Carl E. Olson's Blog, page 309

Quote of the Day (from Marshal McLuhan)

If you live in Eugene, Oregon, as I do, you likely know that it is almost always one the top five cities for worst grass pollen in the entire nation this time of year. Today it is #1, and I can hardly begin to express how delightful it is to be doped up on a cocktail of allergy medication while still sneezing, gasping, and otherwise feeling as though I am drowning in a roomful of loose, super-dry insulation. (Yes, I'm working hard for the sympathy vote here, but I don't want to go too overboard, so this is my only stump speech on the issue).

Anyhow, all whining aside, a reader (thanks, Charlie!) sent me a link to this interesting article in The Walrus about Marshal McLuhan, and while I don't agree with several of the points made in the piece, I did enjoy the quote I've bolded below:

McLuhan's pioneering studies of popular culture were part of a sea change in Catholic intellectualism, as the Church gave up the siege mentality of earlier decades and tried to offer a more nuanced and positive account of modern life. As well, the Church began to move away from its defence of authoritarianism to support pro-democracy political movements around the world. McLuhan underwent his own political evolution: the young man who admired Franco became the academic who engaged in a long correspondence with Pierre Trudeau. And while The Mechanical Bride condemns the comic strip Blondie for undermining the patriarchal ideal of the man as the natural head of the household, in later writings, such as Understanding Media, McLuhan deliberately eschewed traditionalist strictures, because he thought it was more important to understand the world than to condemn it. As he told an interviewer in 1967, "The mere moralistic expression of approval or disapproval, preference or detestation, is currently being used in our world as a substitute for observation and a substitute for study."

On moral matters, he remained very conservative. He was adamantly anti-abortion, for example. But part of his achievement as a mature thinker was his ability to bracket off whatever moral objections to the modern world he might have had and to concentrate on exploring new developments — to be a probe. Indeed, although he joined the Church as a refuge, his faith gave him a framework for becoming more hopeful and engaged with modernity. This paradox might be explained by the simple fact that as he deepened in his faith he acquired an irenic confidence in God's unfolding plan for humanity. In a 1971 letter to an admirer, McLuhan observed, "One of the advantages of being a Catholic is that it confers a complete intellectual freedom to examine any and all phenomena with the absolute assurance of their intelligibility."

Read the entire article.

Divine Fatherhood

From Deborah Belonick's essay, "Father, Son, and Spirit–So What's In A Name?", from The Politics of Prayer: Feminist Language and the Worship of God, edited by Helen Hull Hitchcock:

Of particular interest in our own day is Gregory's explanation of the term "Father", which is under scrutiny by feminist theologians as a harmful metaphor that resulted from a patriarchal church structure and culture.

The name "Father", said Gregory, leads us to contemplate (1) a Being who is the source and cause of all and (2) the fact that this Being has a relationship with another person–one can only be "Father" if there is a child involved. Thus, the human term "Father" leads one naturally to think of another member of the Trinity, to contemplate more than is suggested by a term such as "Creator" or "Maker". By calling God "Father", Gregory notes, one understands that there exists with God a Child from all eternity, a second Person who rules with him, is equal and eternal with him.

"Father" also connotes the initiator of a generation, the one who begets life rather than conceiving it. and bringing it to fruition in birth. This is the mode of existence, the way of origin and being, of the First Person of the Trinity. He acts in trinitarian life in a mode of existence akin to that of a father in the earthly realm. Before time, within the mystery of the Holy Trinity, God generated another Person, the Son, as human fathers generate seed.

Nowhere does Gregory, suggest that this "Father" is a male creature: "It is clear that this metaphor contains a deeper meaning than the obvious one", he notes. The deeper meaning, is found in a passage of Paul to the Ephesians:

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family (patria, fatherhood) in heaven and on earth receives its true name" (Eph 3:14-15). This passage implies that God is the one, true, divine Father, whose generative function human fathers imitate in a creaturely imperfect way. When God generates a Child, the generation is eternal and transcends time and space, unlike human fathers, who imitate this generative function but arc bound in time space, and creaturely "passions," as Gregory notes (Against Eunomius, Book 4).

All the patristic writers insist that God is not male, but God possesses a generative characteristic, for which the best analogy in the human realm is that of a human father generating seed. Hence, the word "Father" for God is the human word most adequate to describe the First Person of the Holy Trinity, who possesses this unique characteristic.

The divine Father is as different from earthly fathers as the divine is from the human. Nevertheless, it is fatherhood and not motherhood which describes his mode of life, his relationship to the Second Person of the Trinity, and even his personal characteristics. The First Person of the Trinity does not just act like a father (though he sometimes acts like a mother!). Rather, he possesses divine fatherhood in a perfect way. That God's fatherhood transcends and is the perfection of human fatherhood is part of the meaning of Jesus' statement in Matthew 23:9: "And call no man your father on earth, for you have one Father, who is in heaven."

Clement of Alexandria, another fourth-century Christian teacher, expressed this idea most aptly: "God is himself love, and because of his love, he pursued us. [In the eternal generation of the Son] the ineffable nature of God is father; in his sympathy with us he is mother" (How Will the Rich Be Saved?).

on Ignatius Insight.

