CONFIDENCE IN JESUS

DON'T THROW AWAY YOUR CONFIDENCE IN JESUS

Hebrews 10:35-39

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. For, 'In just a little while, he who is coming will come and will not delay.' And, 'But my righteous one will live by faith. And I take no pleasure in the one who shrinks back.' But we do not belong to those who shrink back and are destroyed, but to those who have faith and are saved. (NIVUK)

Persevere confidently. Those thoughts run through this section (Hebrews 10:19-39) as an appeal to discouraged and pressurised believers. Their implied question was, 'Is it all worth it?' The writer replies, 'Yes!' God sees your faith and will reward you, but it is not immediate (James 1:4). We wait until Jesus comes again. In the waiting time, trust Him. In the hard and dark times, keep trusting Him. When He appears, He will give you what He has promised if you persevere (James 5:8). In any relationship, consistency is a prized attribute. So it is with God. We come to Him on His terms, by His grace and for His purpose. He is not just a temporary rescue service to make us feel better until we can manage by ourselves again. Nor is He standing by to admire what we do. He is God, and we must live according to what He loves and hates, and not by our personal preferences and ego-centric desires. The issues are not settled in our lifetime, but will await the return of Jesus Christ. So if we are serious about our faith, we will persevere in doing right and keep trusting Him to guard us as well as guide. But what about those who do not persevere, who start well and give up? Those who no longer have any expectation of the Return of Christ to vindicate the righteous? The writer first uses Habakkuk 2:3-4 with Isaiah 26:20 to affirm that the Lord is coming back and will not delay. Then he says that the Lord will not take any pleasure in the apostate, however keen their early enthusiasm. He concludes with implying that eternal destruction awaits all who have knowingly turned their backs towards the Lord Jesus. However he does not want to condemn, but to encourage the weak and fainthearted to keep trusting the Lord, who has loved them and died to save them (James 1:12). Endurance does not come easily, not is it fully achieved quickly. If something disturbs us, we shy away from it. If we have been hurt once, we do not want to be hurt again. So perseverance is not an emotional response to what pleases us, but a decision of our wills to face what we do not like for the sake of the One we love. That is how parents choose to exhaust their energy to care for difficult or sick children, or their own parents. They do not like the process and self-denial involved; but they do it because they love. It is the same for those who love Jesus (1 Corinthians 13:4-7). His presence in their lives may lead to all kinds of unwanted challenges. But it is better to have Him, than be without Him – because of the relationship bond. If you are feeling like giving up, stop and ponder His love to You and ask Him to give you the confidence to persevere (Hebrews 12:1).

Lord God. Thank You for loving me. But I am ashamed when I think of the times when I have not stayed true to You or have wanted to stop following Jesus because it has been too hard. Help me to understand what He went through for me and help me to trust that He will never abandon me; and that He will return for me one day. Please give me that confidence in my heart so that I can make the tough decisions with my will. In Jesus' Name. Amen.

THREE STAGES OF SPIRITUAL LFE

The Three Ages of the Interior Life: History and Liturgy

The desire to be holy is natural to us.  But the pursuit of holiness should be reasonable, compatible with human nature and open to the ineffable mysteries of God.  Christianity extends over the entire history of the human race and in so doing not only reveals the eternal love of God but the dignity and the sanctification of history as well.

Our individual return to God must be understood within the context of the spiritual journey of the entire People of God in history. In our lonely spiritual battles, we participate in the same spiritual struggles of our forefathers, and we can look to their example for guidance.

The spiritual classic The Three Ages of the Interior Life by Father Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. provides a roadmap for our struggle and quest, we enter into communion with Him.

The first age is the “Purgative Way,” where we in prayer identify our sins against God and repent of them.  The second age is the “Illuminative Way,” when we contemplate God’s self-revelation and apply the truths of faith to ourselves. The third age is the “Unitive Way,” the pinnacle of holiness where we enter into communion with God.

