Lin Wilder's Blog, page 23

Catholics and Bonhoeffer’s Cheap Grace

A figure posed with head resting on hand with a headache caused by loud talkers around himCatholics and Bonhoeffer’s cheap grace

Because I am outspoken about being Catholic, in the early years following my conversion, I frequently entered into conversation with those who no longer attend Mass. Almost always, the first few reasons were ideologic: “I disagree with the Church on abortion, birth control, homosexuality, and  the church’s refusal to ordain women as priests”  tended to head the list.

Anne Rice enthusiastically and publically returned to Catholicism and then  left again because of the same list.

But things changed in 2016.

And even more in 2020.

Suddenly, Anne Rice’s objections to Catholicism were legitimized. Including even a few she’d not mentioned: euthanasia, gender affirmation and same-sex marriage lead a long and confounding list of sin now institutionalized in Democratic ideology.

When Fr. Greg Altman posted his notorious video called, You Cannot Be Catholic & A Democrat, I wholeheartedly agreed. Indeed, I thought it self-evident. And yet, fifty-two percent of Catholics voted self-professed Catholic Biden in as President. In doing so, Americans have rid themselves of one of the most disliked presidents in history while unleashing one of the most radically pro-abortion agendas in the world. 

Prophetic words from Bonhoeffer.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was the Lutheran scholar, spy and martyr executed before the age of forty by Nazi Germany. I have read his book, The Cost of Discipleship, three times. With each reading, I’m more persuaded that he was also a prophet. 

“This commandment, that we should love our enemies and forgo revenge will grow even more urgent in the holy struggle which lies before us and in which we partly have already been engaged for years. In it love and hate engage in mortal combat. It is the urgent duty of every Christian soul to prepare itself for it. The time is coming when the confession of the living God will incur not only the hatred and the fury of the world, for on the whole it has come to that already, but complete ostracism from ‘human society,’ as they call it. The Christians will be hounded from place to place, subjected to physical assault, maltreatment and death of every kind. We are approaching an age of widespread persecution. Therein lies the true significance of all the movements and conflicts of our age. Our adversaries seek to root out the Christian Church and the Christian faith because they cannot live side by side with us, because they see in every word we utter and every deed we do, even when they are not specifically directed against them, a condemnation of their own words and deeds. They are not far wrong.
Dietrich Bohhoeffer

Bonhoeffer writes about the German Lutheran church in pre-WW ll Germany. Desperate to appease Hitler-and their lives- the leadership of the Lutheran state church approved Hitler’s plan to exterminate the Jews. Not so baldly put, of course. The words of evil always obfuscate the real meaning, euphemisms are a device which works wonderfully well to manipulate thought.  In his splendid biography, Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Spy Prophet, Eric Metaxes details the diabolical manner in which the Lutheran Church was corrupted and brought to submission by the German government. 

The phrase “cheap grace” is borrowed from Martin Luther’s protest against the selling of indulgences by the 16th century Catholic Church. This was one of the many sins committed by the Catholic hierarchy which led to the Reformation. Luther is referring to the practice of cheapening the grace of God by selling it. Over five centuries later, I realize that in Bonhoeffer’s book, The Cost of Discipleship lies the answer to what has happened to us Catholics and Bonhoeffer’s cheap grace.

There is no surfeit of pundits writing about the “why” of this acceleration into the darkness.The sexual revolution.Feminism, of the “toxic” variety.The Catholic church and its decades-long sexual abuse.Our American rather free-for-all attitude toward rights.

But the answer is simpler-and older. Belief is not enough.

After I read The Cost of Discipleship the last time, [embedded in the link is a free PDF] I was reminded of the very hardest part of faith, of any religion: obedience. So difficult at times that it feels impossible. And without an ongoing personal relationship with Christ and His sacraments, obedience is impossible.

Writing about the disciples, Bonhoeffer examines the two-step process of conversion.

The call.Obedience.

“The response of the disciples is an act of obedience, not a confession of faith in Jesus. How could the call immediately evoke obedience? The story is a stumbling-block for the natural reason… Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship, and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ. It remains an abstract idea, a myth which has a place for the Fatherhood of God, but omits Christ as the living Son. And a Christianity of that kind is nothing more or less than the end of discipleship. In such a religion there is trust in God, but no following of Christ….Discipleship without Jesus Christ is a way of our own choosing. It may be the ideal way. It may even lead to martyrdom, but it is devoid of all promise. Jesus will certainly reject it….”

During the process of my conversion, many perhaps most, of my former beliefs and values died. Along with them so did some dear friendships. 

Decades later, much of my faith has been assimilated into my being. 

But are there times when obedience still feels impossible?

Yes.

Yes.

At times every hour of my day.

Maura Harrison, my online poet and artist friend, penned a poem that explains our battle poignantly.

Who are These Clothed in White Robes?
Reflection on Rev 7:14-17

We’re poor.
                      Crumbling culture crashes down
hateful curses, cancelation, control
of the soul. Our beliefs are pinned, pressed, ground
into the grinder’s barbs. It takes its toll.

We are tumbled in tribulation,
into pits of society’s gravel,
turned and trained by godless excavation
into fine sand, swept out as dust and dull.

Choking, sighing, we take our thirsty mess—
grated mar—to the depths of love, to Heart,
to the color of blood that lives to bless
and burn. We emerge robed in white and depart

the quarry like a holy hot mirage,
undulating with joy and God’s own will
while sun lights our facets, tearless because
we spring from where the living waters spill.

Maura Harrison

The post Catholics and Bonhoeffer’s Cheap Grace appeared first on Lin Wilder.

The Cities of Sin: the Gates of Hell?

Second Chance written on rural roadThe cities of sin: the gates of Hell?

A most peculiar title, isn’t it? It’s language is disquieting, even frightening, more terrfying even than Covid19 and its endless vaccines and most assuredly anti-woke.

Sin…

Hell…

The Christian liturgical reading for last Sunday, October 24th was about the blind beggar Bartimeus. It’s one that always reaches out and grabs me. Bartimeus is the blind man sitting by the Jericho gate who annoys everyone with his increasingly loud cries begging “Jesus, have pity on me.”

Bartimeus ignores all the voices who try to silence him and calls out even louder, “Jesus, have pity on me.”

The phrase in the title, “the cities of sin,” is not mine, but Bishop Robert Barron’s, from his sermon on this gospel passage. Bishop Barron calls his homily, “Are You Blinded by Cities of Sin?”

The second phrase is my own. Used in this article primarily because an online friend’s artwork has prompted me to read Dante’s Divine Comedy.

Finally.