The Trinity and the Nature of Love

The Trinity and the Nature of Love | Fr. Christopher Rengers | From the November 2007 issue of Homiletic & Pastoral Review

It is only through revelation that we have come to know that God is one and three. To understand the doctrine completely is beyond human ability. But to explore the Holy Trinity by appealing to reason and human experience is very worthwhile.

In fact, the Trinity, as the struggles of the first centuries of Christianity show, must be discussed in order to define who Jesus is and why Mary may be called Mother  of God. Our most common Christian gesture and the words that go with it in the Sign of the Cross turn our thoughts to the Trinity. This simple practice presents us with contrasting mysteries, bringing together suffering, mortal human nature and unchangeable, eternal divine nature. The tracing of the cross points to painful death while the words point to the source of all life, the Holy Trinity.

Prayerful contemplation, discussion and exploration have a continuing purpose. The fullness of all life, creativity and power that is in the Trinity provides ever-expanding horizons for contemplation, thought and incorporation in helpful, practical ways into human life. Two "explorers" almost a millennium apart offer viewpoints of unique interest. They are the little-known Richard of St. Victor and our present Holy Father, Benedict XVI. The latter's work An Introduction to Christianity [1] appeared originally in German in 1968, and is not magisterial teaching. It is rather the product of a profound philosopher and theologian. It delves into the ultimate nature of reality in the Trinity and the ultimate meaning of person.

The chapter "Belief in the Triune God" makes a helpful comparison between the nature of matter as now conceived in physics and the nature of substance and relation in the Trinity. The phrase quoted to explain the structure of matter as "parcels of waves" brings the comparison into focus.

The phrase is open to criticism in regard to physics, "but it remains an exciting simile for the actualitas divina, for the fact that God is absolutely 'in act' (and not 'in potency'), and for the idea that the densest being—God—can subsist only in a multitude of relations, which are not substances but simply 'waves,' and therein form a perfect unity and also the fullness of being" (p. 175).

The position of the observer has much to do with what he will discover. The question the observer asks will have an effect on the answer. The physicist doesn't approach everything as though it had to be matter. Nor does he approach everything as though it had to be motion. He looks at the total reality from two viewpoints. One is that things are made of matter, the second that everything is arranged according to motion or "waves." It is necessary to think in complementarities, whether in physics or in the theology and philosophy of the Trinity.

So in approaching the Trinity we consider it according to substance and according to relationship. The two together taken complementarily will give the complete reality that is the Holy Trinity. The relatededness cannot be considered as an accident of the substance. Putting the two together expresses the reality that is defined as one God and three divine Persons. "Not only unity is divine; plurality, too, is something primordial and has its inner ground in God himself. ...It corresponds to the creative fullness of God, who himself stands above plurality and unity, encompassing both" (pp. 178-179).

Continue reading on Ignatius Insight...

Fathers as Priests of the Domestic Church

Priests of the Domestic Church: A Father's Day Homily | Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers | Ignatius Insight

In the days before global positioning systems, Mapquest, and Google Earth, men were stereotyped as reluctant to ask for directions. You know the scene: a couple is driving somewhere and, unable to find their destination, the wife turns to her husband and says, "Honey, maybe we should stop and ask for directions." The husband, dismayed that his wife would dare challenge his sense of direction, stubbornly says, "I know where I'm going!" This would go on and on until they eventually found the place or fell so far behind schedule that they would have no choice but to stop at the nearest gas station for directions.

Thanks to modern technology, those days are gone forever! In this day and age it's virtually impossible to get lost. However, a GPS may be able to get you from Portland to Chicago; Mapquest may be able to get you to your favorite downtown restaurant; Google Earth may show you the best route from New York to Australia but no amount of technology in the world will get you from earth to heaven!

What Jesus says in the Gospel is true of many men today: we are "troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd." [1] When a man would rather spend time looking at pornography or "hanging out with the fellas" than have any meaningful relationship with his wife and children, he is lost. When a man approaches dating as a conquest, where the primary goal is to "hit it and quit it," he is lost. When a man becomes wealthy at the expense of the poor, he is lost. When a man under the influence of drugs or alcohol beats his wife, passing on a legacy of violence and abuse to his children, he is lost.

Just as Jesus called laborers into the field to reap an abundant harvest of souls, He calls husbands and fathers who are lost to use the navigational tools of prayer, forgiveness, and mercy to find our way back to our Father in heaven. Just as Jesus called men to the priesthood to serve His Bride the Church, the same Jesus calls men through baptism to be priests of the domestic church, the church of the home. A husband and father should exercise his priestly ministry through "the offering he makes of himself and his daily activities." [2] This offering should be united to Christ's offering in the Eucharist "for their work, prayers, and apostolic endeavors, their ordinary married and family life, their daily labor, their mental and physical relaxation, if carried on in the spirit--and even the hardships of life, if patiently borne--all of these become spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ." [3] The main job of the priest is to offer sacrifice, and the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass should lead fathers to intimate and personal relationship with God, uniting him so closely to Christ that the Eucharist becomes the very soul and center of his spiritual and family life.

Read the entire essay on Ignatius Insight...

