Calling All Questions (and Topics)

It's been a while since I've put out a call for questions -- whatever you have on your mind that you want to ask about when it comes to the Catholic Faith. So feel free to fire away and post them as a comment to this post.

Practice Resurrection

Today is Easter Monday, and we are living the resurrection.

In this Easter Season, let's do Easter. Let us make Easter in us, let us practice resurrection in our relationships. Wendell Berry writes about this, and I think it's worth copying his thoughts here:

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.L
aughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

For They Were Afraid

Today's Gospel (Mark 16:1-7) got cut short. And I'm not sure why. But verse 8 is not being read at Mass, and I think this is a big mistake. The line reads,

"Then they [the women] went out and fled from the tomb, seized with trembling and bewilderment. They said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid."

Okay, maybe not the most inspiring line in the gospels. Especially for Easter. But who are we to change the story just to make it more inspiring?

No kidding these women (note: these are WOMEN at the tomb on Easter; the MEN are all hiding and REALLY afraid) are scared out of their minds. Last week, Jesus was welcomed into Jerusalem as a hero. Four days later he was betrayed and arrested. The following day he was sentenced to crucifixion and endured the most painful, humiliating, and excruciating method of capitol punishment the world knew at the time. And they go to pay their respects to their Lord and this angel tells them that,

"He has been raised; he is not here." (v. 6)

What the heck does this even mean?

First of all, Jews of this time didn't really have an understanding of resurrection. And if they did, it was an apocalyptic vision of the end of the world. So on that point, this is pretty scary stuff these women are dealing with. Secondly, the angel just says Jesus is "not here." But he doesn't fill them in on where Jesus is. So what are they to think? Is he going to pop in when they least expect it? Is he coming back? Will they see him again?

I have two reasons why I think verse 8 should be included in our celebration of Easter today. First of all, it reminds us of the shock and awe the disciples felt on this day. Since most of us have been celebrating Easter since we can remember, the resurrection is old hat for us. We might have a cerebral reflex which just moves past the concept and doesn't allow us to really sit with what it means for Jesus to have been raised from the dead -- even with his wounds intact. Can you imagine what this must have been like for these women? No wonder they were afraid. We should be too -- even now.

And secondly, this story reassures those of us who feel ourselves overwhelmed, bewildered, or afraid. We don't all have to think (or pretend to think) that we have to be courageous, brave, and fearless when it comes to our faith. This passage allows us to sit with our anxiety and uncertainty and remember that faith isn't about having it all figured out; we call it faith rather than fact for a reason. There is mystery involved; there are just some aspects of our faith not to be fully understood. And understanding is certainly not the same as believing. All the Easter accounts talk about believing, but not necessarily understanding. So this Easter, let us keep in mind that the Resurrection isn't about having it all figured out, though it should fill us with the peace, love, and joy that not only helps us to believe, but transforms the way we live.

We live in the Resurrection, here and now! It is the source of our hope, the promise of the past and the presence of the future, who is God, invading the present.

Let us LIVE the Resurrection -- even in times of fear, doubt, and bewilderment!

No Greater Love

At the risk of sounding like an egotistical broken record, last year's post on Good Friday (March 21, 2008) is also pretty good. But this year, thinking about Christ on the cross, I find myself truly moved. This suffering, this sacrifice, this self-gift shows us not only what God is capable of, but what humans are capable of. Today we see the fullest dimension of love on the cross; indeed, there is no greater love than this (John 15:13).

So there are many things we can focus on today. We can think about Christ suffering for us, embracing the cross for us, enduring the humiliation and mockery for us. And we can also reflect on how we respond to Christ in each of these moments. Do we suffer for Christ? Do we embrace the cross given to us (Mark 8:34)? Do we risk persecution, prejudice, and even embarrassment for Him?

Or are we just content to know that we are saved, that Christ paid the price, and we don't have to worry any longer about sin and death? Do we trust in God's grace to love us, strengthen us, heal us, and forgive us -- without any real cost on our end?

Bonhoeffer talks about how obedience precedes faith. It would be easy for us to say that we don't have to follow Christ to the cross because we already believe. We have already been saved. We already "get" what Good Friday is about.

Bonhoeffer says that's taking God's grace and making it "cheap" -- easy, convenient, and banal. When we look at Christ on the cross today, we see his radical obedience to the Father. And this is where our faith begins. First we have to obey. Then faith folows. Bonhoeffer writes, "The disobedient cannot believe; only the obedient believe."

Today we see the cost of the greatest love the world will ever know. And surely we are the ones who benefit. But that doesn't mean avoiding the cost that comes with discipleship. We can't water down Good Friday into "cheap grace," the kind of grace which allows us to go through the motions or make today just another Friday. Instead, we have to embrace the "costly grace" which demands the same sacrificial, suffering, and self-giving love we see in the cross. This is because, like Jesus, we are called to obey the Father, who loves us beyond compare.

It won't be easy, or comfortable, or convenient. But when is love about any of those things, anyway?