Maura Harrsion is an artist and poet whose art work on the Inferno sufficiently galvanized me to change, “I really should read “Dante’s Divine Comedy” some day” to “Do it!”

I am currently working my way through 100daysofdante, thanks to Maura. Hence I’m thinking about hell and am finding that Dante’s medieval words feel eerily relevant. To me and to each one of us.

Here and now.

More on Dante momentarily but first back to Bartimeus.

So what does the Bishop Barron mean by his phrase, “blinded by the cities of sin?”

Remember Jericho and Joshua?

Of course and we can’t help noticing that this passage makes a point of stating that Jesus and the disciples were leaving Jericho.

Okay, so?

Indeed.

Until I listened to Barron’s fifteen minute homily, I never stopped to think about that mention of Jericho. But it’s not just there for color. The city-Jericho- represents the cities of sin, Bishop Barron states unequivocally.

As usual, Bishop Barron packs his sermon with a bunch of great points for our rumination. Here are just a few:

Unlike many of those who Jesus healed, Bartimeus is named, indicating that he was known at the time of the gospel’s writing. Supporting the history or “facticity” of this gospel passage.Bartimeus is sitting by the Jericho gates- the city whose walls were destroyed because it was the city of sin says Bishop Barron. We who live in the cities of sin are blind. Bartimeus is all of us, the Bishop reminds us. For all us-to varying degrees- live in the cities of sin: the world. And so we are incapable of seeing clearly.Bartimeus begs Jesus. Refusing to cower and cave in to the people telling him to shut up, he cries out even louder.Bishop Barron asks rhetorically, isn’t begging the appropriate posture?“Any of us who’ve gone through a 12 step program knows we cannot get there alone…”I have to give myself over to a higher power, I cannot do this alone…”Okay got it but why the jump to the gates of hell?

Because we can read the “signs of the times.”

These first words pierce and then dig deep into our hearts:

“Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself in a dark wilderness, for I had wandered from the straight and true.”

Yes, we Americans voted out perhaps one of the more despised American Presidents in our history.

To vote in the most radical abortion agenda in the world- called women’s health care by politicians who call themselves catholic. (small c intentional.)

Infanticide is now legal.

Even our 21st-culture-steeped reason can sense the yawning consequences of these, and many other, abominations on us individually and as a nation.

Approaching the gates of hell, the poet Dante writes in Canto lll, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here…thou shalt behold the people dolorous, who have forgone the good of intellect…

In similar wise the evil seed of Adam
Throw themselves from that margin one by one,
At signals, as a bird unto its lure.
So they depart across the dusky wave,
And ere upon the other side they land,
Again on this side a new troop assembles.
“My son,” the courteous Master said to me,
“All those who perish in the wrath of God
Here meet together out of every land;
And ready are they to pass o’er the river,
Because celestial Justice spurs them on,
So that their fear is turned into desire.”

I italiciized Dante’s words because they fit all sin, all sinners. Sin saddens us (makes us dolorous) and is the consequence of forgoing the Good of intellect. Of ignoring, even mocking Justice.

For those souls in hell, it is too late to change.

What do we do? What can we do?

When Bartimeus rose, he “threw off his cloak.” Once more Bishop Barron tells us how significant is this small detail.

This was a poor beggar- his cloak his only property. It kept him warm during the chill of the night. Throwing it aside rendered him capable of surrendering, receiving, emptying. We too are poor. But our poverty is not material.

We are weighed down by knowledge, Fr. Paul Scalia writes that St. Patrick wore a breastplate with a prayer against “Every knowledge that blinds the soul of man…”

Freedom from blindness requires poverty, the willingness to lose our wealth and supposed control. In the 19thcentury South, the financial benefits of slavery blinded men to the grave evil of that institution. Similarly, we have arranged comfortable, autonomous lives around Scientism, a false notion of freedom, and the contraceptive mentality.

We wear a heavy cloak, not easily thrown aside. We will regain our sight only when we are willing to divest ourselves of all that our “knowledge” has gained us. In short, our problem is not only one of the intellect but of the will. We must be willing to change our lives radically in order to see clearly.

The Knowledge That Blinds

We need virtue and grace to renounce our addictions. Whether they be food, drugs, or to all the news that leads us to judge others, gossip, envy, curiosity, the need to follow even when we know better.

Virtue and grace do not come easily… unless we beg.

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asks Bartmeus.

“I want to see.”

A Goldfish jumping out of a small crowded bowl into a larger empty bowlIf you too have felt the nudge to read Dante’s Inferno,

please join me. Yes, Dante sticks to the tenents of the Apostles Creed: only baptized faithful souls can be admitted to heaven. But his gentle, loving treatment of virtous pagans like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle is magnificent. Dr. William Weaver, the accompanying video makes sure we don’t miss these graceful ideas.

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For Such a Time As This- Esther’s Song

Marty Goetz and Misha singing For Such a time as This, Esther’s songFor such a time as this (Esther’s Song)

Until I met and became friends with Linda Hardy, I’d never heard of Marty Goetz. But once she told me about his music- the psalms put to the music in his head, I listened to many of them, often more than a few times.

One day, while discussing our mutual vocations, I told Linda that I was working on the story of Esther. Later that day she texted me this glorious song by Marty and his daughter Misha. Scroll back up and listen to Marty and Misha sing, For Such a Time as This.

I’ve listened to it at least twenty times.

And checked out his online newsletter.

Here is a snippet from his latest.

“Jenny and I are returning to Nashville, TN from Austin, TX after witnessing, along with family and friends, the ‘Brit Milah’—covenant of circumcision—performed on the newest member of our ‘tribe,’ Samuel Andrew Hoyt.’

Everyone gathered to join in this ‘mitzvah’—this good and godly blessing—was blessed to be a part of it. (Everyone except Samuel, that is!) Our precious daughter, Misha and her amazing husband, Joshua, stood close by the ‘mohel’—the man appointed to perform the ritual—as Caleb, now ‘promoted’ to ‘big brother’ sang over and comforted his new, little sibling.

We were ‘kvelling’—swelling with pride to be Samuel’s grandparents—as well as agonizing over his plaintive pleas for it all to stop; or at least that’s how I heard it! (Grateful are we all for a skilled surgeon instead of a flint knife, used by Abraham back in the days when this all began.)”

I can hear the joy, love and gratitude for life, family and his Lord bursting out of Marty’s words, can’t you?

The title of the song is a direct quote from The Book of Esther.

‘These words of Esther were reported to Mordecai, who sent back the following reply, ‘Do not suppose that, because you are in the king’s palace, you are going to be the one Jew to escape. No; if you persist in remaining silent at such a time, relief and deliverance will come to the Jews from another place, but both you and the House of your father will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to the throne for just such a time as this.’