Blessed John Paul II on the Inner Life and Love of the Triune God

From my essay, "The Dignity of the Human Person: Pope John Paul II's Teaching on Divinization in the Trinitarian Encyclicals":

Another reocurring element in the writings of John Paul II is the Trinitarian formula. Throughout his encyclicals there is a repeated use of the phrase "to the Father, through the Son, in the Holy Spirit." In writing about divinization, John Paul II highlights the particular actions of the three Persons, always balancing this with the unity of the Trinity. In Redemptor Hominis, regarding the Church as a "sign" and "sacrament, he writes:

This invocation addressed to the Spirit to obtain the Spirit is really a constant self-insertion into the full magnitude of the mystery of the Redemption, in which Christ, united with the Father and with each man, continually communicates to the Spirit who places within us the sentiments of the Son and directs us towards the Father (RH 18.4).

Here the perfect relationship of the Trinity is expressed in terms of action and interaction: united, communicates, places and directs. The harmony and order of the Trinity does not limit or hinder the individual Persons, nor does the work of the Persons conflict with the unity of their single nature. The Son's redemptive work unites us to himself, the Holy Spirit perfects our will and makes us more Christlike, and both guide us towards our heavenly Father. This is the path of divine growth and divine life, the joy of divinization Further on the Pope further elucidates the nuances of this path:

[T]he Father is the first source and the giver of life from the beginning. That new life, which involves the bodily glorification of the crucified Christ, became an efficacious sign of the new gift granted to the humanity, the gift of the Holy Spirit, through whom the divine life that the Father has in himself and gives to his Son is communicated to all mean who are united with Christ. (RH 20.1)

The Beatific Vision, the eternal joy of those who enter heaven, is participation in the intimacy of the Trinitarian life. While still on earth the believer possesses not only the objective knowledge of the reality of divine life, but also the sacraments, through which the life of the Trinity is given. In baptism we enter into relationship with the Father through the mystery of the Incarnation, by the life of the Son, and in the power of the Holy Spirit. In confirmation we receive additional grace and power from the Triune God. In the Eucharist we partake of the Redeemer's flesh and blood and join with him in offering ourselves up to the Father, again in the Holy Spirit.

The Trinitarian formula, as John Paul II emphasizes in Dominum et Vivificantem, is not just words, but reality:

The [Triune] formula reflects the intimate mystery of God, of the divine life, which is the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, the divine unity of the Trinity. The farewell discourse can be read as a special preparation for this Trinitarian formula, in which is expressed the life-giving power of the sacrament which brings about sharing in the Triune God, for it gives sanctifying grace as a supernatural gift to man. Through grace, man is called and made "capable" of sharing in the inscrutable life of God. (DeV 9).

Read the entire essay on Ignatius Insight.

The Trinity, "the central mystery of Christian faith and life"

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, June 19, 2011 | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Ex 34:4b-6, 8-9
• Dn 3:52, 53, 54, 55, 56
• 2 Cor 13:11-13
• Jn 3:16-18

The Trinity, the Catechism states, is "the central mystery of Christian faith and life" (CCC 234). There are, I think, a couple of mistakes that can be made when it comes to thinking about this great mystery.

The first is to treat the dogma of the Trinity as a fascinating but abstract concept, a cosmic Rubik's Cube that challenges us to fit all of the pieces into their place through elaborate, brain-twisting moves. What might begin as a sincere desire to understand better the mystery of one God in three persons can be a dry academic exercise. If we're not careful, the Trinity can become a sort of theological artifact that is interesting to examine on occasion but which doesn't affect how we think, speak, and live.

The second mistake is to simply avoid thoughtful consideration of the nature and meaning of the Trinity. The end result of this flawed perspective is similar to the first, minus all of the study:  to throw up one's hands in frustrated impatience, "Well, it doesn't make any sense. I don't see what it has to do with me and my life!" While many Christians might not consciously come to that conclusion, the way they think and live suggests that is, unfortunately, their attitude. 

In a sermon given in the early 1970s, Father Joseph Ratzinger wrote of how "the Church makes a man a Christian by pronouncing the name of the triune God." The essential point of being a Christian is to have faith in God. Yet, he wrote, this can be disappointing and incomprehensible if not understood correctly. The primary concern in Christianity, he explained, "is not the Church or man, but God. Christianity is not oriented to our own hopes, fears, and needs, but to God, to his sovereignty and power. The first proposition of the Christian faith and the fundamental orientation of Christian conversion is: 'God is.'" (The God of Jesus Christ [Ignatius Press, 2008], pp 26-27).

This truth was dramatically revealed to Moses when God spoke from the burning bush and declared, "I AM WHO I AM" (Ex 3:14). In today's Old Testament reading, from a later passage in Exodus, God further proclaims who and what He is: "a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity."

But God, of course, is not static or even stoic. In the words of the French poet, Paul Claudel, "we worship a living God who acts, who breathes, who exhales his very Self." This is beautifully expressed by Saint John the Theologian in today's Gospel reading. While Moses had been sent by God to reveal the reality and name of God, the Son was sent by the Father to reveal the mystery of God's inner life, which is perfect love and self-gift (cf., CCC 236, 257). "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son…" Why? That we might have eternal life. And what is eternal life? It is actually sharing in the supernatural life of the Blessed Trinity.

