Carl E. Olson's Blog, page 337

Did the Veil of Manoppello belong to Veronica? What is its significance?

Those are just a couple of the questions that came up when ZENIT interviewed German journalist and historian Paul Badde about his book, The Face of God: The Rediscovery Of The True Face of Jesus (Ignatius Press, 2010):

A veil in Manoppello, kept secret for centuries and only recently reemerging, illustrates Christ's resurrection in a way that will change the world, says Paul Badde.

Badde, author of "The Face of God: The Rediscovery of the True Face of Jesus" (Ignatius Press), explained to ZENIT how this veil features "uncountable" images of the Risen Christ.

The journalist and historian, and editor for the German newspaper "Die Welt," noted that the veil also illustrates much of what Benedict XVI wrote about in his newest book, "Jesus of Nazareth Part II: Holy Week -- From the Entrance into Jerusalem to the Resurrection" (Ignatius Press).

In fact, the Pope visited the shrine at Manoppello as one of the first trips of his pontificate, reflecting his decades-long interest in the meditation on the face of God, the author noted.

In this interview with ZENIT, Badde explained some of the conclusions of his research on this veil, and why he thinks it is bound to change the world.

ZENIT: Some have referred to the Veil of Manoppello as belonging to Veronica, and having the image of Jesus' face from before the Crucifixion. Your investigation, however, led you to a different conclusion. Could you clarify what this veil is?

Badde: This veil has had many names in the last 2000 years -- maintaining only its unique character in the same time.

It is, in fact, "the napkin" or "handkerchief" (in Greek: soudarion), to which St. John the Evangelist is referring in his report of the discovery of the empty tomb by St. Peter and himself, that they saw "apart" from the cloths (including the shroud of Joseph from Arimathea) in which Jesus had been buried.

This napkin, St. John says, had originally been laying upon the Face of Jesus.

This veil had to be kept completely secret right away -- together with the Shroud of Turin -- in the first community of the Apostles in Jerusalem due to the ritual impurity in Judaism of everything stemming from a grave. And it remained secret for many centuries.

This explains why it had been bearing many different names in the course of history after it appeared in public some hundred years later in the Anatolian town of Edessa for the first time.

Among all these different names are for instance: The Edessa Veil, The Image or Letter of King Abgar, The Camuliana Veil, The Mandylion, The Image Not Made by Man's Hand (in Greek: acheiropoieton), The Fourfolded Veil (in Greek: tetradiplon) or -- today -- The Holy Face (Il Volto Santo). The "Veil of Veronica" is just another name of all those that meant altogether this very veil in Manoppello.

The famous Veronica herself, though, who allegedly had wiped Jesus' Face on his way to Calvary, does not appear in the Gospels. It is not earlier than the Middle Ages, around the 12th century, that she became mentioned for the first time in pious tales and traditions. Her name contains, however, one of the real and true names of this veil, in a Latin and Greek mixture: Vera Ikon. This is: True Icon.

Read the entire interview on ZENIT.org.

"He invited me to partake of his sorrows...": From the Foreword to "Padre Pio Under Investigation"

"He invited me to partake of his sorrows..." | Vittorio Messori | From the Foreword to Padre Pio Under Investigation: The Secret Vatican Files by Francesco Castelli | Ignatius Insight

An exceptional document

"The future will reveal what today cannot be read in the life of Padre Pio of Pietrelcina." These words, written in January 1922 by Msgr. Raffaello Carlo Rossi, Bishop of Volterra-Inquisitor in San Giovanni Rotondo by order of the Holy Office in June 1921, when Padre Pio was just thirty-four years old—were then certainly a way to "cover his back", and avoid locking in too small a cage a man and a situation which to the prelate, sent on a reconnaissance mission to evaluate the stigmatic friar and the environment around him, had seemed—as we shall see—certainly out of the ordinary, but also substantially healthy and sincere. But those words were, at the same time, too easy a prophecy.

When we read them now—with Padre Pio having been proclaimed a saint in 2002, after many disagreements and vicissitudes—we can't help smiling. We now know very well what the future has said about that friar, rich since childhood in extraordinary charisms, but also—and I would say necessarily—subjected to a special attention on the part of the Church, and to a severity that often seemed excessive.

And we know it because, despite his humility and his reserve, the mission to which he had been called had an enormous echo, crossing all borders and channeling millions of pilgrims toward San Giovanni Rotondo. An event which, however one may have judged it, had captured the attention of everyone, believers and non-believers, helping considerably to strengthen the faith of many.

We should then know practically everything about him, since much has been written, both at a scholarly level and for the general public. But it is not so, as this volume by historian Fr. Francesco Castelli demonstrates. The book collects and analyzes what the jargon calls the Votum (that is, the final report of Msgr. Raffaello Carlo Rossi's inquiry, conducted, as noted, on behalf of the Holy Office), and other shorter texts like the Chronicle of Padre Pio, written by one of his spiritual directors, Fr. Benedetto Nardella of San Marco in Lamis.