The Book of Esther

This past Sunday, while praying the Dvivine Office, I was- to put it mildly- thrilled to find her in the daily office readings.

“It was in the days of Ahasuerus, the Ahasuerus whose empire stretched from India to Ethiopia and comprised one hundred and twenty-seven provinces….”

How many times have I read these words mindlessly?

Never once stopping to ask myself any of the hundreds of questions that filled my mind when I began writing The Reluctant Queen.

Never stopping to consider that woman, Esther…to wonder about the miracle wrought through her.

But after my year-long immersion in the ancient Persian kingdom and the Babylonian exile while writing Esther’s story, no longer are they words on a page. Instead, the names of these people have heft and weight. Their struggles vary only superficially from our own. The hope and consolation from those simple six words: For just such a time as this is not imagined.

This current darkness, that at times is so oppressive and feels so heavy will not win. His two-edged sword of Truth will cut through the lies and hypocrisies. The Book of Esther, just like all these Bible “stories” are not myths.

Rather they are a call, opportunity– even a command.

The Plans I have for you-Jeremiah.

This one below was the first of Marty and his daughter Misha’s songs I heard.

Enjoy!

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Never Forget Our Friends in Heaven

Saints as friends?Never forget our friends in heaven

Upon conversion to Catholic Christianity, it was if I’d landed in another universe, one filled with women I did not recognize and could not relate to. I met joyous moms with five, seven, ten kids who seemed filled with light, life and children. Women who continued their pregnancy through to the birth of a child she knew would live only hours or days.

In a word, saints. Or so they seemed to me. Too far away for friendship-even conversation…unreachable.

But after I read about a “conversation” between St. Teresa of Avila and Christ about the plight of her best friend John, I was intrigued. To Teresa’s fears about the consequences of the nine-month long dungeon imprisonment and near starvation of her beloved St. John of the Cross, the Lord replied:

“Teresa, whom the Lord loves, he also chastises, this is how I treat all my friends.”

The acerbic Spanish nun allegedly replied to Jesus, “No wonder you have so few of them.”

I laughed heartily then and still do as I consider the writings of this mystic; this woman who considered herself ‘too stupid’ to write about her methods of prayer. And only did so because of her vow of obedience. Teresa’s descriptions of her sins of vanity, pride and selfishness are ruthless.

Such a puzzling combination of gut-wrenching self-knowledge, wit, wisdom and mysticism. And yet my connection with St. Teresa of Avila is undeniable and, at times, audible.

So much so that her pithy poem shown in the image ends the Prologue of my first novel. Prayed by the agnostic protagonist, Dr. Lindsey McCall, in her prison cell. More on the Spanish saint and me in a bit but first some background.

Teresa’s three books are considered to be primers for mystics from all traditions.

A German Jewish philosopher and atheist named Edith Stein, upon reading the books of Teresa of Avila in the early part of the last century early would utter in astonishment, “This is truth!”  She would become St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, Carmelite nun and murdered by the Nazis at Auschwitz in 1942.

Teresa of Avila lived and died over 500 years ago in a time we can’t relate to unless we think past our assumptions and consider what was happening in the sixteenth century. Wars, political and economic instability, a near constant battle between religious ideologies and scientific discoveries. Almost continual turmoil where accepted realities of the culture were frequently overturned.

Her admonition to her fellow nuns, “All times are dangerous times,” surely fits the chaos of our 21st-century- world.

Teresa’s insights into “Your Majesty” -her method of addressing our Lord, could have been fuel for the Inquisition had she come to their attention. For she was one of the first to conceive of the Triune God as Wisdom, Power and Love.

Her presence on my committee was foreordained.

When my new vocation of writing fiction made itself known, I decided I needed a committee. Since a committee had been required for my doctoral dissertation, it was only reasonable that in my new incarnation as a Catholic fiction writer, forming a committee was the first step. A committee with heft.

The committee chair could be none other than St. Ignatius of Loyola [to me, he’s the guy who became Catholic because he had nothing else to do.] And it was at “his church” that this new, unplanned vocation showed up. Teresa is accompanied by St. Francis, St. Thomas More [of course], Teresa Benedicta, St. John Paul ll: a committee with heft.

Does considering saints as advisors and friends sound odd?

Before answering consider our recitation of the Apostle’s Creed: ‘I believe in the community of saints’.

If a community then doesn’t that imply membership?

And doesn’t membership convey benefits?

Like conversation?

Ponder St Paul’s magnificent words to the Ephesians for a moment or five.

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints, and are of God’s household, having been built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the corner stone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together is growing into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are being built together into a dwelling of God in the Spirit.

Coincidentally, a number of years ago, shortly after moving from the east coast to the west where we now live, we drove to Los Angeles and visited the Cathedral there, The Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels. The walls of the cathedral are entirely adorned with images of the saints. While walking around the church, I realized that if I meant what I said each time I recited the prayers of the faithful, a relationship would be developed.

I could get some help…affirmation for the committee.

These are just a few of the convictions I have learned from Teresa of Avila:

Anyone can gain intimacy with our LordWhat is required is desire, persistence and enduranceConstant attention to clean out what she called the ‘crystal castle’ of our soulsAbove all else, humilityAnd a love for St. Paul– this long before I knew I’d write the – still considered him somewhat of a misognyistThere is a hell. Teresa was taken there…told that her sins could have taken her there had she not repented. It is filled mostly with those who did not believe it existed.Teresa of Avila was the first female Doctor of the Church and this past Friday, October 15, was her feast day.

This long-ago woman at times is so real to me that I can hear her. Often without conscious awareness that I am asking for help, I hear a response in a cadence and words that feel uniquely hers.

Teresa called them locutions when she spoke with Christ, I’ve never read what the convention is for the conversation from a saint but here are a couple of examples of what I mean.

The first novel was an arduous task. While on a long walk with the dogs in Nevada, I was battling all the self-criticism, insecurity and voices shouting, “Are you crazy? You can’t write a novel, you’re too…” “You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Quite distinctly, I heard, “Did you think this would not require hard work?”

So clearly that I stopped still, looking around and then realized….and grinned. Hence St. Teresa’s dominance not just in the Prologue but of an entire chapter in that first novel.

And got back to work.

Never forget our friends in Heaven!

Give take hand. Woman’s hand is open and gives or takes something. Human people hand sign isolated on white background. Open palm trust and friendship. Gentle hand for cooperation or assistance help

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In the Belly of the Whale: Jonah, The Reluctant Prophet

Why not me symbol. Businessman turns a cube and changes words why me to why not. Beautiful orange background. Business and why not me concept. Copy space.In the Belly of the Whale: Jonah, The Reluctant Prophet.