Today we see what love is, stripped down, bare, real.

Does the way we love compare?

What does God's love demand of us?

What is the cost of real love?

Christ showed us obedience to the Father until the end.

Will you follow him?

All in One Night

In reflecting on what we celebrate this evening, I read the thoughts I posted last year on Holy Thursday (March 20, 2008). And if I say so myself, it's a pretty good post. In it, I repeated a question my spiritual director asked me: "Do you dare let Jesus wash your feet?"

Maybe a suitable question today would be to consider those people in our lives who regularly wash our feet. The people who are there for us -- no matter what -- doing the dirty work: listening to us, supporting us, renewing us, loving us.

And then, a second question: whose feet do we wash? Who are the people that you make yourself vulnerable to? How are you there for them in their time of need? Why are you willing to be on-call, inconvenienced, and uncomfortable? Is it because you love them? Why do you love them?

Of course these questions cannot lead us away from what really matters today: that Jesus offers himself to us. Humbly, generously, lovingly. We get what it means to be Christian all in one night. Discipleship means doing the dirty work with love. Discipleship means breaking bread together. Discipleship means communion around Christ. Discipleship is obedience to Christ -- letting Him wash our feet even if we, like Peter, are confused, doubtful, or embarrassed.

If you remember, the first call of Jesus was "Follow Me." Jesus didn't offer explanation and didn't require any, either. Jesus didn't demand faith in him, because faith follows from obedience.

As we enter into the holiest days of the year, into the "sacred mysteries" of our faith, our goal shouldn't be to "get it" all, to understand what Jesus is doing, and how and why he does what he does. Our goal should be to obey: to love one another as he loves us (John 15:12). We see that love tonight, we will certainly see it tomorrow, and if we look closely, we'll see that love each and every day. And that's what discipleship is about: discerning that love in our lives and sharing it as freely as we have received it.

I Meant What I Said

Palm Sunday. Lent ends, Holy Week begins, and time collapses.

Well, at least that's how I feel when we read today's Gospel (Mk 14:1-15:47). Palm Sunday is about Jesus' triumphant ride into Jerusalem but the focus is already on Holy Thursday and Good Friday. Why are we already talking about the cross when that's still five days away?

The passion and death of Christ on the cross is a sobering reminder of what lies ahead. Today, Jesus is heralded as a hero, welcomed as the Messiah, called the King. In just five days, we -- like those gathered in Jerusalem 2,000 years ago -- will turn on him, abandon him, mock him, and avoid persecution by being identified with him. Today's Gospel not only speaks volumes about Christ (as does the Second Reading, Philippians 2:6-11, on which I wrote about last Palm Sunday (03/16/08) -- so you can select the label to the right for why this earliest of all Christologies is so significant). It also speaks volumes about us. And what it has to say isn't exactly pretty.

Have you ever wondered why the cross is the central Christian symbol? Why -- and how -- did a form of the death penalty become the symbol by which we profess our faith? Isn't it wholly depressing to consider that we place this cross not only on churches and in classrooms, on t-shirts and cars, around our necks and in body art as something so "normal"? Do we really consider what it means to be saved by the cross? Do we think about the pain and torture that this symbol represents? Do we realize that this method of execution was reserved for only the worst criminals and the worthless social outcasts? Do we think of the thousands of people who died upon these wooden transepts? Or do we just think of the One? And why do we need the cross to remember the Christ?

A friend of mine responded to this question by saying, "The cross reminds me that Jesus not only loves us enough to die for us or to save me from sin and death. The cross reminds me that Jesus is telling me -- then and now -- that 'I meant what I said.'"

It would have been easy for Jesus to give in to Pontius Pilate, change his tune about the purpose of his ministry, or never head into Jerusalem in the first place. Jesus very well could have avoided the cross. But he didn't. Instead, he stood by his word of unequaled and unconditional love for us (for more about this, read John 15:11-17). He, as the Second Reading tells us, gave himself to us in self-gift, no matter the pain, torture, embarrassment, or misery he was in for. The cross tells us -- then and now -- that Jesus meant what he said. He followed through on his word to the very end.

Since we are at the end of Lent, it might be a good time for us to think about how we spent the past 40 days. Did we make more time for prayer? Did we fast in order to increase our hunger for God? Did we serve those in need or give alms to the poor? Whether we gave something up or took something on, have we grown closer to Christ over the past six weeks? Have we opened ourselves to God's grace to more fully rely on God's providence?

We talked about doing all these things just 40 days ago. How do we measure up today?
Did you mean what you said? How does God know?

Maybe that's why the cross is our central symbol? Because it reminds us that Christ meant what he said. He did what we simply cannot do, because of our finitude and sin. And of course, Christ knew that we certainly could not save ourselves; we cannot even follow through on our word. And Jesus loves us anyway. He loves us enough to die for us like a despised criminal. And that's just not something we can ever let become "normal" to us.

The next time you see a cross, think about what it means:
"I meant what I said."

Do you? How do we know?