These are almost entirely unpublished texts, and they are of remarkable documentary value: Since they were declared classified at that time, they didn't appear among the sources in the archives of San Giovanni Rotondo, and for this reason they were ignored for a long time. But in 2006, as is well known, Benedict XVI gave free access to the archives of the former Holy Office up until the year 1939, making it possible at last to examine what the archives held on the subject of the friar from Pietrelcina. The consequence of all this was the revival of the seemingly inexhaustible research on this saint, who has been long-loved and at the same time, in some circles, so discussed and looked upon with arrogant diffidence. These past few years have seen the arguments—both in favor and against the stigmatic Capuchin—rekindle, arguments that had apparently died down with the canonization.

Continue reading on Ignatius Insight...

Is Gonzaga still a Jesuit, Catholic university? The ruminations of a bewildered witness

Is Gonzaga still a Jesuit, Catholic university? The ruminations of a bewildered witness | Dr. Eric Cunningham, Department of History, Gonzaga University | Ignatius Insight | March 28, 2011

Introduction

"The function of the university" wrote Thomas Merton, "is to help men and women save their souls, and in so doing, to save their society: from what? From the hell of meaninglessness, of obsession, of complex artifice, of systematic lying, of criminal evasions and neglects, of self-destructive futilities." [1] When Merton, a Trappist monk, penned these thoughts in 1965, he was not referring specifically to Catholic universities, but to universities in general. I highlighted this passage from Love and Living back in 1989, and I've returned to it several times over the years. Every time I read it, I try to imagine how a state university official in 1965 might have reacted to the idea that universities exist to "save souls." Then I imagine how a Catholic university official in 2011 would react to the same thought. I can't help but think that the secular administrator and the Catholic administrator would both find it prudent to avoid any mention of "souls" and "salvation" in their mission statements. Phrases like "excellence," "global citizenship," "civic responsibility," and "social justice," work much better, being lofty enough to inspire, yet vague enough not to ruffle the feathers of potential customers who may not care one way or another if salvation is included in the costs of tuition.

Having spent a good portion of my life in universities, it seems to me that the most obvious function of all universities, secular, and Catholic, is to generate enough revenue to remain in operation and, hopefully, grow. What the students do with their souls while they're in college is pretty much up to them. If they were interested in saving their souls, though, it would be awfully nice if they could find a university that would help them do that.

The changing face of Jesuit Catholic identity

During my seven-and-a-half years as a faculty member at Gonzaga, I have participated in numerous campus conversations on Catholic mission and identity, and I have always taken what I think is a strong and outspokenly pro-Church position. I believe that in an era in which Jesuits are few, lay faculty have to be able to articulate the Church's position accurately, especially on the various matters in which faith and reason would seem to be in conflict. Unfortunately, in taking a pro-Church position, I have often found myself at odds with 1) Catholic colleagues who don't share "my opinion" of what Catholic means, 2) non-Catholic colleagues who are generally indifferent to the question, and find all of the "mission" talk something of an irritation, and 3) the occasional student who doesn't appreciate—to quote one anonymous respondent on a recent instructor evaluation—"having religion shoved down my throat." As frustrating as it's been to try to defend a mainstream Catholic worldview at Gonzaga, particularly when my opponents have so often been Jesuit priests, my career as a reluctant culture warrior has provided me with great opportunities for personal growth. I have learned the meaning of William Blake's assertion that "a fool who persists in his folly will become wise." The wisdom I have attained is the full awareness of the folly of feverishly trying to shore up Catholic culture at a campus that will probably soon either abandon, or be forced by circumstances to drop its Catholic identity.

Read the entire essay on Ignatius Insight...

"God thirsts that we may thirst for him"

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for the Third Sunday of Lent, March 27, 2011 | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Ex. 17:3-7
• Psa. 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9
• Rom. 5:1-2, 5-8
• Jn. 4:5-42 or 4:5-15, 19b-26, 39a, 40-42

It was a conversation that should not have taken place; it was a conversation started by God's thirst.

St. John wrote that Jesus "had to pass through Samaria" (Jn. 4:4). Samaria was indeed located between Judea and Galilee, but most Jews avoided going through it, traveling instead around the eastern edge of the region. The "had to," then, suggests a divine imperative. Traveling to and through Samaria was part of the Messiah's mission; it had to be done.

But why? After all, the Samaritans and Jews had a deeply intense dislike for one another. The Samaritans claimed to be descendents of the patriarch Joseph, but they were most likely a mixed population, the offspring of Israelites who had not been deported to Assyria during the exile and various Mesopotamian peoples. They identified themselves as true observers of the Mosaic law; the name "Samaritan" is derived from a Hebrew word meaning "keeper" of the law. The Samaritan, put simply, was the half-breed sibling who had no place at the family table and whose existence was only acknowledged in insult (cf. Jn. 8:48).

The Samaritan woman, when told by Jesus to give him a drink, made a reply reflecting this animosity. But it also revealed her understanding that Jewish men did not, under any circumstances, talk to Samaritan women. (In addition, the Jews were known to say that to drink Samaritan water was worse than drinking pig's blood!) It was, again, a conversation that shouldn't have taken place. But God was thirsty—for souls. 