But the Three Ages are not only stages of personal prayer.  They describe distinct communal and historical dimensions. Examining the Three Ages, in outline form, can help us enter into the mystery of God’s revelation over the entire expanse of history.

The essential message of the Old Testament is the first tenet of the Decalogue:  “You shall have no other gods before me.” (Ex. 20:3) In preparation for the Redeemer, it was necessary to purify the Chosen People of all false worship, setting them apart from every other nation.  The history of the Old Testament is a history of God’s fidelity to His people, the worship of the One God, with repeated relapses into false worship. The preaching of the John Baptist sums up the essential “Purgative Way” of the Old Testament in a single sentence: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” (Mt. 3:2, NAB)

In the “fullness of time,” Jesus Christ, the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, is born into the world.  He is God’s Word made flesh (John 1: 14) and “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.” (Col. 1:15)  For He is “the way and the truth and the life” and “no one comes to the Father” except through Him. (John 14:6) The Person and teachings of Christ represent the “Illuminative Way” in our return to God.

Jesus wants us to be holy, to be in communion with Him. “For this is why the Word became man, and the Son of God became the Son of man: so that man, by entering into communion with the Word and thus receiving divine sonship, might become a son of God.” (St. Irenaeus)  “The only-begotten Son of God, wanting to make us sharers in his divinity, assumed our nature, so that he, made man, might make men gods.” (Saint Thomas Aquinas)

Holiness is our destiny ordained by God.

The Church is the Sacrament of Christ, and His instrument of this communion.  On Pentecost – upon the Descent of the Holy Spirit – the Church was born. Through the Holy Spirit, Mary and the disciples are definitively incorporated into the Mystical Body of Christ. This mysterious communion is truly the “Unitive Way.” Through the Church and her Sacraments, we intimately encounter the risen Lord and deepen our communion with Him.

But the Three Ages apply not only to us individually and as a people in history; they can help us understand the purpose and structure of the Mass. Indeed, the Mass can be said to be a mysterious “microcosm” of all salvation history (although the Mass is really quite the opposite, ushering us into eternity!).

The Mass is not only the unbloody re-presentation of Cross and Resurrection; the entire history of salvation is re-presented with every liturgical event. Hence we can expect the liturgy to reflect the Three Ages: the Old Testament Purgative Way, illumination of the teachings of Christ, and ultimate union with Him through the Church.

The “Purgative Way” is in the Penitential Rite where we place ourselves in the presence of God, express sorrow and repent of our sins: “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.”

We move directly to the Illuminative Way, the readings of the Liturgy of the Word, where God reveals Himself through Scriptures and where the priest explains and applies the Word of God to our lives, as we ponder His revelation.

The Liturgy of the Eucharist is indeed the “Unitive Way.” We stand at the foot of the Cross during the Consecration and conclude with our encounter with the Resurrected Christ in Holy Communion, the Real Presence of Jesus under the appearance of mere bread and wine.

The Three Ages encompass the entire history of man.  And the sacred liturgy represents the Three Ages for our sanctification in communion with one another.  Our quest for holiness, therefore, must include a love for Scriptures and the Sacraments – and a true love of the history of salvation represented at Mass.  After all “with the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day.”  (2 Peter 3:8 NAB)

Even the distractions are part of the worship.  There are countless precedents for every naughty kid and bad homily in the history of the People of God.

So for purposes of holiness, it’s worth paying close attention to every one of the words and actions of the Mass.

2017 

PASSION PLAY

                                                    PASSION PLAY 

                                                                                                   