Far from being abstract or of little earthly value, the Trinity is the source of reality and the reason our earthly lives have meaning and purpose. Because God is, we have a reason to be. Because God is love, we are able to truly love. Because God is unity, we are able to be united to Him. Because God is three Persons, we are able to have communion with Him.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus once wrote, "Above all guard for me this great deposit of faith for which I live and fight, which I want to take with me as a companion, and which makes me bear all evils and despise all pleasures: I mean the profession of faith in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit." (CCC 256). May we guard our belief in the Triune God with our lives. And may we better know that the Trinity gives us life. Make no mistake about it!

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the May 18, 2008, issue of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

• The Trinity: Three Persons In One Nature | Frank Sheed | An excerpt from Theology and Sanity.
• The Trinity and the Nature of Love | Fr. Christopher Rengers
• The Creed and the Trinity | Henri de Lubac
• • The Ministry of the Bishop in Relation to the Blessed Trinity | Cardinal Francis George, O.M.I
• The Reality of God": Benedict XVI on the Trinity | Fr. James V. Schall, S.J.
• Eternal Security? A Trinitarian Apologetic for Perseverance | Freddie Stewart, Jr.

Fathers Who Follow Christ to the Cross

Editor's note: This essay originally appeared on Ignatius Insight in 2004.

Fathers Who Follow Christ to the Cross | Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers, MTS | Ignatius Insight

Nine years ago, my life changed forever.

When my wife Colleen and I were married, we made a permanent decision to love; to give ourselves to each other freely and completely. In doing this, we entered into a profound and intimate relationship; we became a one-flesh covenant in communion with Christ through the gift of sacramental grace.

The Real Power of Love

The life-giving bond that Colleen and I share is so powerful and so real that we had to give that love names: Claire, Angela, Benjamin, and Sophia. Children are the result of the central act of sacrifice and worship between a husband and wife, namely, the union of their bodies in the conjugal act, which mirrors the total gift of self by the Eucharistic Christ to his Church. Together, the married couple forms a lifelong, self-donating, and indissoluble union of love: a "communion of persons intended to bear witness on earth and to image the intimate communion of persons within the Trinity" (William E. May, Marriage: The Rock on Which the Family is Built , 65).

Marriage and, indeed, all the sacraments, tell us something about who God is. Marriage, in fact, reflects the reality that the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are of one divine nature, essence, and substance, for Scripture tell us: "God created man in His image; in the divine image He created him; male and female He created them" (Genesis 1:27), and again "'this at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.' Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh" (Genesis 2:23-24).

In creating husbands and wives, God has made two things very clear: first, that the one-flesh union between a husband and wife reflects His own divine image and likeness, and second, the fact that husbands and wives are truly equal does not mean they are the same person or have the same role in the marriage. 

We can understand the role of husbands and fathers within marriage by correctly interpreting chapter five of St. Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, particularly verses 22-24: "Wives, be subject to your husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body . . . As the church is subject to Christ, so let wives also be subject in everything to their husbands."

St. Paul is saying that wives should put themselves under the mission of their husbands. What is the mission of the husband? Verse 25: to "love your wives as Christ loved the Church." How did Christ love the Church? He gave himself up for her; he died for her. Jesus tells us, 'I came into the world not to be served but to serve' and to lay down my life for my bride. "The husband's headship in the family derives from the fact that he is the chief servant" (Christopher West, audio tape, "Sacramentality of Marriage").

Fathers Who Follow Christ to the Cross

Our role as husbands and fathers necessarily means that we must sacrifice everything: our bodies, our desires and wills, our hopes and dreams; everything we have and everything we are for the sake of our wives and children. Living our fatherhood by the example of Christ on the Cross is what separates the boys from the men: what separates the men who are merely "daddies" from the real men who are truly fathers.

Our spiritual fatherhood is truly authentic when it is "centered in Jesus Christ and through him to the Trinity" (Jordan Aumann, Spiritual Theology , 17). Jesus, in the Gospel of John, confirms this authentic spirituality when he said to His disciples "I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me" (John 14:6). To be authentically spiritual, then, means that we must enter into the life of Christ and, through God's grace and the Holy Spirit, transform our hearts, minds and wills to that of Christ's.

It is only through Christ that we can receive salvation and any spirituality that is truly genuine must be Christocentric and Trinitarian at its very core. Lumen Gentium, the Vatican II document on the Church, states it this way: "The followers of Christ . . . have been made sons of God in the baptism of faith and partakers of the divine nature, and so are truly sanctified" (Lumen Gentium, n.40).

Hence, it is only through an authentic spirituality of fatherhood, a spirituality that imitates Christ; that meditates on God's Word and responds to that Word in faith and, through the Holy Spirit, makes us share in the Triune life, that we can foster and nurture growth in holiness. The more we act under God's spirit, the more we seek to know and to do God's holy will in our lives, the more we implore the assistance and grace of the Holy Spirit, the more we grow in holiness. The Lord Jesus is the quintessential model of holiness and by following His perfect example, we grow in our love of God, our families and ourselves.