Jesus, as he did so often, used a physical, temporal need to get to the root of the spiritual problem. "Whenever Our Lord wished to do a favor," wrote Archbishop Fulton Sheen of this encounter, "He always begins by asking for one." At first, his questions seemed intrusive, even rude, but in the end they opened the door to the answer. Jesus suggested the answer when hinting at his identity ("If you knew … who is saying to you…"). But the woman, likely both perplexed and curious, was focused on the practical, material challenge at hand: the need for a bucket, the depth of the well.

Her small world was a failing mixture of moral laxity, legal rigidity, and ethnic discord. She had little in common with upright, ethnically and ritually pure Jews. This woman, wrote St. Augustine, "who bore the type of the church, comes from strangers, for the church was to come from the Gentiles, an alien from the race of the Jews." Therefore, the great Doctor explained, we must recognize who this woman is. She is us; she is everyone who is in desperate need of the living water. "In that woman, then, let us hear ourselves," wrote Augustine, "and in her acknowledge ourselves and in her give thanks to God for ourselves."

Whatever her faults, the Samaritan woman was neither hard-headed nor hard-hearted. She quickly realized that Jesus unique. She soon identified him as a prophet; she then said, "I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Christ; when he comes, he will tell us everything." Very aware of the Pentateuch, the essential sacred text for Samaritans, she expected a prophet like Moses (Deut. 18:15) who would perfectly explain and live the Law. Even in the midst of a messy, immoral life, she believed the Messiah was coming.

What is striking, in relation to Lent, is the Samaritan woman's amazed statement to the people of the town: "Come see a man who has told me everything I have done." Through prayer, fasting, and repentance, we come closer to the man who knows everything about us: our sins, our needs, our hopes, our fears. "The wonder of prayer," remarks the Catechism, "is revealed beside the well where we come seeking water: there, Christ comes to meet every human being." Why does he meet us? Why does he start the conversation? Because he is thirsty: "God thirsts that we may thirst for him" (par. 2560).

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the March 7, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Surreal: Gonzaga VP invokes "Ex Corde Ecclesiae" to justify production of "The Vagina Monologues"

This developing story is unbelievable. Well, not really.

But, first, the believable: for some time now there has been a strong push by various faculty members and students at Gonzaga University (Spokane, WA) to have an on-campus production of "The Vagina Monologues" (TVM). Fomer president Fr. Robert Spitzer, S.J., while head of the Jesuit school (1998-2009), twice refused productions of the play; it was also vetoed last year.

But now, it appears, TVM may very well be performed this year on the Gonzaga campus. Dr. Eric Cunningham, a professor of history at the school, wrote the following letter to The Gonzaga Bulletin, published online two days ago, in which he stated:

When fliers advertising auditions for the "Vagina Monologues" began to appear last month, I wondered if "the conversation" about Eve Ensler's play was going to become a permanent part of Gonzaga's annual Rites of Spring. Judging from Academic Vice President Patricia Killen's memo to university employees last Thursday, it appears that we're going to be spared that conversation in favor of a different kind of conversation. We will not be discussing whether the university ban on the production of the VM is valid, and we will not be discussing whether the VM is appropriate cultural fare for a Catholic university. In one gesture the AVP has rendered both the ban and the debate unnecessary. By casting the VM as but a piece of a larger discussion on violence against women, she has deftly defused the controversy — at the possible risk of closing off discussion on a topic of great concern to many people in the Gonzaga community.

He then gets to the part that is most outrageous (as well as manipulative and cynical):

More interesting than the move to sidestep the debate on free speech vs. identity was the AVP's stratagem of invoking Pope John Paul II's "Ex Corde Ecclesiae" to justify an on-campus production of the Vagina Monologues.

Dr. Killen wrote:

"If, as Ex Corde Ecclesiae ('From the Heart of the Church') states, ' . . . by its Catholic character, a University is made more capable of conducting an impartial search for truth, a search that is neither subordinated to nor conditioned by particular interest of any kind,' then faculty, staff and students at Gonzaga are called to attend to and reflect on their own assumptions and presuppositions, and to engage in discourse about experiences of sexual violence, controversial art, ideas and events with scholarly charity (Ex Corde Ecclesiae, Introduction, Section 7)."

Cunningham makes several excellent points about this bold-faced misuse and abuse of Ex Corde Ecclesiae:

While good scholars will interpret Church documents in various ways, it would seem to be a stretch to reconcile the spirit of Ex Corde with an artifact whose substance and spirit run decidedly counter to formal Catholic teachings on love, sexuality and the "nuptial meaning" of the body — all of which are expressed with great clarity in The Theology of the Body lectures, also promulgated by John Paul II. Nevertheless, I'm grateful to Dr. Killen for bringing Ex Corde into public discussion. It's the first time in my eight years at Gonzaga that I've heard any administrator make reference to it, and I hope we're able to move decisively in the direction of implementing all of its various guidelines and mandates.

