Month: November 2016

All around us the retail world is already celebrating Christmas. Whether we walk through the stores, listen to the radio, or turn on the television, we are being bombarded with Christmas images, and innocuous Christmas songs that range from Frosty the Snowman to chestnuts roasting on some mythical fire. Even when we try to Christianize this season, with such platitudes as “Jesus is the reason for the Season,” that is not necessarily accurate either. Why? Because it is the Season of Advent , not the Season of Christmas. We are people awaiting with great anticipation the coming of the Christ, not of the past, but the Christ of the future, the second coming of Jesus. It is this joyful anticipation of Jesus’ second coming that sustains us during the dark times in our lives. It is the knowledge that when Jesus comes again, he will bring to all humankind the peace, the joy, and the love absent in our present world. At his second coming, Jesus will bring to our Earth the fulfillment of God’s reign.

During Advent, we draw parallels between the era of past anticipation with that of our present era of anticipation. Like Israel of old, we long for Jesus to enter into the darkness of our humanity, to bring wholeness to our broken world, to heal the divisions that exist within ourselves and outside of ourselves. Pregnant with this hope, we do not just sit around waiting for the second coming to happen. As a very pregnant Mary brought the presence of Christ within her womb to her cousin, Elizabeth, so, we, too, need to bring the presence of Christ within ourselves to others. This is why when we express the mystery of our faith at Mass we sing, “We proclaim your Death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection, until you come again.” At every Eucharistic liturgy we remember that we are a people of anticipation. However, ours is not a passive and static anticipation. The Body and Blood of Jesus  which we receive at Mass, compels us to go forth and bring the presence of Christ to others until that time when he, himself, will come again in glory.

May the Season of Advent be more than just the mere decorating of our homes with lights and garland, and the making of special treats reserved for this specific time of year.  May our Advent be a time when we prepare ourselves for the Second Christmas, when Jesus returns in glory.

When my kids were young, and use to come home after school and watch cartoons. My sons were big fans of He- Man, and the Masters of the Universe. He-Man looked like a blonde, long haired professional wrestler on steroids. When his alter ego, Prince Adam, who was a bit of a wimp, sensed that the evil Skeletor was going to cause trouble he would whip out this magical sword, raise it to the heavens and shout, “I’ve got the power.” Lightning would hit the sword and the wimp would be turned into He-Man, Master of the Universe, who would then ride his battle tiger to go and fight Skeletor. Whenever I hear the name of this feast, Jesus Christ, the King of the Universe, this cartoon series comes to mind. The images we learn when we are kids stick with us for a lifetime. As children we are programmed to think of kings in human terms, people who lord power over others. Kings are not on the same level as their subjects. With the exception of Good King Wenceslaus, many kings have been ruthless, cruel men.  Jesus, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, challenges us to redefine what a king really is. 

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus never refers to himself as a king. He will refer to himself as Son of God, or Son of Man, depending on the Gospel. Many times he refers to himself as servant, an image that appears prominently in the Isaiah. In John’s account of the feeding of the 5000, Jesus runs away and hides from the crowd because they want to make him a King. In the Passion of John’s Gospel, while being interrogated by Pontius Pilate, Pilate says to Jesus, “So, you are a king,” and, Jesus replies with some disdain, “It is you who say that I am a King.” Jesus is the complete opposite of a human King. Unlike a human king, Jesus’ relationship with humanity is a power with relationship. In the Incarnation, when he was conceived within the womb of Mary, he let go of his Godly nature to become one with our human nature. He became as you and I in all things but sin. Jesus shares his power with us. At baptism, when we were anointed with sacred chrism, through, with, and in Jesus, we became priests, prophets, and kings.

St. Paul in his letter to the Philippians writes, “Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.^”

For Jesus, the meaning of the word, King, means that of being a servant, a slave. Jesus further emphasizes this at the Last Supper by getting down on his knees at the feet of his disciples and doing the work of a slave, that is, washing their feet. The One through whom all in the Universe was created, gets down on his knees and becomes a slave to the very people whom he had created. Jesus concludes this action by saying to his disciples, “Do you realize what I have done for you? You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am. If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.” If we wish to give homage to Jesus, King of the Universe, we are required to drop to our knees and wash the feet of others.