The Catholic Association of Bengal (CAB) revived a revered old tradition (reminiscent of the days of Frs. Weaver and Peter Gomes) by staging a Passion Play on Sunday 13^th. April in St. Xavier’s auditorium. The charismatic kerygma was unmistakeable under the intricate direction of Robert Dequadros who provided the commentary as filler with appropriate and perfectly timed background music. The haunting depth of Maurice Menezes’ rendition of “Via Dolorosa” surrounded the heart-rending scene of the way of the cross, punctuated by the lachrymose wailing of the women of Jerusalem. The opening scene of miraculous healings summarised the malaise of today’s world: blindness and anxiety. Michelle Selwyn was a natural in bringing out the maternal pathos that was surely Mary’s in her hour of sorrow. The flashy governor Pilate, played by the dashing Christen D’Cunha who swung his lines with panache in an otherwise sedately moving plot, portrayed political power dogged by ambiguity. He was almost rivalled by Satan (John Jacques, doubling as Barabbas) whose enticing antics around the agonising Jesus in Gethsemane offered some comic relief. To ensure that the Paschal Mystery was present to all people everywhere, the players processed along the aisles at different points of their act; the audience responded with affection.

Foot washing to paschal meal to trial and crucifixion were swept up into the grand narrative of God’s salvific action centred in his Son, Jesus Christ, whose role has been reproduced by thousands of actors down the centuries. This time it was the turn of Shelton Pyster. He accepted the challenge of rendering the Transcendent Lord on the stage, expressing himself with courage, clarity and serenity in a voice timbre that was not intimidating. It was amazing how he maintained corporal stillness after the “death” on the cross for such a length of time. This was perhaps the first time that the body of the Lord was shown being taken down from the cross, wrapped in a white shroud and borne away for burial.  The play lasted a trifle less than two hours, not counting the introductory formalities, but it succeeded in conveying its message of healing and hope. Members of the audience must surely have been deeply moved, some even tearfully, and the feeling of being restored may well have been resumed in the beautiful Rian Selwyn’s exquisite aria, “He made me whole.”

                                                 Reviewed by Fr. Mervyn Carapiet

                                                    

SACRED HEART AND OURS

Conforming Our Hearts to the Sacred Heart of Jesus

“Lord, open my lips and my mouth will proclaim your praise.” (Psalm 51:15)

The Sacred Heart of Jesus is a glimpse into the heart of God because Jesus taught us that when we see Him, we see the Father. The veil is pulled aside, and when we gaze upon the Sacred Heart of Jesus which bears the marks of the passion and inflamed with the love of God, we glimpse the heart of the Father for His children. And now, after the Ascension, Jesus stands at the right hand of the Father, eternally interceding on our behalf.

Before the hour of Christ’s passion, the hour of His glory, Christ prayed to the Father on our behalf. In this prayer, we glimpse His eternal prayer of intercession for us. We hear the conversation between the Son and the Father, and they are speaking about His disciples, about us: “I revealed your name to those whom you gave me out of the world. They belonged to you, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you gave to me I have given to them, and they accepted them and truly understood that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me. I pray for them” (John 17: 6-9).

Christ is speaking of His disciples—those who always stood by Him, always kept His word. They accepted and understood everything He taught them… at this moment, those of us who are familiar with Scripture may stop and think—wait, which disciples is Jesus talking about? Could he possibly be speaking of those whom he repeatedly called “men of little faith” (Mt 8:26, Mt 14:31, Lk 8:25)?  In the gospels, He is continually challenging His apostles, who did not understand, and who were constantly missing His point. They misinterpreted His words, thinking only on a natural level. When His disciples began to argue over which of them was the best, Jesus “perceived the thoughts of their hearts” (Luke 9:47). And when He was entering into His darkest hour, Peter swore to follow Him, even unto death. But Jesus knew that Peter would deny Him three times, and that rest of them would scatter (Lk 22:33-34). Even after His resurrection, His disciples still did not recognize Him (Lk 24:16). They continued doubting, their hearts were troubled, and full of questions (Lk 24:38). They wanted to follow Him, but they were utterly human, weak and slow to understand. “Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me?” He asked Philip (Jn 14). Perhaps He could ask each of us the same question.

Indeed, the entire history of salvation, every page of scripture, is saturated with the faithfulness of God in the face of a capricious, covenant-breaking people. God pledges His faithful love, and His people turn away, seeking themselves and other gods, again and again. And Christ, before He enters into His passion, drawing near to Jerusalem, sees in one sweep this divine unrequited love story, and weeps.