We’ve all been there.

Alone.

In the dark.

Terrified.

In the belly of the whale: Jonah, the reluctant prophet.

Just four chapters long, the book of Jonah seems at first to be just another fantastic Bible story.

Surely a wild tale, of course it’s allegory, right?

And yet, Jesus Himself speaks about Jonah, calling him an “early preacher!”

A fact that is both consoling and terrifying- I’ll return to this comment in a bit, first, some background.

38 Then some of the teachers of the Law and the proud religious law-keepers said to Jesus, “Teacher, we would like to have you do something special for us to see.” 39 He said to them, “The sinful people of this day look for something special to see. There will be nothing special to see but the powerful works of the early preacher Jonah. 40 Jonah was three days and three nights in the stomach of a big fish. The Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the grave also. 41 The men of the city of Nineveh will stand up with the people of this day on the day men stand before God. Those men will say these people are guilty because the men of Nineveh were sorry for their sins and turned from them when Jonah preached. And see, Someone greater than Jonah is here!

Matthew 12

Whether or not we consider this, or any story in the Bible as real,

none of us can help seeing ourselves reflected by Jonah’s words and actions.

Jonah doesn’t just run a few miles to get away from the Lord’s command to “Get up and go!,” he persuades the ship captain to accept him as passenger on their voyage to Tarshish (modern day Cadiz, Spain, a 2000 mile journey)- paying triple the normal fee for passage.During the ensuing horrific storm which terrifies all the sailers, Jonah sleeps. [recalling Christ asleep on a pillow in the midst of a temptest]Finally, Jonah confesses that the storm is in him-and is tossed into the belly of the whaleGrudgingly, he does what the Lord commands, goes to the wicked city of Ninevah and within just a day,The King and the people repent and the Lord “renounces His Judgement. He does not carry it out.”Is Jonah happy for the deliverance of the Assyrians?Quite the contrary, he’s angry and depressed.

O LORD! Isn’t this just what I said when I was still in my own country? That is why I fled beforehand to Tarshish. For I know that You are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in kindness, renouncing punishment.

4:3.Please, LORD, take my life, for I would rather die than live.”

4:4.The LORD replied, “Are you that deeply grieved?

The Book of Jonah

Consoling yet terrifying?

Well…yeah!

Think for a moment or twenty about your life, the events and people in it-especially those without whom you’d not be…you.

Were there not times you ran as fast as you could in the opposite direction? Only to find yourself back in the same place?

At first we chuckle at Jonah’s obstinance. But pondering him further, our smiles fade as we realize the reason for his stubborness: Jonah resents the “other.”

Feels them unworthy of the Gift he and the nation of Israel has. Through Jonah, the sun shines mercilessly on our Christian tendency to exclude, on our facile judgements of others and thinking the ‘other’ less deserving of the mercy of God. Of our sense of superiority and moral indignation.

“And should not I care about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not yet know their right hand from their left, and many beasts as well!”

Volumes have been written on the Hebrew prophet Jonah. One of the more famed is Father Mapple’s in Melville’s Moby Dick. Worth a quick read if only to recall Melville’s delicious prose.

Thomas Merton wrote an entire book about these four brief chapters in the Bible.

In the preface to his book, The Sign of Jonas, Merton wrote:

“The sign Jesus promised to the generation that did not understand Him was “the sign of Jonas, the prophet-that is the sign of His own Resurrection….But I feel that my life, my very being is sealed with this great sign because like Jonas himself I feel myself traveling toward my destiny in the belly of a paradox.”

In a lovely little book by Fr. Paul Murray, A Journey With Jonah, Murray includes a remark from Robert Frost. Frost’s comments embody perfectly the consolation and the terror I mentioned at the beginning of this piece. In a reply to an interviewer about his verse/poem, Masque of Mercy, Frost said:

“I noticed the first time in the world’s history when mercy is entirely the subject is in Jonah…Jonah is told to go and prophesy against the city- and he knows God will let him down. He can’t trust God to be anything but merciful. You can trust God to be anything but unmerciful. So he ran away and- got into a whale. That’s the point of that and nobody notices it. They miss it.”

Where’s the consolation?

Yes, where indeed…it hides in the cross, humility, conversion.

In the Afterword to A Journey with Jonah, Fr. Murray includes a lectio divina given by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger given in 2003. The then Cardinal Ratzinger calls his meditation on Jonah, God Took Pity. In his quintessentially scholarly piece, Pope Benedict writes that Jonah is a parable. One where the we can see both the present and the future. Because, “it is only in the light of the future- ultimately in that light from God-that the present can be understood…this parable is consequently a prophecy.”

It is a lengthy meditation and one worth reflection on in its entirety. Unfortunately I could find no link for you to read it other than in A Journey with Jonah.

The then Ratzinger exhorts “

The key words from the text are conversion…’ All shall turn from their evil ways…’conversion is not beautiful and complete [like the Jerusulem Temple] it is never finished…Day after day I must combat my laziness and habits…prejudices against my neighbor…day after day I must combat cowardice, conformism, and bullying…I must learn from the Church and let myself be led by Her….

A Journey with Jonah

Ocean sailing ship in distress, struggling to stay afloat, in a heavy storm with big waves and lightning, 3d render painting

The post In the Belly of the Whale: Jonah, The Reluctant Prophet appeared first on Lin Wilder.

Sin Is Not In My Lexicon, Dear Friend

Notepad, two pens and the word linguistics, made up of wooden cubes on a dark background. A concept for college liberal arts studies and contemporary language history studies. Focus stacking. Close-upSin is not in my lexicon, dear friend

Modern woman and her psyche

Sin is not in my lexicon, dear friend—
I do what’s good, defined my way. The end.

No sense of sin? Friend, then how do you know
the right, the wrong, the which-way-to-go?

Honey, I simply do what I think right:
I never harm, I give no spit, no fight.

Darling, how do you know your “right” is right?
Which one authority supports this might?

Authority? Why ask me that? My might
is right! My kindness clearly guides my sight.

What about consequence, sorrow, remorse?
Sacrifices, mercy, and love, full course.

Love? You fool, what are you talking about?

Oh God, you want me to believe, no doubt.

Beloved dear, I’m praying that you know,
it’s sin in lexicon that lets love show.

-Maura Harrison, 09.28.2021

Sidewalk prayers at the Abortion clinic

Had someone told me years ago that I would be one of those protesters outside Planned Parenthood, I’d have been dumbfounded. Because there was a time when I was convinced that Planned Parenthood provided an essential service. Not admitting that the essential service was abortion.