 Pope Francis exemplifies this so very well. He has said, “No,” to the old trappings of the Papacy, with all the rich, golden vestments, and has adopted a much simpler dress. He has shunned the luxury of the papal apartments and lives in the simple guest house of the Vatican. He takes his meals in the same cafeteria as all who work at the Vatican. On Holy Thursday, Pope Francis washes the feet of not just Catholic men, he washes the feet of refugees, Muslims, Hindus, men and women. So often in the past, Popes have often been referred to as the Supreme Pontiff, Sovereign of the Vatican, Successor of the Prince of Apostles. The one title that has rarely been applied to past Popes is Servant of the Servants of God. Pope Francis is the Servant of the Servants of God. Pope Francis truly has taken the words of Jesus to heart, and is living them.

 To live our baptismal vocation to be priests, prophets, and kings calls us to wash the feet of others. To be Servants of God and authentically wash the feet of others calls us to leave our comfort zones to do things we are not comfortable to do. To wash the feet of others requires us to take risks. Mary Jo Copeland, answered her vocation to serve the poor and the homeless by starting Sharing and Caring Hands. Daily, she and those who volunteer with her, are on their knees washing the bleeding, sore covered feet of the homeless and providing for their needs. Mother Teresa answered her call to be a Servant of God took a risk and left her religious order to begin her ministry to the dying poor Muslims and Hindus of Calcutta. Cathy Heying, the highly educated former director of Social Justice at St. Stephen’s Catholic Church, went back to school to learn how to be a car mechanic. Because many of the homeless live in their cars, she wanted to provide low cost car repair to the poor and homeless. She is now a licensed car mechanic and has begun a non-profit ministry called The Lift Garage that provides affordable auto repair to Minnesotans of limited means. These people are three examples of those called by God to take chances, to leave their comfort zones and enter a realm of uncertainty to become Servants of God. Washing the feet of others for them is just not a figure of speech. It is an action.

 As an ordained deacon, one of the most powerful moments in the entire liturgical Church Year is getting down on my knees on Holy Thursday and washing the feet of those I have been assigned by the Archbishop to serve. Because of all the hip replacements and now a knee replacement, strict restrictions by my surgeon prevents me from getting down on my knees any more. There are others among us today, who have similar physical restrictions. However, there are other ways to wash feet. Within the Pastoral ministry of St. Wenceslaus alone, there are many who figuratively wash the feet of others by serving at Hope House, Loaves and Fishes, and the Dorothy Day Center. The same can be said for those who visit the homebound, who volunteer as BeFrienders, or at Mala Strana, or the hospital. As I speak, we have those who are serving the poor of Le Sueur County in the Adopt a Family program. Washing the feet of others is not limited to just pastoral ministry, but is inclusive of all other ministerial areas of our parish and the community at large.

 If we truly wish to give homage to Jesus the Christ, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, on this Holy Solemnity, we must, as St. Paul wrote the Philippians, have the same attitude as Jesus, who did not lord his Divinity over others, but became a slave out of love for God and us. As all of us, throughout heaven and on earth, get down on our knees and confess to God the Father that Jesus Christ is Lord, let us do so by serving Jesus the Christ present in the person at whose feet we are washing.

When I was a senior at St. Bernard’s High School, in St. Paul, one of the required books we had to read for literature was the first part of Dante Alighieri’s great trilogy, The Divine Comedy. Mr. Kolbinger, my literature teacher, a critical thinker himself, had us read as well, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, some pretty heavy reading for this blue collar high school along Rice Street, St. Paul. Critical thinking always requires book reports and papers, and Mr. Kolbinger made sure there were plenty of those.

The Divine Comedy is divided into three books, namely, The Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise or Heaven). In the Inferno, the first part of The Divine Comedy, we encounter Dante on Holy Thursday night, lost in a dark wood. Unbeknownst to him, it was the beginning of his descent into the maelstrom of Hell. To his rescue comes the Roman poet, Virgil, who will guide Dante safely through the 9 circles of Hell.

I was thinking about this in the wee hours of Wednesday morning as the election results were being counted. I thought and still do think that on Tuesday, November 8^th, the United States began its own descent into the darkness. There have been many scapegoats suggested upon which to blame this disastrous turn in our nation’s history. In my own anger and depression following the election, I have been as guilty as the rest in this regard. Yet, I believe there is a greater evil that has laid quietly underneath the surface awaiting its chance to strike at the heart of the United States. I have known of this evil since 1985, when first I read the book, Habits of the Heart, a critical and scientific study on American individualism.

Robert Bellah, Richard Madsen, William Sullivan, Ann Swindler, and Steven Tipton conducted this study on the four types of American individualism. In their study, they noted a tremendous swing from the individualism that formed the United States, Biblical and Republican, to the individualism that has a strangle hold on our nation today, Utilitarian and Expressive.