This certainly does not sound like disciples who have always kept His word, who have accepted and understood everything He taught them. Yet, Christ prays for them. We can understand their brokenness. We who are striving to follow after Jesus have begun to see our weakness, and recognize in ourselves in the words, “Oh, you of little faith.” Perhaps we would expect His prayer to sound something more like “Father, even though they have failed over and over, even though they have not understood, even though they have not responded to your grace, I pray for them.” Yet, both for the Apostles, as for us, Christ’s eternal prayer before the Father is not an eternal apology for our behavior, minimizing our weakness. Instead we glimpse, through the Sacred Heart of Jesus, that the reality of the Resurrection is a power infinitely able to transform us.

We are weak, and we fail, and fall, and misunderstand Him, again and again. But Christ is strong; He is our strength, and He has triumphed over sin and hell by His own death and resurrection. He does not just cover us with His strength—as if we were Luther’s dung heap covered in snow. The transformation of Christ is real, and it changes every fiber of our being. His victory is not a deletion of our sins, like our library fines being cancelled. His victory is an invitation to a total transformation.  Christ died so that we can be transformed on ever deeper levels than we can dream. We are transformed by His faithfulness, trust, and obedience to the Father, and when we come into contact with this Divine Life, we are changed. We are weak and sinful, but if we are willing to place even our weakness and sin into His hands, it is transformed, so that by His own Goodness, by His own victory, He can truly pray to the Father: “They have kept your word… they have truly understood and accepted… they have believed. I pray for them.” And slowly, little by little, our lives begin to conform to the reality of our identity in Him.

The Sacred Heart of Jesus proclaims the triumph of the resurrection. Still bearing the wounds of the passion, and eternally inflamed with love, the Sacred Heart of Jesus eternally declares the transformative power of God. By His Goodness, we are changed. By His Wholeness, we are made whole. By His Love, we are transformed, and our hearts become more and more conformed to His Sacred Heart.

PRECIOUS BLOOD DEVOTION

Greater reception of Communion under both kinds is weakening, not strengthening, our appreciation of the Precious Blood

Since the 16th Century, the Church has assigned different devotions to different months. Most Catholics still know that May is dedicated to Our Lady, October to the holy rosary and November to the Holy Souls. Perhaps less well known is that July is traditionally devoted to the Precious Blood. There used to be a feast of the Precious Blood on July 1, established by Pope Pius IX in 1849.

Does it matter? I think in an age and in a country where Holy Communion under both kinds is routinely administered it matters greatly, and we need to promote greater devotion to the Precious Blood.

My own pastoral experience leads me to the heartsore conclusion that, due to inadequate catechesis, the practice of routinely administering Holy Communion under both kinds may paradoxically weaken devotion to the Precious Blood. I hear huge numbers of the faithful refer to receiving “the wine” at Communion. During the swine flu scare a few years ago I found pinned to the doors of a Jesuit church posters explaining that, for reasons of health, “There will be no wine available at Communion” for the next few months.

This hardly constitutes the “worship of latria” owed to the sacramental reality of Christ’s Blood, referred to by Pope John XXIII in his 1960 apostolic letter Inde a Primis. To say so is not a judgment on those responsible (with the possible exception of the clergy at the aforementioned church who really should know better). But it ought to give rise to concern and action.

St John XXIII’s exhortation was, in part, the fruit of his own great devotion to the Precious Blood. He urges the faithful to cultivate the same devotion, explaining that veneration of the Blood of the new and eternal covenant “achieves its normal fulfilment united with Christ’s Eucharistic body”. Therefore “the faithful can make the sentiments of the priest their own: ‘I will take the chalice of salvation and call upon the name of the Lord’.” All this, though they only receive under one kind.

The General Instruction of the latest edition of the Roman Missal implies that the Council of Trent rejected calls for Communion under both kinds because of the historical context: “a difficult period when Catholic faith in the sacrificial nature of the Mass, the ministerial priesthood, and the real and permanent presence of Christ under the Eucharistic species were placed at risk”.