When Christian women or men approached me about their religion, my virtual reply was, “Sin is not in my lexicon, dear friend.” Said far less eloquently, however. For I embodied the “modern woman and her psyche” that my online artist friend Maura Harrison writes of.

What happened?

It’s both a long and short story. Sticking with the short version, I became a Catholic Christian. Joining those who know firsthand that it’s “sin in lexicon that lets love show.”

Now, each Thursday morning, I’m there. On the sidewalk outside the place I cannot call Planned Parenthood because it’s never been about parenthood, it’s about abortion.

On those mornings, I pray, silently. Walking up and down the sidewalk, I pray for light and Truth to unblind the greeters who seem more like guards who stand in the entrance. Silently exemplifying that sin is not in my lexicon, dear friend.

I pray for the staff arriving in their blue scrubs, the mark of 21st century health care workers securing the “reproductive health” of all women. And for the mostly lovely young women enter the doors of the abortion clinic. Sometimes with a male partner or female friend but usually alone.

Maura’s poem exquisitely frames this satanic scourge which now blackens our politics and conversations. Because it isn’t just young, frightened single women coming to terminate their preganancy. In fact, twenty-five percent of those making the decision to kill their infants are married Catholic women. Justifying that their child was unplanned, therefore abortion is the reasonable decision-one that the world applauds. Amidst consoling rhetoric of refuge and rights.

It’s a personal and private decision and “I don’t judge.”

Frequently, I hear this from others- both Christians and unbelivers when the subject of abortion raises its head. Usually preceded by “I do not believe in abortion for myself, but I refuse to judge others…”

Yes.

More loudly, YES!

The admonition is… oh so true. We are reminded why judging others is folly, a dangerous exercise, by St. Augustine in his “Sermon On Pastors.”

And I will feed them with judgment. Observe that he alone so feeds his sheep, in feeding them with judgment. For what man can judge rightly concerning another? Our whole daily life is filled with rash judgments. He of whom we had despaired is converted suddenly and becomes very good. He from whom we had anticipated a great deal suddenly fails and becomes very bad. Neither our fear nor our hope is certain.

What any man is today, that man himself scarcely knows. Still in some way he does know what he is today. What he will be tomorrow, however, he does not know. Hence the Lord, who assigns to each what is owed to him, feeds his sheep with judgment, giving some things to one group, other things to another, and to each his due. For he knows what he is doing. With judgment he feeds those whom he, being judged himself, redeemed. Therefore, he himself feeds his sheep with judgment.

On Pastors by Saint Augustine

The words of this fourth-century infamous sinner converted to saint are worth reading repeatedly. In this regard, nothing has changed in the successive centuries between us.

Daily we judge rashly.Only to learn that he from whom we’d expected great things becomes bad. And conversely that she from whom we’d expected only evil becomes good.Primarly, though, we experience our vast ignorance of ourselves.Do these facts obviate our obligation to stand up for Truth?

No.

Once again, more loudly, NO.

Our obligation as Christian men and women is to proclaim the truths of God’s created universe. And publically label evil for what it is: work of the Anti-Christ.

Is it “Christian” to remain silent while young women and men are plied with lies and euphemisms?

Are we to do nothing when our self- professed Catholic Christian leaders trumpet abortion as women’s health, justice and insist that abortion up through birth is a right?

Sister Lucia, one of the visionaries at Fatima predicted that: “a time will come when the decisive battle between the kingdom of Christ and Satan will be over marriage and the family. And those who will work for the good of the family will experience persecution and tribulation.”

It was through the writings of Cardinal Caffara, formerly head of the Pontifical Institute for the Studies on Marriage and the Family that crystallized our twenty-first century lexicon: the ennoblement of abortion and homosexuality. Sin is not in my lexicon, dear friend.

“The human story is a confrontation between two forces: the force of attraction, whose source is in the wounded Heart of the Crucified-Risen One, and the power of Satan, who does not want to be ousted from his kingdom.”

Cardinal Caffara spoke those words in a speech given four months before his death in 2017.

Speaking chillingly of Satan, the purity of his hatred for you, me and for humanity, the Cardinal’s words serve as a clarion call to each of us.

…are there developments which reveal with particular clarity the confrontation between the attraction exerted over man by the Crucified-Risen One, and the culture of the lie constructed by Satan? My response is affirmative, and there are two developments in particular.

The first development is the transformation of a crime [termed by Vatican Council II nefandum crimen], abortion, into a right. Note well. I am not speaking of abortion as an act perpetrated by one person. I am speaking of the broader legitimation which can be perpetrated by a judicial system in a single act: to subsume it into the category of the subjective right, which is an ethical category. This signifies calling what is good, evil, what is light, shadow. “When he lies, he speaks according to his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies”. This is an attempt to produce an “anti-Revelation”…

At the moment at which the right of man to order the life and the death of another man is affirmed, God is expelled from his creation, because his original presence is denied, and his original dwelling-place within creation – the human person – is desecrated.

We are no longer witnesses but deserters

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Take the Snakes Away!

many snakes intertwine lie basking in the warm rays of the sun, close-upTake the snakes away!

The reading for the September 14th celebration of the Triumph of the Cross takes us back to the nation of Israel’s escape from 400 years of slavery in Egypt to a forty-year desert journey.

Complaining.

Again. Not noticing the fact that their clothes and sandals are not wearing out. Or remembering how they walked through the sea with walls of water on each side. Or that water appears out of a rock when needed by them and their livestock.

More and more, these readings about the ancient Israelites are like looking into a mirror which reveals my image and that of almost everyone around me.

The priest celebrating that daily mass was Fr. John Farao. His first comment when he began his homily was, “Take the snakes away!” Delivered in his characteristically quiet, hushed manner of speaking, he amplified my conviction that we are not reading about ancient people, strangers from across the world.

Or about people who are alien both because of the millenia separating us and the vast difference between our cultures.

No, we are hearing about humanity today. Us.

With their patience worn out by the journey,
the people complained against God and Moses,
“Why have you brought us up from Egypt to die in this desert,
where there is no food or water?
We are disgusted with this wretched food!”

In punishment the LORD sent among the people saraph serpents,
which bit the people so that many of them died.
Then the people came to Moses and said,
“We have sinned in complaining against the LORD and you.
Pray the LORD to take the serpents from us.”
So Moses prayed for the people, and the LORD said to Moses,
“Make a saraph and mount it on a pole,
and if any who have been bitten look at it, they will live.”
Moses accordingly made a bronze serpent and mounted it on a pole,
and whenever anyone who had been bitten by a serpent 
looked at the bronze serpent, he lived.    

What is it about snakes?