I hope there will be fruitful and mutually respectful dialogues on the "monologues" — it would be a welcome change. Thinking back to last year's controversy, it was clear that the pro-VM faction saw this primarily as an issue of free speech, and they felt their rights were being trampled by institutional intolerance. They seemed to ignore the fact that most of the opponents of the play saw this as an issue of institutional identity. The opponents believed that they had a moral obligation to stand with Catholic teachings on sexuality — not to oppress, but to show fidelity to the Church and to Gonzaga's religious tradition. What was at stake for these people was not freedom of speech, which as citizens we all enjoy, but the preservation of specific religious values, which as a Catholic school we have a duty to defend, or at the very least acknowledge. As I recall, many of those supporting the play exhibited little sensitivity toward, or even a full understanding of the values in question — and yet portrayed themselves as victims of a callous and unthinking regime.

He then argues—very effectively, in my opinion—that the core issue at stake is that of real freedom and authentic Catholic identity:

The real question at the core of this controversy is not whether certain Catholics at Gonzaga are trying to censor the media, silence voices, block access to art, or diminish the general awareness of violence against women — nobody wants that and nobody has the power to do that. "Vagina Monologues" has been openly performed since the mid-1990s; it has been read and discussed in classrooms all over the country, including ours. It can be purchased at any bookstore or accessed online by anybody, anytime. Neither Gonzaga nor the Catholic Church has the power to stop free speech in Spokane or anywhere else. From the standpoint of its opponents, the original decision to bar the production of the VM was not an attempt to undermine the rights of free people, but rather an attempt to protect the rights of a free Catholic university.

This, I think, is what was so troubling about last year's conversation. It seemed to go unrecognized by the pro-VM faction, which included students, faculty, staff, and administrators, that in the United States, a Catholic school is as free to be a Catholic school, as a playwright is to publish and produce her work. A critical component of any school's freedom is its right to establish standards of speech and expression that it defines as appropriate to its professed values. The real question then, is what are these values?

What is a Catholic university? As important as the questions of core curriculum, academic freedom, student life, and social justice obviously are, none of them are even answerable until we know what we actually stand for. We reproduce the mantra of "Catholic, Jesuit, and humanistic" in all our literature, but there exists no consensus here as to what these things mean. If you ask people at Gonzaga to define "Catholic," you are certain to get a wide variety of answers, ranging from the all-encompassing "well, Catholic means universal, so I guess everything is Catholic" to more specific definitions based on such things as authoritative Church documents — like "Ex Corde Ecclesiae."

Here is Dr. Cunningham's entire letter.

Jimmy Akin carefully considers Benedict XVI's thoughts on the conversion of Jews

Apologist and author Jimmy Akin has penned a lengthy and thoughtful piece on the National Catholic Register blog titled, "Pope: Don't Evangelize Jews! Really?" Here is the opening:

Pope Benedict's remarks concerning Jewish individuals in his recent book Jesus of Nazareth (vol. 2) (GET IT HERE! GET IT HERE!) have attracted considerable attention.

For example, the book contains a passage which some have interpreted as saying that the Church should not seek to convert Jewish individuals. It is not at all clear to me that this is what the pope is saying. The passage is complex and bears more than one interpretation. So let's dive in and see what we can make of it.

The beginning of the discussion (which is not usually quoted by people commenting on the text) is this. Starting on p. 44 of the book, Pope Benedict writes:

At this point we encounter once again the connection between the Gospel tradition and the basic elements of Pauline theology. If Jesus says in the eschatological discourse that the Gospel must first be proclaimed to the Gentiles and only then can the end come, we find exactly the same thing in Paul's Letter to the Romans: "A hardening has come upon part of Israel, until the full number of the Gentiles come in, and so all Israel will be saved" (11:25–26).

The full number of the Gentiles and all Israel: in this formula we see the universalism of the divine salvific will. For our purposes, though, the important point is that Paul, too, recognizes an age of the Gentiles, which is the present and which must be fulfilled if God's plan is to attain its goal.

So Pope Benedict is contemplating the two-stages of phases of history that precede the end of the world. First, there are what Our Lord refers to as "the times of the gentiles," in which the gospel is preached to all nations and the gentiles are given the chance to convert, and then the second stage in which the partial hardness that has come upon Israel is removed and so "all Israel will be saved"—a reference to a corporate conversion of the Jewish people at the end of history.

Note how this viewpoint differs from two rival viewpoints: First, it differs from the "Jews don't need Jesus, they have their own covenant" perspective. This idea, which has been trendy is some Catholic circles of late, is manifestly contrary to the teaching of the New Testament and to the historic teaching of the Church's magisterium. It also is not what Pope Benedict is advocating here. He is not saying that Jews don't need Jesus or that they don't need to become Christians. He is saying that they will corporately convert to Christ, but not until the end of time. Prior to that point, individual Jews may become Christians—as with the apostles and the very first Christians and with other converts from Judaism down through history. But the full, corporate conversion of Israel (which even then might not involve every single individual without exception) is something to be found only at the end of the world.

