciously and unconsciously, to die to self and live in Christ.  This is what we strive to overcome when we take an accounting of even the sins perpetrated against us.  Christians do battle with sorrow and shame every day of their lives until in the fulfillment of the kingdom in God's grace and mercy.  A healthier understanding of Christian shame may be the most important barrier to overcome in order to achieve the New Evangelization that seeks to renew the Church from within... not to mention, to help the Church be more credible and powerful in the realm of public discourse... against abortion, same sex marriage, contraception, divorce, war, slavery, poverty, indifference, even school bullying, not to mention so much more that darkens our world.  Overcoming shame is not about ignoring it, barreling through it without duly mourning our losses, or casting aside the sorrow associated with it as unhelpful and belligerent to the endless pursuit of happiness.  The 'perfection' of shame allows the moments of sorrow to be transformative in the Paschal Mystery of death to self and life in Christ.

   As easy and perhaps as logical as it might have been to simply walked away from it all and not made it to the completion of this year nine, I embrace this cross and the promises of Orders more completely and more lovingly for the glory God is trying to work through my imperfections.  Trust me, the temptation of simply disappearing has been keenly before me--and it would be an eminently logical choice to make for so many reasons.  And who knows, there are probably people out there who still wish that I'd keep walking into that darkness... that would be one of the Devil's greatest desires--to completely destroy a minister of the Church.  But today, nine years hence and all the more, I am all the more certain that this call is not about me and my desires and ambitions and comfort.  For some reason, I am still standing... but it is not through my own strength, that's for sure.  It is all about announcing the Gospel in the good times and the bad... announcing the Gospel, whose herald I am through my unworthy sharing of Orders.  I am going to continue to give it all I have, with the hope and confidence that God will make up the difference.

   Greetings and blessings to my ordination classmates and my diaconal brothers out there.  This is a celebration I share with so many of my brothers in the permanent diaconate, both in my own diocese, as well as those who have been so formative to my ministry elsewhere.  May God continue to enfold all of us in his strength and in his mercy as we continue about the work he has set before us.

All Souls, Amadeus, and Antonio Salieri, the "Patron Saint of Mediocrities Everywhere", Part 2

   Yesterday in part 1, I retold the story of the 1984 movie, Amadeus, ending with a clip of the amazing dictation of the Confutatis from Mozart's Requiem (K. 626).  While this is, at best, an apocryphal story, like many such stories, the drama is perhaps a greater illumination of the truth of the human condition than actual historical events.  In Salieri, a rival of Mozart who so desperately longed to be touched by God through music, we peer into the human heart's most desperate longing, its most urgent imperative, that of "amadeus," which means "love of God".

   The wound tormenting Salieri as he listened to the inspired music of  Mozart was that of envy.  Envy is more than simply the desire of something that belongs to another.  Envy, at its core, is sorrow over another's good... when the good of another person is perceived as an evil or privation to me.  There is merit in desiring good things--in wanting to have the talent to play piano like a concert pianist, or to be the top of one's class at high school or college, to have friends and admirers like a celebrity, or to own a nice car like the neighbors.  But such desires can easily lead us to do destructive, jealous things to others, while hallowing out in our own souls the ability to love that which is good.  Thus envy is a dangerous, seductive sin.  According to Dante, only pride is more serious and insidious an enemy.   In more subtle forms, envy is expressed through gossip (destroying another's good name), diminishing another's good fortune (discounting the good of something that belongs to another... "Having a Timex is just as good as having a Rolex... all they do is tell time, anyway"), or turning away from the good altogether, ("Johnny is so much better at baseball than I am, I think I'll play basketball instead").  These more subtle forms of envy tend to point to narcissistic wounds living as parasites within our souls... parasites fed by our own sense of inadequacy, and inflamed by a corrupted sense of justice that the goods of another should, in righteousness, instead belong to us.  The classic antidote to envy is the "cardinal virtue" of 'fraternal love'-- a love that rejoices in the good of others, and in doing so rejoices in the gifts of God.  Such virtue is most difficult to obtain, as it requires a deep surrender of self-interested desires.

    And so, after watching nearly two hours of Salieri being mercilessly wounded by envy, we come to the final reel, where he is finally toe-to-toe with his antagonist, who is dying in bed before him.  The text before them says, "Confounded are the damned, doomed to unending flames.  Lord, call me among the blessed.  I kneel down in prayer, my heart contrite as ashes; carry me unto final health."  Before laying out the first notes, Mozart pauses for a moment, looking off into space, and then focusing on Salieri  Mozart asks,

   "Do you believe in it?"

   "What?" asks Salieri.

   "A fire which never dies, burning you forever?"

   Salieri, perhaps with a great deal of self-knowledge, replies, "Oh, yes."

   "Possible?"

   Salieri refocuses the attention of Mozart and in a moment, Mozart conjures up the very flames of hell in a fitting tone-poem: trumpets and tympani accenting downbeats, violins feverishly running up and down the scales, and the martial rawness of the men's voices, proclaiming, "Confutatis!  Maledictis!  Flambis acribus addictis, Confutatis maledictis!"  Suddenly this frightful scene is punctured by the angelic song, "Voca, voca me. Voca me cum benedictis!"