A chapter in my latest novel, The Reluctant Queen- The Story of Esther, features a hideously lethal viper that nearly bites and kills Esther’s mother-in-law Queen Atossa. After the danger is over, Esther ponders the body of the dead serpent. She offers one explanation of our intrinsic abhorrence of snakes.

“I had caught up by then, and we stood looking at the strange reptile. Its tail was indeed bulbed with long drooping scales, and its head was covered with thick plates between the horns. As I stared at the hideous thing, I could think only of the serpent in Eden, relegated to crawling on its belly for the rest of time in punishment for the lies told to our first parents, Adam and Eve. God’s creature must have been dazzling to attract and persuade Eve to disobey. And what catastrophic consequences for all of His creatures, even you.“

In discussing that reading of the Israelites’ punishment by the seraph serpents , Fr. John’s next remark was, “The Lord didn’t take away the snakes.”

Instead, God instructed Moses to mount a seraph on a pole, promising that if anyone bitten by a serpent looked at the bronze serpent, he would live. If we think for more than a moment about the response of the Israelis, we’ll recall that many died from the serpent bites.

Why?

They were too stiff-necked to look up at the bronze seraph and live.

Reflecting on Fr. John’s words, I think of the countless times that I pray, “Take the snakes away!” Not in those words but because even I, a die-hard avoider of TV news, see the velocity of our devolution increasing exponentially. Or cannot close my eyes to the suffering of neighbors near and far away. The list is endless.

I get weary, impatient,

And frightened.

Looked at a caduseus lately?

The ancient image often accompanying the Hippocratic is either a single snake curling around a stake or two serpents coiled about a staff with wings. Like this one below.

statue of Hermes

The correlation between serpents and healing, is an ancient and integrated with many traditions. How can we recall the nation and people first chosen by the Lord’s constant grousing without identifying with them-hearing our own voices?

“Why have you brought us up from Egypt to die in this desert,
where there is no food or water?
We are disgusted with this wretched food!”

Our complaints, murmuring, and ingratitude?

‘Why was that tiny nation chosen?” Fr. John asks rhetorically. “What was their obligation?”

To do what?

Demonstrate to the rest of the world how good and gracious is the One God by bending our necks and knees in prayer and awe at He who created the world. And who stooped to become man.

Even- perhaps especially- when we’re worn-out and impatient from our long journeys.

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Ode to Hope: Todd Beamer, Pope John Paul and Peter

photo Atlas ObscuraOde to Hope: Todd Beamer, Pope John Paul and Peter

What could a twenty-first century computer salesman, former pope, now saint and Peter, the first pope, share?

What could men living millenia apart, varied cultures and relgious backgrounds have in common? Especially an ode to hope: Todd Beamer, Pope John Paul and Peter?

Indeed.

Do you remember Todd Beamer?

His then pregnant wife Lisa?

Here’s a hint. Todd’s last words ‘Let’s roll’ traveled the world. And now, upon reflecting on them twenty years later, we stop.

Still.

To wonder, “What would we have done?”

Todd Beamer was the thirty-two-year-old Oracle salesman, husband and father whose last thireen minutes of life was recorded in a conversation with a United Airlines employee.

William Cook of Spectator World writes that,

Todd had tried to make a credit card call

and ended up talking to a call center supervisor for the firm who handled United Airlines’ in-flight phone service. The supervisor’s name was Lisa Jefferson (Todd was struck by the strange coincidence that she shared his wife’s name). Their 13-minute conversation is a precious record of an extraordinary act of heroism, a testament to the bravery and humanity that survived that awful day.

Todd and Lisa recited the Lord’s Prayer together. They recited Psalm 23 (‘Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil’). Other passengers joined in. Todd remained remarkably calm, though his voice rose a little when the plane went into a dive. ‘Lisa, Lisa!’ he cried out. ‘I’m still here, Todd,’ replied Lisa. ‘I’ll be here as long as you are.’

Todd and a group of fellow passengers (and several flight attendants) held a council of war, and took a vote, and resolved to storm the cockpit (even faced with almost certain death, American democracy prevailed). ‘If I don’t make it, please call my family and let them know how much I love them,’ he told Lisa. The last thing she heard him say was, ‘Are you ready? OK, let’s roll.’

Todd and his fellow passengers must have known their chances of success were minuscule, but they preferred doing something to doing nothing. They preferred to go down fighting… 

The Very American Heroism

Pope John Paul’s book Crossing the Threshold of Hope was

Published in 1993, I’d seen the book numerous times, but had never read it. Until now.

Italian journalist Giovanni Paolo ll asks remarkably provocative questions of Pope John Paul ll.

Why does God tolerate suffering? How does a pope pray?

How can you-a man- be the leader of all the Catholics in the world?

Pope John Paul ll replies in prose worth meditating on. Almost every paragraph.

Here are just a few examples of why I say this.

“The words Christ uttered are repeated by the Church. And with the Church, they are repeated by the Pope. I have done so since the first homily I gave in St. Peter’s Square: “Be not afraid!” These are not words said into a void. They are profoundly rooted in the Gospel. They are simply the words of Christ Himself. Of what should we not be afraid? We should not fear the truth about ourselves. One day Peter became aware of this and with particular energy he said to Jesus: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

And two more to ponder:

Creation was given and entrusted to humankind as a duty, representing not a source of suffering but the foundation of a creative existence in the world. (italics mine). A person who believes in the essential goodness of all creation is capable of discovering all the secrets of creation, in order to perfect continually the work assigned to him by God. It must be clear for those who accept Revelation, and in particular the Gospel, that it is better to exist than not to exist.

And because of this, in the realm of the Gospel, there is no space for any nirvana, apathy, or resignation. Instead, there is a great challenge to perfect creation-be it oneself, be it the world. This essential joy of creation is, in turn, completed by the joy of salvation, by the joy of redemption. The Gospel, above all, is a great joy for the salvation of man. The Creator of man is also his Redeemer…

And last,

“Against the spirit of the world, the Church takes up anew each day a struggle that is none other than the struggle for the world’s soul. If in fact, on the one hand, the Gospel and evangelization are present in this world, on the other, there is also present a powerful anti-evangelization which is well organized and has the means to vigorously oppose the Gospel and evangelization.

The struggle for the soul of the contemporary world is at its height where the spirit of this world seems strongest. In this sense the encyclical Redemptoris Missio speaks of modern Areopagi. Today these Areopagi are the worlds of science, culture, and media; these are the worlds of writers and artists, the worlds where the intellectual elite are formed…”

Depart from me

Can anyone of us Christians resist falling in love with Peter? His many inconsistencies, flaws and passion?