Definitely read the entire piece. Akin rightly focuses, I think, on the key distinction to be made between individuals who are Jewish and "all Israel", which is the primary focus of Benedict XVI in this section of Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week.

Also, I would point out that anyone who is inclined to say, "The Pope doesn't think Jews need Jesus in order to be saved!" that, first, the passage in question doesn't say any such thing, and secondly, it directly contradicts what Ratzinger/Benedict has said many, many times over many, many years. Here is one of many possible examples of his insistence on the unique and necessary salvific work of Jesus Christ:

In contemporary theological reflection there often emerges an approach to Jesus of Nazareth that considers him a particular, finite, historical figure, who reveals the divine not in an exclusive way, but in a way complementary with other revelatory and salvific figures. The Infinite, the Absolute, the Ultimate Mystery of God would thus manifest itself to humanity in many ways and in many historical figures: Jesus of Nazareth would be one of these. More concretely, for some, Jesus would be one of the many faces which the Logos has assumed in the course of time to communicate with humanity in a salvific way.

Furthermore, to justify the universality of Christian salvation as well as the fact of religious pluralism, it has been proposed that there is an economy of the eternal Word that is valid also outside the Church and is unrelated to her, in addition to an economy of the incarnate Word. The first would have a greater universal value than the second, which is limited to Christians, though God's presence would be more full in the second.

These theses are in profound conflict with the Christian faith. The doctrine of faith must be firmly believed which proclaims that Jesus of Nazareth, son of Mary, and he alone, is the Son and the Word of the Father. The Word, which "was in the beginning with God" (Jn 1:2) is the same as he who "became flesh" (Jn 1:14). In Jesus, "the Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16:16), "the whole fullness of divinity dwells in bodily form" (Col 2:9). He is the "only begotten Son of the Father, who is in the bosom of the Father" (Jn 1:18), his "beloved Son, in whom we have redemption... In him the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him, God was pleased to reconcile all things to himself, on earth and in the heavens, making peace by the blood of his Cross" (Col 1:13-14; 19-20).

Faithful to Sacred Scripture and refuting erroneous and reductive interpretations, the First Council of Nicaea solemnly defined its faith in: "Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the only begotten generated from the Father, that is, from the being of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in being with the Father, through whom all things were made, those in heaven and those on earth. For us men and for our salvation, he came down and became incarnate, was made man, suffered, and rose again on the third day. He ascended to the heavens and shall come again to judge the living and the dead". Following the teachings of the Fathers of the Church, the Council of Chalcedon also professed: "the one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, the same perfect in divinity and perfect in humanity, the same truly God and truly man..., one in being with the Father according to the divinity and one in being with us according to the humanity..., begotten of the Father before the ages according to the divinity and, in these last days, for us and our salvation, of Mary, the Virgin Mother of God, according to the humanity".

For this reason, the Second Vatican Council states that Christ "the new Adam...'image of the invisible God' (Col 1:15) is himself the perfect man who has restored that likeness to God in the children of Adam which had been disfigured since the first sin... As an innocent lamb he merited life for us by his blood which he freely shed. In him God reconciled us to himself and to one another, freeing us from the bondage of the devil and of sin, so that each one of us could say with the apostle: the Son of God 'loved me and gave himself up for me' (Gal 2:20)".

In this regard, John Paul II has explicitly declared: "To introduce any sort of separation between the Word and Jesus Christ is contrary to the Christian faith... Jesus is the Incarnate Word — a single and indivisible person... Christ is none other than Jesus of Nazareth; he is the Word of God made man for the salvation of all... In the process of discovering and appreciating the manifold gifts — especially the spiritual treasures — that God has bestowed on every people, we cannot separate those gifts from Jesus Christ, who is at the centre of God's plan of salvation". ...

Similarly, the doctrine of faith regarding the unicity of the salvific economy willed by the One and Triune God must be firmly believed, at the source and centre of which is the mystery of the incarnation of the Word, mediator of divine grace on the level of creation and redemption (cf. Col 1:15-20), he who recapitulates all things (cf. Eph 1:10), he "whom God has made our wisdom, our righteousness, and sanctification and redemption" (1 Cor 1:30). In fact, the mystery of Christ has its own intrinsic unity, which extends from the eternal choice in God to the parousia: "he [the Father] chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love" (Eph 1:4); "In Christ we are heirs, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will" (Eph 1:11); "For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers; those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified" (Rom 8:29-30).

The Church's Magisterium, faithful to divine revelation, reasserts that Jesus Christ is the mediator and the universal redeemer: "The Word of God, through whom all things were made, was made flesh, so that as perfect man he could save all men and sum up all things in himself. The Lord...is he whom the Father raised from the dead, exalted and placed at his right hand, constituting him judge of the living and the dead". This salvific mediation implies also the unicity of the redemptive sacrifice of Christ, eternal high priest (cf. Heb 6:20; 9:11; 10:12-14). (Dominus Iesus, pars 9-10, 11)

For more about Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week, visit www.JesusofNazareth2.com.