The Most Blessed Sacrament is the source of spiritual fatherhood because the Eucharist is Jesus Christ. It is not a symbol or representation of Christ, but the reality of God with whom we are in intimate relationship: a relationship which "draws the faithful and sets them aflame with Christ's insistent love" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n.10).

The Eucharist, therefore, is the fountain where we receive the strength, power, and grace to seek the Lord in faith, hope, and love. The Eucharist is the beginning of spiritual fatherhood and "is for the soul the most certain means of remaining united to Jesus" (Abbot Columba Marmion, O.S.B., Christ the Life of the Soul: Spiritual Conferences, 261). It is a deepening of the relationship which began in Baptism and realizes a level of intimacy which is inherently supernatural and mysterious, yet inexhaustive. In the reception of the Eucharist, we literally become one with God in a way that is purposeful and real. It is the "fount" from which flows the definition of who we are as men in terms of our relationship with Christ. By receiving the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist, we become more of who we already are in Christ "who maintains and increases the Divine life in us" (Marmion, 263).

Strengthened by the Eucharist, fathers should personify and exude faith, that is, they should exhibit a clear awareness that the work of the Church is, first and foremost, God's work. Therefore, we should foster on-going growth in faith and personal formation, which must include daily prayer, so that our spirituality is firmly grounded in the Trinity and the Catholic faith.

Taking the Faith to the Entire Family

Spiritual fathers must be aware of the influence of secular thought and culture, with its disordered values, ideologies, and disintegrated view of the human person, and its profound influence within and upon our children today. Many of our teenagers and young adults are struggling to hold on to the Catholic belief in absolute and objective truth. Many, because they have been poorly catechized in the faith, plummet down the slippery precipice of subjective and relativistic "truth"; of societal norms that place themselves as the center of all reality and truth.

This view is in direct contrast to the life and mission of Jesus Christ and is, therefore, the antithesis of the life and mission of the Church. Solid faith formation within the family must occur and operate within the context of faith and Church, so that, as the domestic church, we are continually molded into the image of Christ for the purpose of salvation. Pride of place must be given to a systematic approach to disseminating the teachings of the Catholic Church--firmly rooted in the foundational truths of the Trinity, the Incarnation, and grace as revealed to us in Sacred Scripture, passed down through Sacred Tradition, and protected by the Magisterium--that makes Jesus Christ come alive in the hearts of our youth (cf. Luke 24:32).

To this end, the chief servant of the family must nurture an atmosphere of inclusion in all aspects of family and parish life so that even the young persons, "who by Baptism are incorporated into Christ and integrated into the People of God, are made sharers in their particular way in the priestly, prophetic, and kingly office of Christ, and have their own part to play in the mission of the whole Christian people in the Church and in the world" (CCC, 896). The youth should participate fully in the evangelizing and sanctifying activity of the domestic church as well as the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, the renewal of the social order in the spirit of the gospel, and the pastoral ministry of the parish.

In addition, the sacramental dimension of family life must be encouraged in young people. The home must embody a spirituality that enhances and promotes devotion and active participation in the Eucharist where "grace is channeled into us and the sanctification of men in Christ and the glorification of God, to which all other activities of the Church are directed as toward their goal, are most powerfully achieved" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n.10). This must be accompanied by a deeper appreciation and understanding of the reality of sin and the need for frequent reception of the Sacrament of Penance.

All of this must be fostered in the home, the domestic Church and foundation of the parish community, where education in the fundamental truths of the faith are nurtured, fostered, and ensconced through family prayer, e.g. rosaries, Eucharistic Adoration, weekly attendance at Mass, recitation of the Liturgy of the Hours, and Scripture study. Families, led by truly spiritual fathers, are a special witness to God's loving plan in the world and the breeding ground for future generations of Catholic men and women. Hence, the domestic Church, while always remaining faithful to the Magisterium, must work together as an evangelizing society to produce "shining witnesses and models of holiness" in the world (Lumen Gentium, n.39).

The qualities of fatherhood must include practical aspects as well. We should be empathetic, careful, and attentive listeners. As chief servants of the domestic church, we must develop the skills to become excellent managers of our time and family resources that must be exercised "in accord with the knowledge, competence, and preeminence which [we] possess [and] with consideration for the common good and the dignity of persons" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, n.907).

To do this effectively, the spiritual father must see clearly with the eyes of Jesus Christ, through the lenses of faith, hope, and love. This vision, in turn, must give spiritual strength to the faithful, concreteness to the domestic church, and extend charitably to the broader community. We must live our lives "in harmony with [our] faith so that [we] can become the light of the world. We need that undeviating honesty which can attract all men to the love of truth and goodness, and finally to the Church and to Christ" (Apostolicam Actuositatem, n.13).

The spirituality of fatherhood must be rooted in Jesus Christ, the pillar of our salvation, through whom we can begin to understand the depths of the Heavenly Father's loving kindness. If we follow Christ's example and allow ourselves to be open to the Father, who is rich in mercy, we can "evoke in the soul a movement of conversion, in order to redeem it and set it on course toward reconciliation" (Pope John Paul II, Reconciliatio et Paenitentia, n.20). Our response to God's love and mercy must be that of the prodigal son: recognition of our sinfulness, humility before the Father, and the conversion of our hearts, minds, and wills.