It is at least debatable as to whether some of the aforementioned difficulties apply today, but the General Instruction goes on to explain the circumstances which make the administering of the chalice possible: “No one today calls into doubt in any way the doctrinal principles on the complete efficacy of Eucharistic Communion under the species of bread alone.” Again, I am afraid that my pastoral experience over the past 18 years often contradicts that statement.

Indeed, it could be argued that the widespread introduction of Communion under both kinds at every Mass – not something mandated or envisaged by the Second Vatican Council – has created the very problem which negates its desirability, the danger which Trent identified in the practice of the reformers. That is, the risk that, without systematic and rigorous catechetical formation preceding it, once you have habituated people to receiving from the chalice at every Mass, you also habituate them to the idea that they do not fully receive Communion if they don’t. It’s a pastoral conundrum as to how you can affirm the doctrinal principle of the complete efficacy of Communion under one kind only by always administering it under two.

My own experience forces me to question whether Communion under both kinds always leads to a “new appreciation” of the sign-value of receiving the Precious Blood separately. The sign-value of an altar covered in liturgical hardware – jugs of wine or chalices on butlers’ trays – speaks more to me of catering than of sacrifice.

I speak under correction. This is just opinion, but motivated by a desire for the Church’s good. Christ’s Blood is the efficacious sign of his unlimited love poured out for us. As St John XXIII says: “Such surpassing love suggests, nay demands, that everyone reborn in the torrents of that Blood adore it with grateful love.”

BUILDING YOUR MARRIAGE: SOME THOUGHTS FROM ST. PAUL

Building Your Marriage: Some thoughts from St. Paul

These verses of Scripture from St. Paul are commonly used in Christian marriage ceremonies. They speak of the relationship between a husband and his wife. As beautiful as they are, they are also very misunderstood and misinterpreted. Look closely and see their wisdom for your marriage. In Ephesians 5,21 to 33 Paul writes:

“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savour. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.

“In the same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church – for we are members of his body. For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. This is profound mystery, but I am talking about Christ and the church. However, each one of you also must love his wife as her loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.”

Comment              There are four important points here. First, Christ loves us so much that he wants to marry us. He call us his bride, and he uses marriage as a picture of his relationship to the church and to each one of us as his followers. He personally washes his church. Second, there is the “S” word – submission. Submission does not imply inferiority. God made Eve out of the side of Adam, to be bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh – his equal – his companion. To say that submission somehow implies inferiority is to say that Jesus, when he submitted to the Father, was somehow inferior to the Father. Submission does not imply inferiority in any way. It is a voluntary reliance on another in perfect trust. In fact, the Apostle Paul says that we are all to submit to each other. Wives to submit to husbands, husbands to wives, and both to Christ.

Third, husbands are to be the leaders of the family, the pastors at home. And men are to love their wives as Christ loves the church, and even died for her.

And finally, just as Jesus prepares his bride, the church, for the day when she will be presented in heaven, without spot or wrinkle, so husbands, as leaders, as to prepare their wives to stand before God one day. Leadership at home is primarily a spiritual responsibility.

the conjugal love of Christian spouses is one of the specifics of the divine salvific reality. That is, marriage is the specific venue of the reconciling ministry of Christ. Christian marriage is inserted into the sphere of redemption. The fundamental economy of Christianity, the fruitful unity of Christ and his church is realised anew in every Christian marriage. Since a symbol not only points to but also effects (brings about) the reality, we may say that Christ, as it were, is waiting for Christian spouses to love one another in order that through them he could express his love for the church. Christ is “enabled” by spousal love to act upon the world. By their love, married partners place the sign of Christ’s love for the church. Christian marriage is the specific venue of Christ’s action of restoring harmony in the world and creation.

THAT VITAL ANALOGY OF BEING

That Vital Analogy of Being

THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 2017

It’s the little things in the ritual that often strike me during the celebration of the Mass each day. One of those little things that focus my attention is that little drop of water that is commingled with the wine in the chalice at the offertory. Every time I perform that ritual act, it reminds me of two things.