Bishop Aquila: Reception of Communion by pro-abort politicians "only creates grave scandal"

California Catholic Daily has posted excerpts from "the March 18 keynote address by Fargo, North Dakota, Bishop Samuel J. Aquila (bio) at the 10th Annual Symposium on the Spirituality and Identity of the Diocesan Priest, held in Philadelphia:

One must honestly ask, how many times and years may a Catholic politician vote for the so called "right to abortion", "murder" in the words of John Paul II in Evangelium Vitae (58), and still be able to receive Holy Communion? The continual reception of Holy Communion by those who so visibly contradict and promote a grave evil, even more than simply dissent, only creates grave scandal, undermines the teaching and governing authority of the Church and can be interpreted by the faithful as indifference to the teaching of Christ and the Church on the part of those who have the responsibility to govern. If we honestly pray with the Gospel we can see that hesitancy and non-accountability is not the way of Jesus Christ, but rather it is a failure in the exercise of governance.

Bishops and priests, as an act of loving obedience to Christ, must return to a full exercise of the governing authority of Christ witnessed in the Gospel. If we do not exercise that authority, are hesitant to exercise it, or doubt it, then it only leads to the ―father of lies‖ taking hold of the minds and hearts of the faithful, and their continuing to act in the ways of man and not the ways of God.

Pope Benedict XVI, in his conversation with Peter Seewald in the book Light of the World, made the following observation concerning the sexual abuse crisis among clergy, after speaking with the Archbishop of Dublin. In their conversation they spoke to a mentality prevalent after Vatican II. ―The prevailing mentality was that the Church must not be a Church of laws but, rather, a Church of love; she must not punish. Thus the awareness that punishment can be an act of love ceased to exist. This led to an odd darkening of the mind, even in very good people. Today we have to learn all over again that love for the sinner and love for the person who has been harmed are correctly balanced if I punish the sinner in the form that is possible and appropriate. In this respect there was in the past a change of mentality, in which the law and need for punishment were obscured. Ultimately this also narrowed the concept of love, which in fact is not just being nice or courteous, but is found in the truth (emphasis added). And another component of truth is that I must punish the one who has sinned against real love" (Pages 25-26).

As the Holy Father notes love corrects for the good of the person. Correction can be difficult and painful, as parents know, yet as a shepherd I am willing to suffer the rejection and anger of another when I speak the truth for the good of the person and the Bride of Christ. To correct and/or to punish someone who has gravely sinned against real love is an act of servant love and is found in the truth!

No word yet if Fr. Thomas Reese has told this or that media outlet that Bishop Aquila is "that guy in Fargo". The entire address can be accessed as a PDF file on the Diocese of Fargo website.

The Mystery of the Annunciation is the Mystery of Grace

The Mystery of the Annunciation is the Mystery of Grace | Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) | Ignatius Insight

The mystery of the annunciation to Mary is not just a mystery of silence.It is above and beyond all that a mystery of grace.

We feel compelled to ask ourselves: Why did Christ really want to be born of a virgin? It was certainly possible for him to have been born of a normal marriage. That would not have affected his divine Sonship, which was not dependent on his virgin birth and could equally well have been combined with another kind of birth. There is no question here of a downgrading of marriage or of the marriage relationship; nor is it a question of better safeguarding the divine Sonship. Why then?

We find the answer when we open the Old Testament and see that the mystery of Mary is prepared for at every important stage in salvation history. It begins with Sarah, the mother of Isaac, who had been barren, but when she was well on in years and had lost the power of giving life, became, by the power of God, the mother of Isaac and so of the chosen people.

The process continues with Anna, the mother of Samuel, who was likewise barren, but eventually gave birth; with the mother of Samson, or again with Elizabeth, the mother of John the Baptizer. The meaning of all these events is the same: that salvation comes, not from human beings and their powers, but solely from God—from an act of his grace.

(From Dogma und Verkundigung, pp. 375ff; quoted in Co-Workers of the Truth: Meditations for Every Day of the Year [Ignatius Press, 1992], pp. 99-100.)

The annunciation to Mary happens to a woman, in an insignificant town in half-pagan Galilee, known neither to Josephus nor the Talmud. The entire scene was "unusual for Jewish sensibilities. God reveals himself, where and to whom he wishes." Thus begins a new way, at whose center stands no longer the temple, but the simplicity of Jesus Christ. He is now the true temple, the tent of meeting.

The salutation to Mary (Lk 1:28-32) is modeled closely on Zephaniah 3: 14-17: Mary is the daughter Zion addressed there, summoned to " rejoice", in formed that the Lord is coming to her. Her fear is removed, since the Lord is in her midst to save her. Laurentin makes the very beautiful remark on this text: "... As so often, the word of God proves to be a mustard seed.... One understands why Mary was so frightened by this message (Lk 1:29). Her fear comes not from lack of understanding nor from that small-hearted anxiety to which some would like to reduce it. It comes from the trepidation of that encounter with God, that immeasurable joy which can make the most hardened natures quake."