   I think that Salieri knew what hell was about.  He had been there, and the curtain was parted even further that evening as Mozart dictated that section of the Dies Irae.  Hell is not about horned monsters in red jumpsuits carrying pitchforks.  It might not have even been about the specific sins and shortcomings of life in themselves.  Hell is fundamentally the eternal alienation from God.  Mozart, laying before him in final agony had yet to experience the depths of that kind of alienation, and was, perhaps, at a crisis of faith.  "Oh, yes."  Salieri believed in the flames.  Indeed, the 'voice of God' heard in the inspired music of Mozart had tormented Salieri, who was still trapped in that deep spiral of envy.  God would not 'send Salieri to hell,' but rather, Salieri's corrupted desires in envy and his wounded pride transformed the experience of God's glory into hell for him, and there he would stay. "Confounded are the damned!  Doomed to unending flames!"

   But as he writes the notes, assembles the lyrics, and scores the Confutatis, for once, and perhaps the only time in his life, the voice of God, mediated through the dying Mozart, invites Salieri to participate in something... divine.  But in this participation, Salieri still did not possess that voice in and of himself.  He was not to be the instrument of God's glory... just the secretary.  God was not about to let him, a mere "mediocrity", share in the smallest part of his glory.  God himself would 'kill' Mozart to seal Salieri's fate.  "[God] kept me alive to torture.  Thirty-two years of torture... thirty-two years of slowly watching myself become extinct.... my music growing fainter... all the time fainter."  While perhaps embracing the satisfaction of contributing to Mozart's demise in a small way, the joke would ultimately be on him: Mozart was dead, but his music would live on, assuring Salieri's defeat as a forgotten man and composer.  Over thirty-two years, his life would become a testament to the completeness of his defeat.

  It seems that in that moment, after the trauma of a failed attempt at suicide (perhaps as a final failed attempt to escape the judgement of God), and after the retelling of his story in confession, a revelation comes upon the elderly Salieri.  In his struggle and enduring woundedness, he finally discovers that he was not to be a champion of divine music, but rather the 'patron saint' of mediocrities everywhere... an example to all those who would never measure up to their greatest dreams and aspirations, of those who will never know the blessing of God's favor... perhaps even of those who fought God and lost.   As one who has suffered and lost, as one who has finally discovered himself and his humble place before God at the end of that struggle, he (and not the priest) can finally offer an authentic 'absolution' to other 'mediocrities' -- an act of mercy and simultaneous self-forgiveness which brings about deep internal reconciliation and peace.  It is an act that would not be possible without the deliverance of re-telling the story and encountering God's mercy in a transformative way. [It is not a sacramental absolution, of course, but the same kind of 'absolution' that flows from compassion for others like him who struggle for self-acceptance and healing in the midst of woundedness... it is like the peace found in and offered by former alcoholics or drug addicts who make it their mission to assist others in overcoming addictions.]  The cackle of Mozart's insane laughter is no longer a mockery of Salieri and his woundedness but is instead an affirmation of the divine joke that Salieri now 'gets'... his new destiny is to rest in the 'fraternal love' that heals envy and joins him in that same 'fraternal love' to mediocrities everywhere, starting in the sunlight of the new day at the asylum.

   Tune in tomorrow for part 3.  All Souls Day (November 2), is, in a certain way, a celebration of that yet-to-be-redeemed woundedness in us all that alienates us from God, yet promises to reveal the surest path of our redemption in his love and mercy.  The 'poor souls' of purgatory enjoy God's favor as heirs to the kingdom while still longing for the complete healing and purification found in his mercy...

All Saints, Iconoclasm, and Intercessory Prayer...

   A few days ago, a YouTube video appeared on the Internet that generated the predictable discussion on various Catholic news sites and blogs... and rightfully so.  I find it providential that it showed up right before All Saint's Day, which opens a wonderful discussion for why the Church honors the faithful who have gone before us and who have been crowned, by God's grace alone, with the crown of heavenly glory.  It also provides an opportunity to discuss why Catholics and most Christians accept the premise that, as part of the Communion of Saints, we can call upon the prayers and merits of our brothers and sisters in faith to intercede for us before the throne of God.  The video depicts a Muslim cleric who declares that idolatry is a sin, that "only Allah will be worshipped [in Syria] and that only the rule of Allah will be established... we won't accept anything by Allah, the religion of Allah, and the teaching of the Prophet." (according to the attached translation).  and proclaims Allahu Akbar as he smashes a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  The video is out there on YouTube, but the link isn't working right.  If I can find the link pointing to the right video, I'll post it up.