What is the huge difference between these two groups? Biblical Individualism and Republican Individualism extoll the virtue of the good of all over the good of the individual. Biblical individualism, commonly known in Christian circles as St. Paul’s image of the Body of Christ, states that the needs of the entire body comes first, followed by the needs of the individual. Republican individualism, not to be confused with the political party, was a model created by Thomas Jefferson and best expressed in John F Kennedy’s words, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country.” In both of these individuals exist to serve the needs of the many. In serving the needs of the many, the individual will find his/her own needs being met.

Both Utilitarian and Expressive Individualism hold that the needs of the individual, outweigh the good of the many. Utilitarian Individualism is in many ways is best expressed by Libertarianism. A Utilitarian individualist does not believe in helping any other people other than him or herself. Pulling oneself up by one’s bootstraps, making one’s way, and the hell with anyone else best describes this kind of individualism. Utilitarian Individualism is about acquiring power and destroying anyone who gets in the way of that acquisition. The vice of Greed exemplifies this Individualism.  Expressive Individualism puts the needs, particularly the sensual and comfort needs of the individual primary over the needs of the many. This is best expressed in the feeding of oneself to the exclusion of those around one who may be starving. The hoarding of wealth and the acquiring of all creature comforts from housing to cars, to all the creature comforts that will satisfy all the senses is contained within this individualism. The vice of Gluttony best exemplifies this Individualism.

What the author of Habits of the Heart noted in 1985, was that the citizens of the United States were falling away from healthy individualism, namely, Biblical and Republican, and descending into the nightmare of unhealthy individualism, namely, Utilitarian and Expressive.

In The Inferno, when Dante and Virgil cross the river Achelon, they come to the entrance of Hell, over which is a sign with the words, “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate” (Abandon hope all ye who enter here!). Passing through this entrance Dante descends with Virgil through the levels of Hell, namely, Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, and Treachery. As Dante takes this terrifying journey he becomes self-aware of his own sin, of his own rupture in his relationship with God, who is love. With the exception of Limbo, the first circle of Hell, a Heaven without God, reserved for Old Testament patriarchs and prophets, and Greek and Roman philosophers and all those (including Muslims) who lived selfless lives, the sins of the following circles of Hell have one thing in common; those entrapped in eternal damnation were consumed in their own individualism without any regard for the plight of others. In other words, Dante’s Hell is filled with those who lived Utilitarian and Expressive individualism. They are damned by their own greed and gluttony. At the lowest level is treachery, where Satan and the worst of the worst are trapped in ice. Satan’s own pride has encased him in ice. He is depicted with three heads, the great bat shaped wings fan the lowest circle all the more frozen. From his six eyes flow pus, tears, and blood. In each of his three mouths are the worst of all traitors, their legs sticking out of each mouth, as Satan gnaws on their bodies. The worst of the worst is Judas Iscariot whose head is being gnawed upon for eternity.

In Dante’s Hell, the punishment that is inflicted upon the damned for eternity matches the harm they caused while they were alive. This is the stuff about which nightmares are made. From entrails of the living damned being devoured by animals, to heretics being burned alive in their own graves, Dante fills in with great detail what happens to those who do not love as God loves. No longer recognizable as human, the damned live in the horror of a sub-human state.

Long before Dante’s allegory of Hell, St. Paul, in his first letter to the Corinthians, described the humanity, after the fall of Adam and Eve, as sub-human. This sub-humankind was consumed by selfishness, self-centeredness, self-indulgence, a narcissism that had little to no regard for anyone else. St. Paul harangued the Christian Corinthian community to not fall prey to the sub-humans around them. The selfishness, self centeredness that was destroying the community around them was destroying the celebration of the Eucharist. St. Paul very pointedly told the community that the selfishness of the Corinthian community was robbing the Eucharist of its efficacy, so much so, that those perpetrators of this selfish behavior were guilty of murdering the Body of Christ to the same degree of the Romans who crucified Jesus. St. Paul went so far to say that when these perpetrators ate and drank the Body and Blood of Jesus, they ate and they drank their own damnation.