In the address of the angel, the underlying motif the Lucan portrait of Mary surfaces: she is in person the true Zion, toward whom hopes have yearned throughout all the devastations of history. She is the true Israel in whom Old and New Covenant, Israel and Church, are indivisibly one. She is the "people of God" bearing fruit through God's gracious power. ...

Transcending all problems, Marian devotion is the rapture of joy over the true, indestructible Israel; it is a blissful entering into the joy of the Magnificat and thereby it is the praise of him to whom the daughter Zion owes her whole self and whom she bears, the true, incorruptible, indestructible Ark of the Covenant.

(From Daughter Zion: Meditations on the Church's Marian Belief [Ignatius Press, 1983], pp. 42-43, 82.)

Related Ignatius Insight Articles and Excerpts:

• Mary in Byzantine Doctrine and Devotion | Brother John M. Samaha, S.M.
• Fairest Daughter of the Father: On the Solemnity of the Assumption | Rev. Charles M. Mangan
• The Blessed Virgin in the History of Christianity | John A. Hardon, S.J.
• "Hail, Full of Grace": Mary, the Mother of Believers | Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger
• Mary in Feminist Theology: Mother of God or Domesticated Goddess? | Fr. Manfred Hauke
• Excerpts from The Rosary: Chain of Hope | Fr. Benedict Groeschel, C.F.R.
• The Past Her Prelude: Marian Imagery in the Old Testament | Sandra Miesel
• Immaculate Mary, Matchless in Grace | John Saward
• The Medieval Mary | The Introduction to Mary in the Middle Ages | by Luigi Gambero
• Misgivings About Mary | Dr. James Hitchcock
• Born of the Virgin Mary | Paul Claudel
• Assumed Into Mother's Arms | Carl E. Olson
• The Disciple Contemplates the Mother | Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis

How many Catholics really support "gay marriage"?

You've likely seen the reports and headlines proclaiming some variation on the following theme/discovery/finding/spin:

• Catholics Say "I Do" to gay marriage
• Survey: Most US Catholics support gay rights
• U.S. Catholics break with church on gay relationships

And so forth and so on. My first reaction was, "I bet there is a big difference in the numbers between Catholics who go to Mass once in a while and disagree with a number of Church teachings and Catholics who attend Mass each week and seek to follow Church teaching, period." Why? Because that is almost always the case in polls intent on showing how "Catholics" don't like/ignore/disdain/are clueless about Catholic teaching.

I didn't have time to look through the Public Religion Research Institute poll touted by the stories; thankfully, Thomas Peters has been all over this story:

Last week I began to expose the coordinated efforts of well-funded gay-rights groups to subvert the Church's teaching on homosexuality and marriage by funding groups, including "Catholic" groups, whose sole purpose is to change our minds about these issues.

In that post I focused on a single organization – Arcus (Latin for "rainbow") – which alone has contributed almost $700,000 to these subversive efforts in the past few years.

This week Arcus was at it again, this time funding the Public Religion Research Institute (PRRI) to release a poll covering Catholic attitudes on Gay and Lesbian issues. I'm guessing most of us have seen the resulting headlines this week proclaiming that "Catholics support same-sex marriage."

And:

The first important thing to realize about the results is that the less Catholics care about their faith, the more likely they are to support same-sex marriage:

Do read his entire piece at CatholicVote.org. Also, Dr. Jeff Mirus of CatholicCulture.org has written a piece, "Catholics and Gay Marriage: Caution with Numbers", that also analyzes the data more carefully than most non-Catholic news outlets:

In other words, what the survey is really telling us is that Catholics committed enough to attend Church weekly or more (that is, practicing Catholics in the traditional sense) overwhelmingly oppose gay marriage, but these same people are not quite prepared to rule out any possible form of legal recognition of what we might call gay households, with attendant civil benefits. Insofar as the results lead us to question the Catholicity of the frequent church-goers, they actually tell us very little about the Faith of the respondents. Instead, they reveal a characteristic Catholic and American reluctance to deny to others what the Faith does not insist be denied. This may be an unfortunate generosity, but it is not a doctrinal issue. (That I believe Catholics should have a keener sense of the demands of the common good in these matters is made eminently clear in a previous On the Culture entry, The End of Paralysis.)

Indeed, one of the points made in the study is that the more a particular survey question emphasizes that it is asking about some legal recognition other than true marriage, the less Catholics are concerned about it. Put another way, the more often people go to Church, the keener they are to reserve true marriage for heterosexual couples, as the Church teaches they must.

Bryan Cones of the U.S. Catholic, however, has a different perspective, what I'll kindly call "confused":

The faithful disagree with the church's teaching for some reason. I think this is just as likely as No. 2. After all, many Catholics know gay and lesbian people, have gay and lesbian children or relatives, or are themselves LGBT--we do baptize regardless of sexual orientation, after all. The experience of the faithful is telling them that same-gender relationships are capable of being loving, fulfilling, and life-giving. Many same-gender couples raise children as well. It's hard to square that experience with church teaching that says a same-gender sexual orientation is an "objective disorder" to an "intrinsically evil act." Nor do they see why these families should not be afforded some legal protection, whether marriage or a marriage-like arrangement.