We must lead our families under Christ's call to service, because it is only by imitating the self-sacrificing Christ that we can ever hope to be role models and heroes worthy of the whole families gratitude and honor.

IgnatiusInsight.com Articles by Deacon Burke-Sivers:

• A Study In Faithful Obedience | Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers | New Foreword to From Slave to Priest
• Black and Catholic in America | An Interview with Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers
• Behold the Man! | An interview with Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers about his new EWTN series
• Hearing and Living the Truth | Harold Burke-Sivers
• The Truth and the Lie | Harold Burke-Sivers
• The Meaning and Necessity of Spiritual Fatherhood | Harold Burke-Sivers

Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers, MTS is a deacon in the Archdiocese of Portland, Oregon, and the founder of Aurem Cordis, an apostolate dedicated "to promote the truth and beauty of the gospel by encouraging others to submit themselves freely to the life-giving love of the Trinity and to become living witnesses to that love in the world." Deacon Burke-Sivers gives talks around the country on spirituality, family life, lay vocations, and other topics, and has appeared on "Catholic Answers Live", EWTN, and many local television and radio programs. He has a BA in economics from Notre Dame and an MTS from the University of Dallas. He, his wife Colleen, and their four children live in Portland, Oregon.

Available through Ignatius Press: "Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist"

Dr. Brant Pitre's new book is published by Image and is available for purchase from Ignatius Press. I have it on my Kindle and just started to read it recently. I've raved in the past about Pitre's book, Jesus, The Tribulation, and the End of the Exile: Restoration Eschatology and the Origin of the Atonement, which is a very dense academic work (it was originally his dissertation), but well worth the effort; this new book is aimed at a popular audience, drawing on Pitre's extensive studies of Scripture and non-canonical Jewish and Christian writings of the early centuries.

Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist: Unlocking the Secrets of the Last Supper

by Brant Pitre

Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist shines fresh light on the Last Supper by looking at it through Jewish eyes. Using his in-depth knowledge of the Bible and ancient Judaism, Dr. Brant Pitre answers questions such as: What was the Passover like at the time of Jesus? What were the Jewish hopes for the Messiah? What was Jesus' purpose in instituting the Eucharist during the feast of Passover? And, most important of all, what did Jesus mean when he said, "This is my body... This is my blood"?

To answer these questions, Pitre explores ancient Jewish beliefs about the Passover of the Messiah, the miraculous Manna from heaven, and the mysterious Bread of the Presence. As he shows, these three keys-the Passover, the Manna, and the Bread of the Presence-have the power to unlock the original meaning of the Eucharistic words of Jesus. Along the way, Pitre also explains how Jesus united the Last Supper to his death on Good Friday and his Resurrection on Easter Sunday.

Inspiring and informative, Jesus and the Jewish Roots of the Eucharist is a groundbreaking work that is sure to illuminate one of the greatest mysteries of the Christian faith: the mystery of Jesus' presence in "the breaking of the bread."

"Clear, profound and practical-you do not want to miss this book."
- Scott Hahn, Author, Rome Sweet Home.

Getting fit for the priesthood!

The Lake County Journal (Illinois) recently had a feature story about Fr. Stephen Grunow, the associate director of the Word on Fire apostolate:

LIBERTYVILLE – Several years ago, the Rev. Steve Grunow gave a homily about vocations and encouraged young Catholic men to enter the priesthood.

It was a difficult time for the Catholic church, which was under fire for several sexual abuse scandals involving clergymen, Grunow said. He expected that any arguments he heard from families about supporting their sons entering the ministry would be relevant to those scandals.

Instead, the objection he heard from one prominent Catholic family in his congregation – a husband and wife with multiple children – was that they didn't consider the priesthood to be a physically healthy vocation, and they did not wish their sons to pursue such a career.

"[They told me], 'I want my children to be happy … and to be happy, they also have to be healthy,'" Grunow said.

It was a comment that stuck with Grunow, and ultimately made him decide to be an open advocate for a healthier image of clergymen – even though he himself had never been terribly out of shape.

"It was so unique, I thought it must be a message directly from God," Grunow said. "If that's something people see in the priesthood, it's something I can work on. I can do something about that."

Enter Ben Wellenbach, owner of Be Well Fitness in Libertyville. Grunow contacted Wellenbach to inquire about personal training sessions to begin his mission of presenting a healthier clergy to the lay people.

The story details how Fr. Grunow took on a demanding training schedule, and how he discovered connections between his physical and spiritual health. It also recounts how his trainer ended up becoming Catholic! Fr. Grunow offers some further thoughts over on the Word on Fire blog:

I have written several times on this blog about the correlation of the concerns of the spiritual life to practices that enhance physical fitness. ("Lifting the Weight of the Priesthood," "Fit For Mission," and "What has Sparta to do with Jerusalem?") I won't belabor the point in this post except to say that the mission of the Church can only be helped by insisting that the Church's ministers are physically fit and healthy enough to get what needs to be done accomplished. What I would like to highlight is that this article represents something that is sorely needed today- a positive story about a priest. Basically, the story featured in the Lake County Herald is not simply about how much I can deadlift, but it is a story about how the Lord placed his priest into circumstances where a spiritual seeker could finally find a home in his Church.