A couple of weeks ago at daily mass we heard Luke’s account of Peter’s catch. Afterward, I researched the passage.

Was St. Luke really writing of their first meeting?

Why did I question it?

Well think about it for a few minutes. Apparently the Lord had been speaking alongside the water. Peter was one of many who listened. Maybe only half listening because he had been up all night. Suddenly, Jesus approaches Peter and commands him to go out again.

And Peter obeys!

“…he said to Simon, “Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.”

Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

These were experienced fishermen.

Experts.

They had been up all night and caught nothing. We can readily imagine Peter’s exhaustion and frustration at all those hours of futile work. And yet, at the words of this stranger, Peter says, ….because you say so, I will…

Why would he do this?

When they had done this,

.”..they caught such a large number of fish that their nets began to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them, and they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink.

When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!”  For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon’s partners.“

I have tried to explain to a number of my unbelieving friends that faith is not about religion, Christianity, Catholicism, it’s about a person: Jesus. One of the many reasons I ponder this gospel passage long after I heard it is the memories Peter’s reaction invokes.

My own startling, stunning drop to my knees that felt shocking…. and yet freeing. A freedom I had never imagined. Could never imagine.

I can guess at Peter’s thoughts, “Who is this?” “This is no ordinary man…?”

“Who am I that he should come to me?”

It’s hope they share, these three men. Todd Beamer, Pope John Paul ll and St. Peter.

But this hope isn’t the inert, passive, wimpy verb used commonly. As in, “I hope it doesn’t rain.”

No.

It’s the theological virtue of hope.

What does that mean? Theological virtue?

It emanates from Christ. At baptism, the virtues of hope, faith and charity are infused into our souls providing us with the armor needed to overcome fear.

The Catholic catechism describes the work and function of hope. It states: : takes up the hopes that inspire men’s activities and purifies them so as to order them to the Kingdom of heaven; it keeps man from discouragement; it sustains him during times of abandonment; it opens up his heart in expectation of eternal beatitude. Buoyed up by hope, he is preserved from selfishness and led to the happiness that flows from charity. (CCC 1818)

“Holy Father, in light of everything you have said to us… Are we to conclude that it is really worth it all “to cross the threshold of hope,” to discover that we have a Father, to rediscover that we are loved?

“After all I have said, I could summarize my response in the following paradox: In order to set contemporary man free from fear of himself, of the world, of others, of earthly powers, of oppressive systems, in order to set him free from every manifestation of a servile fear before that “prevailing force” which believers call God, it is necessary to pray fervently that he will bear and cultivate in his heart that true fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom.

This fear of God is the saving power of the Gospel. It is a constructive, never destructive, fear. It creates people who allow themselves to be led by responsibility, by responsible love. It creates holy men and women-true Christians-to whom the future of the world ultimately belongs. André Malraux was certainly right when he said that the twenty-first century would be the century of religion or it
would not be at all.

The Pope who began his papacy with the words “Be not afraid!” tries to be completely faithful to this exhortation and is always ready to be at the service of man, nations, and humanity in the spirit, of this truth of the Gospel.

Crossing the Threshold of Hope

Fish in a fishing nets

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The Devolution of Rights Into Structural Sin

Two African American nuns on Archbishop Joseph Rummel’s residence staff ignore a protester in front of the archbishop’s residence in New Orleans on April 23, 1962. (AP)The devolution of rights into structural sin.

It’s a mouthtful, I know. Certainly for me the phrase, the “devolution of rights into structural sin”, is a heady one. Until reading a piece by Jeffrey Mirus, I’d never heard of structural sin. And yet only a second or two of thought recalls the events of 9/11/01. Twenty years ago yesterday. There was no question in any heart that this was evil.

No disagreement between races or political parties or persons of the immensity and magnitude of it. Or of the nobility of those who gave their lives trying to save those of strangers.

The difference lay-and lies- in how we respond:

The fatuous route of blaming a God we don’t believe in?Engaging in blame and the futility of war?Or the honest and far more fruitful response of looking deeply into our own hearts? Seeing the darkness and our own active participation in evil?

We hear a great deal today about systemic or structural sin, such as systemic racism. And the truth is that we all participate in sin in many more or less institutionalized forms. We take certain modes of action for granted, without examining the network of institutions, beliefs and habits which underlie the results such “systems” produce. What sound Catholic would deny, for example, that contraception and abortion are systemic or structural sins today, as well as personal ones? That is an inescapable problem in life. But we also take advantage of systemic or structural sin to deflect our own personal guilt.

Structural sin is personal sin deflected and justified.

Since Mirus packs his article with several points worth pondering for more than a moment,

I read it a few times. Realizing as I did so that I’d given no thought to systematic or structural sin. At least not in those words or phrases. Now that I think of this concept, it’s become a reality which ripples outward and keeps doing so. Shedding light- at least partially- on what I see happening in our society and our institutions.

All of them.

Nor had I considered the fact that most economic, political and social institutions are unjust in some way. Of course this is so. There is no need to consider that statement for more than a moment. It’s self-evident, isn’t it? And yet, needs to be said and understood.

Presumably this is one explanation for the burgeoning love affair for socialism among our citizenry. And in the world at large.

Wholly overlooking its historic failures.

Lest we be tempted to consider ours as a as the vanguard of manipulative cultures, Mirus takes us back.

Dominant narratives of 1600 years ago.

“Man spins out a whole net of falsities around his spirit by the repeated consecration of his whole self to values that do not exist.”

St. Gregory of Nysa wrote this in the mid-third century. The italics are mine because those 1600- year- old words feel so descriptive of our current situation, do they not? And are perversely consoling.

Few of us disagree that poverty, famine, oppression are spectres which haunt humanity. And should be alleviated by individuals and cultures as much as possible. Each one of us feels the guilt of mistakes, cruelties and all the residue of human life. And we share a communal guilt as well. Those who have been blessed with education, successful careers and their accompanying success know we must give back.

The disagreement bewteen Christians and secularists lies in how we do this.

“For Christians, this sense of guilt is deliberately focused on personal sins.

While Christians may not always recognize clearly the particular forms of heartlessness and even violations of “fairness” which are endemic to the cultures of which they are a part, when they do recognize them they typically recognize that they are personally involved in the pattern and must strive to break the pattern in their own spheres of influence through deliberate changes in their own behavior. That’s how Christian guilt works. It is largely the same as with our own more obvious personal sins.

Certain evils that are protected or fostered by the larger patterns of any given culture—in our families, our socializing, our businesses, and our laws and governments—become opportunities for the recognition of our own personal failure to mitigate these evils, first through our own cultivation of missing virtue, and then through whatever influence we can bring to bear on those around us, those with whom we interact, those for whom we vote, and so on.