Unfortunately, what is called for here is conversation in the church about this issue, even if that doesn't immediately lead to consensus on how best to move forward--a point I argued in a column some time ago. That conversation must start by separating the civil and religious dimensions of the question, but it quite frankly can't stop at the civil ones. Indeed, if we are not going to take the experience of LGBT Catholics seriously, we should stop baptizing them--an option equally stupid, impossible, and contrary to the will of God and the practice of the church.

There are several problems here, including:

• The important distinction between homosexual orientation/inclination and homosexual acts is blurred. Both are, the Catechism teaches, disordered, but the inclination is "objectively disordered" (that is, oriented to an objectively sinful act), while "homosexual acts are intrinsically disordered" (par. 2357), that is, they are sinful in and of themselves. Having the inclination does not require acting upon that inclination, just as the man who is inclined to commit adultery or view pornography has a choice when it comes to giving in to the temptation to commit such actions. 

• Church teaching about homosexual acts is so clear and straightforward—they are "acts of grave depravity" and "are contrary to the natural law" (CCC, par. 2357)—that a call to "conversation in the church" is simply a way of either buying time, avoiding the obvious, or figuring a way to reject the truth. Any conversation aimed at undermining Church teaching, rather than explaining it to the confused or uneducated, is not conversation; it is dissent.

• The appeal to "experience" is a common and tired practice. Alcoholism and viewing pornography and committing adultery are increasingly common—should we also consider the "experience" of those who are alcoholic, addicted to pornography, and commit adultery in order to deny the grave and objective sinfulness of those acts? Right. I didn't think so.

• Saying that "if we are not going to take the experience of LGBT Catholics seriously, we should stop baptizing them" is, frankly, one of the most ridiculous things I've heard in a while. It can only be said, I think, if the author really believes that homosexual acts are morallly acceptable (unless we are supposed to believe, like idiots, that "LGBT Catholics" who wish to be "married" have no intention of engaging in homosexual acts with their "spouse"). Last time I looked, the sacrament of Baptism cleanses from both original and (in the case of a person of the age of reason) personal sin. Baptism also makes us children of God, who are called and enabled to live holy lives, able to reject sin—whether it be homosexual acts, stealing, adultery, alcholism, etc. Put another way, baptism comes with both rights and responsibilities. Far from being a free hall pass, it is a call to holiness and chastity.

• In the end, Cones apparently puts more stock in the "experience" of "LGBT Catholics" than he does in the teachings of the Church, the power of the sacraments, and the grace of God. The problem, then, runs even more deeply than this or that moral issue, however important they are.

In light of that, it's worth quoting this from the Catechism:

The number of men and women who have deep-seated homosexual tendencies is not negligible. This inclination, which is objectively disordered, constitutes for most of them a trial. They must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided. These persons are called to fulfill God's will in their lives and, if they are Christians, to unite to the sacrifice of the Lord's Cross the difficulties they may encounter from their condition.

Homosexual persons are called to chastity. By the virtues of self-mastery that teach them inner freedom, at times by the support of disinterested friendship, by prayer and sacramental grace, they can and should gradually and resolutely approach Christian perfection. (pars. 2358-9).

Related on Ignatius Insight:

• Authentic Freedom and the Homosexual Person | Dr. Mark Lowery
• Contraception and Homosexuality: The Sterile Link of Separation | Dr. Raymond Dennehy
• Sexual Orientation and the Catholic Church | Dr. Charles E. Rice
• Privacy, the Courts, and the Culture of Death | An Interview with Dr. Janet E. Smith
• Human Sexuality and the Catholic Church | Donald P. Asci
• The Truth About Conscience | John F. Kippley
• Practicing Chastity in an Unchaste Age | Bishop Joseph F. Martino
• Homosexual Orientation Is Not a "Gift" | James Hitchcock
• Can I Quote You On That? Talking to the Media About Homosexuality and the Priesthood | Mark Brumley

"Was Jesus a political activist?"

That is the question and topic addressed by Kathryn Jean Lopez in an exclusive post on the Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week blog:

I don't know if I feel qualified to call Jesus a political activist, but I do know that our activism is only as good as our prayers. That politics only makes sense, is only fully worth the effort, if it is always in service to something with much more permanence than a campaign or even a government.

Was Jesus a card-carrying member of the ACLU? Did he donate to the National Right to Life Committee? I don't believe we've seen it in the tax returns.

But by bothering with us – by walking among men and giving us a model for life in this world, by having mercy on sinners he chose to be the early Church leaders – true cultural trailblazers – he made clear that political activism here is worthy of our time and effort. If it's worth him living and dying and rising among us, it's clearly worth our prayerful lives of engagement.

Not only does the reality and testimony to his presence among us as a man remind us that this place is important on our way home, that he is Truth itself should be the ultimate roadmap to the political activists.

As Christians, our involvement in politics is only as good as our faithfulness. We are politically active because of our love of God and man – of our brothers and sisters in Christ.

Read the entire post.