Read his entire post.

"Tradition", by Thomas Howard

Tradition | Chapter 14 of On Being Catholic | by Thomas Howard

To be Catholic is to be profoundly conscious of one's place in an immensely ancient tradition.

Tradition, of course, is the bond that holds together virtually every aspect of our mortal life. It is the matrix from which arises the varying shapes that we, in our varying tribes, give to our existence. The Bantus do it this way; the Finns do it this way; the Sumerians do it this way; the Jews, or the Irish, or the Latins do it this way.

What is this "it"? Well, human existence, we would all have to reply. Eating, drinking, marrying, dying, building, garbing: the mystery that lies at the root of our very identity as peoples steps into visibility in the shape that our tradition gives to all those activities. The efforts to shake off tradition discover that some shape must very quickly be given to all that the tradition has heretofore shaped: the revolutionaries in France at the end of the eighteenth century; the Bolsheviks; the hippies who collected in communal farms: they all found that we mortals cannot live together at all without some agreed-upon shape for things and that the attempt to hammer out fresh shapes has a melancholy tendency to present itself as a somewhat attenuated parody of what has been jettisoned, or worse, a travesty. Very little is gained by enthroning Reason in Notre Dame Cathedral; and who will insist that the phalanx of commissars in heavy overcoats planted shoulder-to-shoulder on the loge of Lenin's tomb answers more auspiciously to our humanity than does the procession of archimandrites and archpriests with smoke and brocade and jeweled crowns? And is it to be urged that the draggled look that obtains in hippie sectors marks an advance on your traditional farm kitchen, with Grannie with her specs in the rocker by the hearth, the cat batting the ball of yarn, and Mother, all apple-cheeked and hearty, rolling out dough, befloured to the elbows?

Overstatement? Stereotype? Yes. The only point to be insisted upon in this connection would be that indeed we mortals do, in fact, over long periods of time, give a shape to things that somehow reveals aspects of our humanity itself and that it is very difficult to recreate such a shape in haste.
The same phenomenon may be seen in the religious aspect of life. Nay, we would all object: that is too flat a way of saying it. It is in the religious aspect of life that we may descry most sharply this property of tradition to disclose the most profound levels of our identity. What is it about the Northwest Indian tribes that takes shape in totem poles? Or about the Angles that takes shape in Anglican chant? Or the Spanish that will surge through the streets in the enormous processions of the Semana Santa?

This, of course, is a problematical line of thought. Pursued much further it would find itself obliged to insist that all religious traditions are somehow tied to ethnicity, but that is a line that will not hold through to the end. Does Lutheranism have the shape it has because it is German or because it is Lutheran? Is Hinduism Indian or Hindu? How necessarily Japanese is Shinto? What we may all observe without controversy, however, is that tradition gives a profoundly significant shape to human life and that religious tradition touches the depths of our identity as keenly as does any aspect of mortal existence.

To be Catholic is to be wholly at home in this awareness. This would seem to be laboring the obvious, except that there are forms of Christian profession that not only set virtually no store by tradition: they explicitly disallow any real authority to tradition. They speak of the ancient faith as though the Bible had swum into view just this morning and as though one's approach to it is simply to open it, read, and start running.

Once more, we find ourselves with a problematical line of thought before us. May not the Bible be thus used? Is it not perspicuous? Must we interpose prelates and pedants between the humble peasant and the Word of God?
And again, it is difficult to avoid overstatement and stereotype. Things do not always separate out into such tidy categories as humble peasants and pedants. Indeed the Bible is the Word of God, say all the churches, Roman and Orthodox as well as Calvinist and Anabaptist. And indeed it is to be sought out and ingested day by day. But when we have said that, we find ourselves with the next question, namely, who may teach this Bible? Marcion? Apollinarius? Joseph Smith? Socinius?

All of these profoundly serious readers of the Bible are looked upon by the principal churches in Christendom as in some sense heretical. You may not, if you wish to think of yourself as a Christian, as that word has been understood from the beginning, espouse their teachings.

Who says so? What court of appeal so rules?

The tradition of the Church, say the Catholics. And so say most Protestants, in one form or another. Socinius' reading of various texts was faulty and is not to be allowed: the correct understanding of the New Testament is that Jesus of Nazareth was the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity incarnate of the Virgin Mary. Socinius has it wrong. So says tradition.

But then what of the questions that bedevil "traditional" Christian groups? Did Jesus die for the elect or for the whole world? John Calvin will tell you one thing, John Wesley, another. Is the bread at the Lord's table only bread, or is it the Body of Christ? Zwingli will tell you one thing; Luther, another. Is the Church to be governed by elders and general assemblies or locally, by democratic vote of the congregation itself? The Presbyterians will tell you one thing, and the Congregationalists another. Will there be a "secret rapture" of believers exempting them from the great tribulation to come upon the world, or must the Church brace herself for just such tribulation? A hundred voices clamor here.