     A couple of comments are in line.  First of all, idolatry is a sin, and any actual worship of graven images is explicitly prohibited by divine positive law and further by the virtue of true religion.  Christians who worship statues and images, use talismans and charms for 'luck', and replace the worship of God with the worship for things of this world are surely in grave sin (given all the usual circumstances: grave matter, full knowledge, and full consent of will).  One will notice of the Islamic faith that there are no images of Allah adorning mosques, or even images of the Prophet Muhammad available for religious veneration.  This zeal is an expression of the holy desire not to be distracted by images that cannot carry to weight of God's presence and glory-- images that open the potential for idolatry.  Thus depictions of Muhammad are generally met with great offense, especially in Sunni sects of Islam.  To this day in Islamic countries, it is often considered extremely rude and a violation of personal dignity and integrity to take photographs of individuals without their permission -- the image is something sacred belonging to the person, and is not to be 'captured' or 'exploited' by hostile eyes.  A person is diminished by having his/her image captured and taken away.  Thus, when we consider the Blessed Virgin Mary whom the Muslim people also venerate (albeit to a lesser degree than Christians), there can be tremendous confusion caused by all the sacramentals of statues, images, and other devotional artwork that typically adorn a Christian Church.  Do Christians give worship to Mary... worship which is due to God alone?  Why would they light candles or offer insence before statues or images or even relics if they weren't worshipping them?  This attitude is not unlike certain Protestant iconoclasts across the ages who have frequently embraced the short-sighted polemic that "Catholics worship statues".  Only a small bit of consideration shows how wrong-headed that assertion is.

   Of course, Catholics do not worship statues... nor do baseball fans.  Case in point: in front of Busch Stadium there are bronze statues of Stan Musial and other Cardinal greats.  These graven images call to mind the teams and the summers of Cardinal greatness... the heroes whose stories and athleticism continue to inspire players and fans alike unto our own day.  What is it that we honor about these players that are immortalized in stone and metal?  We honor their work ethic and their raw talent.  We honor the example they give to kids who are trying to learn the sport, and the memories of those who came out the the ballpark to cheer him on in years gone by.  It reminds us of our own fathers who took us to the ballpark, perhaps years ago, to watch these great players, and it remains as a testament to the tradition of excellence years ago, and provides something to aspire to in years to come.  This monument honors not, primarily, the person of Stan Musial, but all of the virtues and ideals his baseball career represented.  As far as I know, there is not a religion of "Musial-ism" being formed that meets around that statue or any other image of Stan-the-Man.  It is a public sign of of an honor and respect, intended to call to mind the common memory of one who played the game exceptionally well.

   Fast forward to All Saints Day and the 'Cult of the Saints'.  The saints share in God's glory, by the gracious gift and initiative of God alone.  They are not gods, nor do they have any dignity worthy of worship.  They are, however, 'hall-of-fame' players whose virtues are worthy of honor and imitation as we struggle to find our way home to God.  Images serve to remind us of those virtues, which sometimes seem unreachable and unobtainable in our fallen state.  The are intended to inspire.  Rather than being something which distracts us from the glory of God, these images can offer us a metaphor, if you will, pointing to the grace of God working through the often rough-hewn struggle of humanity.  And so, if these figures do share in the glory of God, we know that they are no longer dead, but live in Christ.  Living in communion with Christ before the throne in heaven, they give worship and praise to the Lamb for all time.  All reverence shown to them--the saints--and their reminders (statues, images, relics, etc) is ultimately reverence and worship to Almighty God who has crowned the saints in his own manifest glory. 
   We often ask our brothers and sisters in Christ to pray for us and our needs.  Even the  most 'fundamentalist' of Christians tend to ask one another... "pray for my mother having surgery", "pray for a successful outcome in an upcoming test," "pray for me in this time of struggle".  These are all worthy prayers.  Why?  Because it is an invitation to members of the Mystical Body of Christ to express their mutual concern and care for one another by way of prayer and worship before God.  Yes, we do have a 'direct line' to God in our prayer, without the need of intermediaries, and we should use it.  But how much more powerful and protected is an intention offered through the ministry and communion of the Church... a communion which proceeds from the very union and love of Father, Son, and Spirit.  God knows our needs, even before we might pray for them, but to give voice to that prayer in the community of the Church opens the minds and the hearts of the faithful to seeing the outcome of that prayer manifest, not as an act dependent on the mistaken merit of personal piety or, worse still, an attempted "manipulation" or appeasement of the mind and will of God by saying just the right words, but instead, as an outcome divine providence, communion, and love.  Before the Father, in the Spirit, Christ prays for his Church, offering himself and his sacrifice for all of those joined to him.  Should we do no less than imitate the Master in this act of divine worship?
   The saints do not distract, but rather inspire fervent prayer within the Body of Christ, the Church.  Their example and union with us as brothers and sisters in the flesh and as blessed, justified, glorified members of the Church calls to mind the preternatural glory of the human condition, restored by a Christ who intercedes for us all before the Father.  As Christ prays for us, we pray for one another who belong to the Mystical Body of Christ.  Certainly idolatry is a sin, and perhaps for some a temptation... mindless prayer seeking worldly glory and manipulation of divine will is not worthy of the title 'worship'.  Where it does happen, I think the Muslim cleric would have it right... destroy the statues, bury the rosaries, burn the books, cast off the relics that are misused in idolatry.  Authentic prayer is found in the groanings of the human heart reaching out to the Holy Spirit in an effort to praise our creator and seek union with him.  The Church on heaven and earth is here to be a society of mutual support and encouragement as we struggle with our more base desires, that our prayer may be truly fitting in the worship of God alone.