Yet that is most definitely not how guilt works for secularists, for it is in the nature of secularists to be in denial. Refusing to acknowledge an authentically spiritual horizon—a God who is to be worshipped, a conversion that is to bear personal fruit here and now so that the converted can be welcomed joyfully in heaven—secularists must find a different way of dealing with guilt, which is the human person’s natural response to sin. If a Christian seeks to renew himself to be worthy of the perfect society of love in heaven, the secularist seeks to transform his earthly heaven by eradicating the attitudes and influence of others whom he sees as impeding the progress of a worldly paradise.

Structural Sin is Personal Sin Deflected and Justified

All of which brings me to the exponentially increasing structural sin of abortion.

The startling image at the beginning of this article

depicts a white woman protesting in front of then Archbishop Rummels’ New Orleans residence. The two black Catholic nuns passing by ignore both the woman and her sign. It was 1962 and the Archbishop had decreed that racism- segregation- was incompatible with God’s Law. And with the teachings of the Catholic Church.

I grabbed the photograph from Archbishop Salvatore J. Cordelione’s Washington Post op ed article of last Sunday. Cordelione’s analysis of segregation as a parallel to abortion is nothing short of brilliant. Writing about another Archbishop stationed in another place where consecration to values that do not exist has been glorified, Cordelione creates a context for discussion.

And brings hope to the table in doing so.

Here is how he does it:

The example of New Orleans Archbishop Joseph Rummel, who courageously confronted the evils of racism, is one that I especially admire. Rummel did not “stay in his lane.” Unlike several other bishops throughout this country’s history, he did not prioritize keeping parishioners and the public happy above advancing racial justice. Instead, he began a long, patient campaign of moral suasion to change the opinions of pro-segregation White Catholics.

In 1948, he admitted two Black students to New Orleans’s Notre Dame Seminary. In 1951, he ordered the removal of “white” and “colored” signs from Catholic churches in the archdiocese. In a 1953 pastoral letter, he ordered an end to segregation throughout the archdiocese of New Orleans, telling White Catholics that, because their “Colored Catholic brethren share … the same spiritual life and destiny,” there could be “no further discrimination or segregation in the pews, at the Communion rail, at the confessional and in parish meetings.”

Our Duty to Challenge Catholic Politicians Who Support

“A long patient campaign of moral suasion…” When considered in the context of segregation and slavery, its history in the south and the awful cost we have no choice but to access the “better angels of our natures.”

Texas gets this right: The state is investing $100 million to help mothers by funding pregnancy centers, adoption agencies and maternity homes and providing free services including counseling, parenting help, diapers, formula and job training to mothers who want to keep their babies.

You cannot be a good Catholic and support expanding a government-approved right to kill innocent human beings. The answer to crisis pregnancies is not violence but love, for both mother and child.

This is hardly inappropriate for a pastor to say. If anything, Catholic political leaders’ response to the situation in Texas highlights the need for us to say it all the louder.

Our Duty to Challenge Catholic Politicians

Let’s keep in mind Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s comments about his horrendous treatment in the Gulag by Russian officials:

“If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?”

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We Will Never Win the Culture War Until Christians Reclaim Sunday

Crucifixion At Sunrise – Empty Tomb With Shroud – Resurrection Of Jesus ChristWe will never win the culture war until Christians reclaim Sunday.

Sunday: a day dedicated to our favorite sport, shopping, or watching movies, or…?

Or to the Lord?

“One of the saddest things I see is a sign on a business that says, ‘Open 7 days a week.'” So states Dr. Timothy O’Donnell, President of Christendom College in his three minute video, “Reclaiming the Lord’s Day.“

Emphasizing the vastness and pervasive materialism which has invaded much of the western world, O’Donnell quotes Pope John Paul. “We will never win the culture war until Christians reclaim Sunday.”

An unequivocal statement like that begs for some unpacking, doesn’t it? At least it did for me because I’d never heard of the apostolic letter, Dies Domini, that O’Donnell refers to until listening to this video.

Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.

The language of the apostolic letter is quintessentially Pope John Paul ll. By that I mean that Genesis is the starting point for this pope and now saint.

The commandment of the Decalogue by which God decrees the Sabbath observance is formulated in the Book of Exodus in a distinctive way: “Remember the Sabbath day in order to keep it holy” (20:8). And the inspired text goes on to give the reason for this, recalling as it does the work of God: “For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy” (v. 11). Before decreeing that something be done, the commandment urges that something be remembered….

Dies Domini

Covid and all its associated mandates served as a wake up call to some of us in this land of the free we call America. Abruptly, shockingly, across the world, during the last week of March, 2020, churches closed.

We know the commandments, keep them in mind, of course.

And yet the insidiousness of the culture can so easily break through. To the point where Sunday becomes like every other day. In the not very distant past, I’ve had to reassert the sacredness of Sunday by refusing to work-in my case, write- and buy on Sundays.

Does it really matter that much?

Yeah, it does. If our reverence for Sundays were not significant, why would the man admired so greatly by much of the world make that bold assertion: We will never win the culture war until Christians reclaim Sunday?

And decide to write an entire apostolic letter explaining why?

Sunday, explains Pope John Paul is the day of Christ- of light. It’s also the day of the gift of the Spirit and the day of faith. In his uniquely eloquent prose the saint expounds on these points in his apostolic letter. The entire letter warrants more than a read, filled as it is with this kind of delicious prose sufficiently evocative to attend to the way we dress when we go to church. And pay far more attention to the meaning of keeping the seventh day holy:

“On the seventh day God finished his work which he had done” (Gn 2:2).

Here too we find an anthropomorphism charged with a wealth of meaning.

…By its nature, the creative act which founds the world is unceasing and God is always at work…The divine rest of the seventh day does not allude to an inactive God, but emphasizes the fullness of what has been accomplished. It speaks, as it were, of God’s lingering before the “very good” work (Gn 1:31) which his hand has wrought, in order to cast upon it a gaze full of joyous delight.

This is a “contemplative” gaze which does not look to new accomplishments but enjoys the beauty of what has already been achieved. It is a gaze which God casts upon all things, but in a special way upon man, the crown of creation. It is a gaze which already discloses something of the nuptial shape of the relationship which God wants to establish with the creature made in his own image, by calling that creature to enter a pact of love. This is what God will gradually accomplish, in offering salvation to all humanity through the saving covenant made with Israel and fulfilled in Christ. It will be the Word Incarnate, through the eschatological gift of the Holy Spirit and the configuration of the Church as his Body and Bride, who will extend to all humanity the offer of mercy and the call of the Father’s love.

Deis Domini

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