To be Catholic is to look to the teaching of the Church herself rather than to one's private efforts to piece Scripture together on such questions. This teaching, understood by Catholics, in the light of St. Paul's words in 1 Timothy 3:15, to be authoritative, is called the Magisterium of the Church. In this Magisterium a Catholic finds the authority granted by the Lord to the apostles guaranteed for as long as history lasts. Things did not suddenly fray out into a hermeneutical donnybrook when the last apostle died. The unction to teach continues, from the apostles to their successors the bishops. If it comes to a choice between Marcion and your bishop, then you as a Catholic must listen to your bishop. Both men will cite Scripture for you, just as both Zwingli and Luther will do in connection with the bread. Where does this leave you?

A Catholic finds himself in a tradition of teaching that stretches back to the beginning.

But tradition is such a human thing, it may be objected. How can you tell when it has become destructive? Surely the Lord himself attacked with great vigor the traditions of the scribes and the Pharisees that had made a farce of God's revelation? And what about sinful bishops and popes, to be found right at the center of the tradition? How can you trust what they say?

A Catholic is aware of just such unhappy points. But he is also aware that just such anomalies have beleaguered God's purposes from the beginning: Noah, God's own servant and yet falling into debauchery; Jacob, very far from admirable quite often; David, the very psalmist himself, unfaithful; Israel herself, disobedient, idolatrous, perfidious, corrupt—and yet God's own Spouse.

It is often put to Catholics that it is mad for them to insist that this great juggernaut called the Roman Catholic Church, rumbling down through history heavy with paraphernalia, fat prelates, bric-a-brac, subtle diplomacy, and crusading armies—that this is to be understood as the Body of Christ. No one, surely, can adhere to a notion as manifestly absurd as that?

Well, yes, actually, says your Catholic. I do. Oh, the strictures are all too true, alas. It is a shabby record, full of sin. worldliness, ignorance, pride, avarice, venality, and crueltv. But let us recall God's people Israel: How can it be that the Most High is pleased to have His Name associated with that lot capering around the golden calf? But he does. O populus meus: my people. To be Catholic is to be keenly aware of just such an anomaly. The people of God is still the people of God, even when they are being licentious; and no one has the warrant to hive off and start Israel anew, ten miles away, in the interest of purity.

It is in such a light that a Catholic sees the history of the Church. The Christians have not done much better than the Jews. If it is dreadful Borgia cardinals and popes you are thinking of, then what you have there (replies your Catholic, not proudly) is wolves in sheep's clothing, just as the New Testament anticipates. If it is ignorance, sin, worldliness, and terrible catechesis you are thinking of, then you have, alas, the Church as she emerged from the labor of the holy apostle St. Paul himself (see his letters to the Corinthian church). Multiply the shabby record those Christians achieved in a few years by 2,000, add a billion people, and you have the Roman Catholic Church.

And yet—and yet: outsiders, and her enemies, may well list such defects. But to be Catholic is to know that the spectacle of sheer holiness radiates in and from this ancient Church, in her Magisterium, in her liturgy, in her sacraments, and also in the lives of the faithful, that immense throng moving along through the history of this world, beginning with the apostles and followed by Polycarp, Felicity and Perpetua, Augustine, Benedict, Martin, Colurnban, Thomas, Dominic, Francis, Ignatius, Teresa, and the whole host of fathers, confessors, widows, virgins, doctors, and all the nameless faithful who remain in obedient, visible, and organic unity with the ancient see in Rome whither Peter and Paul brought the gospel.

A Catholic feels about the Church a sentiment not altogether dissimilar to the sentiment a Jew cherishes touching Jerusalem. There may be rats and offal in the streets, and jerry-built blocks of flats, and waste and corruption in the government: but if I forget thee, 0 Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. I shall wish thee prosperity. For a Jew there is no question of hiving off and building another Jerusalem somewhere, in order to get it right this time. For a Catholic there is no question of hiving off and building another Church somewhere, in order to get it right this time.

He is as much a part of this ancient tradition as the Jew is of Jerusalem's. There are not two Jerusalems, much less ten thousand. There is only one, for better or worse. But in that one, the Jew sees Zion, City of our God, dearly beloved of God on high. And in the one Church that there is, a Catholic sees the Body of Christ, or, in another figure, the Bride of Christ. No matter how deeply stained she may be now, she will step forth on the final Day, immaculate. (The sort of perception at work in this paradoxical, even absurd, Catholic attitude is called faith, which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.)

Tradition implies a continuity developing slowly among a given people over a long period. You cannot create a tradition this morning. You may inaugurate something, but it Will not be a tradition until many years have passed. A non-Catholic Christian may urge in this connection that he and his denomination have an august tradition five hundred years old. But to be Catholic is to find oneself with St. Augustine, who, as a Catholic bishop, had to defend the only Church there was against the inroads (or the exits, rather) of the Donatists, who wanted to split off and start the thing over in the interest of purity. No, says Augustine: you cannot do that. For, of course, the Church herself is infinitely more than a tradition, although she is full of tradition(s). She is a holy mystery, created by God himself and, like Israel, taking a specific, visible, single identity and shape in history. She is not an aggregate, or a network, or an association of associations. She is as visible and solid as Peter or Polycarp or Augustine.

The Church is full of traditions. Everyone, both Catholic and non-Catholic, knows that. Her structure, her teaching, her worship, her piety, her "constituency" are all profoundly traditional.

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