First, that each of us is like a small drop of being that has been inserted into the infinite being of God, like the tiniest of creatures swimming in a boundless ocean that supports our very existence. Of course, like all analogies related to God, the differences are much greater than the likenesses. For instance, the ocean did not create the fish that swim in it, even if it provides their sustenance. God both creates us and sustains our being as we live and move and have our being in God and from God, as Paul taught the Athenian philosophers.

While there is a vast, vast difference quantitatively between the tiniest of sea creatures and the ocean itself, however, one cannot really speak of a quantitative difference between our being and God’s being. The notion of quantity simply doesn’t apply here. That’s exactly what we mean by speaking of the analogy of being with reference to God and ourselves.

The very word applies only analogously to creatures with reference to God. Certainly, there is a likeness or there would be no analogy at all. But God’s being is so transcendent to our own, so utterly unique, that we can barely speak of it at all. And yet that tiny likeness, the almost nothingness of our own being in comparison, is still the basis of the true dignity that belongs to all creatures, and above all to those creatures who have been made in his very image and likeness. If we abandon that analogy, all is truly lost.

Clinging to this analogy has been a difficult task for Christian philosophers and theologians through the ages. It can easily be denied or distorted. One way in which it has been misunderstood or denied historically is to think of that little fish as not simply swimming in the ocean of being, but of being absorbed in the ocean, of having no real being of its own but simply being one reality with the ocean itself.

This is the tendency of the mysticism of the East, where man is destined to be or become undifferentiated from the whole of being, the mystery of pantheism. It’s really quite beautiful in its way, but in the end it strips the individual being of any real dignity, including God Himself. That erroneous natural theology is still with us in a large part of the world.

Another denial of the analogy is prevalent today in much of our Western world, including, according to Hillaire Belloc, the last of the great Christian heresies, in the form of Islam. Our post-Christian Western civilization has deliberately suppressed the analogy of being and replaced it with a univocal notion of being that makes it all but impossible to believe in God. If all being is univocal, and thus reduced to our kind of being, then the transcendent God of classical theism simply cannot exist. That’s the conclusion of much of Western philosophy today, and it has radically transformed our society and culture.

And then there’s the other rejection of the analogy of being found in the second largest religion in the world, Islam, which may be the largest religion in the not-too-distant future. Islam stresses the utter discontinuity of being, the absolute otherness of God.

This can be understood as an equivocal notion of being, though I doubt that many Islamic scholars have thought deeply about the question. Such considerations disappeared with the destruction of the great Islamic institutions of higher learning at the hands of their own extremists in the late Middle Ages, men who saw an absolute dichotomy between faith and reason. That dichotomy is itself a result of an equivocal notion of being.

It’s hard to say which of these two denials of the analogy of being, the univocal version or the equivocal version do the most damage. In both cases, there’s a tremendous cost in terms of the denigration of human dignity and devaluing of the individual person.

In the West, it has resulted in the relentless termination of the lives of millions of innocent human beings in the womb, and that story is far from ending. First it was the dignity and value of the individual unborn child that was compromised. Now we are moving on to the denial of the value and dignity of the individual life of the aged, or the handicapped, or whatever person who poses a burden for another individual or for society as a whole.

The resurgence of a militant form of Islam likewise poses a very serious threat in the Western world, in which only those who totally submit to the absolute will of Allah, as dictated through the sacred books of Islam, are afforded the “dignity” of a safe space, of no longer being subject to being killed for the glory of Allah. It’s really not much of a dignity in comparison to the notion of human dignity developed in the Western Christian tradition. Man is really nothing in himself in comparison to the absolute being of God.

Today we Catholics and other believing Christians find ourselves living between the bookends of these two great denials of that all-important notion of the analogy of being developed by St. Thomas and other great theologians of the Middle Ages. And more precisely we are caught in between these two forms of the equivocal notion of being in our own Western world, radical godless individualism and radical voluntaristic theism. Ideas truly do have consequences of the most serious and practical kind. And this does not bode well for our future.