Beginning with the 1980’s, the United States started a long descent into the sub-human darkness that St. Paul saw in Corinth. The exultation of the self over the needs of the common good, the pursuit of possessions and money over relationships, the elevation of greed as a virtue, greed as an admired trait, began then and this creed of an unhealthy individualism has strangled all that has been good out of our nation. The human community in the United States has gotten so self-involved that the greater good of the totality of the human community is ignored if not condemned. It has altered the meaning of the “American Dream” from the possibility of all citizens to live lives that are fulfilled and free from the worry of hunger, poverty and homelessness, to mean acquire as much power, wealth, and goods for one self and to Hell with everyone else. The only thing that holds any importance is if it benefits the individual, screw all the rest.

The whole of this election cycle has been a choice between a healthy individualism in which the good of all is foremost, and a perverted individualism in which only the individual is primary to the exclusion of all others. Americans made their choice and elected the epitome of this perversion of individualism, perhaps electing the very image of the electorate themselves. The unimaginative, the greedy, and the gluttonous have been convinced, like the rubes of old time snake bite remedies, that the all the problems of the world are fixed in the person they have elected, and that each one of them will be far better off individually. It would be tragic if it were it not so horribly pathetic.

The circles of Hell to which Dante confined those guilty of the many sins of Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, Heresy, Violence, Fraud, and Treachery still remain and are still destructive of human society and the Church.  It should be noted, that the many condemned to Hell in Dante’s story included among them politicians of Florence, his home. However, Dante made equally sure that among the damned were a great number of clergy, including bishops, cardinals, and Popes. As St. Paul noted to the Corinthian community, the Church is as vulnerable to Utilitarian and Expressive individualism as the rest of human society.

St. Paul writes in his theology of the Body of Christ, that the needs of the totality of the Body of Christ, far outweigh the needs of the individual part of the Body of Christ. Unless, we, as Catholics, and as Americans begin to live this meaning of healthy individualism, in which the needs of the many outweigh the need of the one individual, we will pass through an entrance over which hangs a sign that say, “Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here!” Our society will be destroyed, and the allegorical vision of Dante Alighieri’s Hell will become a living reality.

This past weekend, Ruthie and I, and our family were up in Two Harbors for a family get together. Ruthie and I went to the 4:30 pm Mass at Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Two Harbors, having the wonderful pleasure of actually worshiping in the same pew together. Initially, when I read the gospel earlier in the week I remembered an Ollie and Lena joke that I won’t repeat here. As the priest was homilizing on the gospel this was the reflection that came to my mind.

When the comedian, Woody Allen, was doing stand-up, he had an observation about death that I still enjoy to this day. He remarked, “I am not afraid of death. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

As our gospel readings wind down to the end of the liturgical year, we begin to reflect on death and our life’s journey. Each liturgical year, we accompany the paschal mystery of Jesus, his life, his death and his resurrection. In doing so, however, we are not merely observers of some historical personage from a long time ago. The flow of the liturgical year and the scriptural readings that accompany that flow are meant to engage us in reflecting on our own life’s journey as we journey with that of Jesus. This merging of our life’s story with his began the moment we were baptized into his passion, death, and resurrection.

The gospel for this weekend calls us to confront our own mortal condition. We are going to die, whether we, like Woody Allen, want to be there or not. We generally avoid thinking about our own demise. Plain and simple it is just too depressing. However, the shortness of our human life is a reality we have to confront.

In Psalm 89, the psalmist writes, “To your (God) eyes a thousand years are like yesterday, come and gone, no more than a watch in the night. You sweep us away like a dream, like the grass which springs up in the morning. In the morning it springs up and flowers: by evening it withers and fades.” A little later in the psalm, it is written, “Our life is over like a sigh. Our span is seventy years, or eighty for those who are strong. And most of these are emptiness and pain. They pass swiftly and we are gone.  … Make us know the shortness of our life that we may gain wisdom of heart.”

Acknowledging that the time we have on this earth is so short, forces us to think about how we have lived our lives. How have we used the gifts we have been given? In what way has God’s Kingdom been advanced in the world by our presence? Is the world better off for us having lived, or would it have been better had we never had been born? Have we used the time we have had, wisely? Will the lives we have led been deemed worthy to attain to the coming age, where we will become like angels?

All of these questions, and many more, remind us that we are living in the end times, the “eschaton”, when Jesus will return in glory. If this makes us uncomfortable, well then, we should be uncomfortable. Perhaps, we should begin to rectify our lives, to reform our lives.  Unlike so many others who run from death in fear, let us embrace death after having had a lifetime of preparation. Let us be good stewards of our short time on earth. Let us be good stewards of the gifts that God has given us, sharing those gifts with others in need. Let us be faithful servants of the God who loved us into creation, and will love us into recreation at our deaths.