St. John Bosco Novena

Our friends at Pray More Novenas will launch the January novena next week in honor of St. John Bosco. 

I must admit I was largely unfamiliar with this fascinating 19th century Italian saint who dedicated his life to ministering to at-risk boys.  I wish I had known about him during the years I spent as principal of an alternative school serving the same kind of boys St. John knew well.

Read a profile of St. John Bosco here and join us for the novena!

Sunday Best

Another recent First Things column by George Weigel got me thinking about what we wear to church, and now Christianity Today's Duane Liftin takes up cause with a thought-provoking piece that raises important questions about our attire on Sunday mornings.

Supporting his thoughts with rich scriptural references, Liftin notes the obvious trend toward casual dress throughout society and most noteably in church and wonders what this says about the way we prepare ourselves for worship.  If take so little thought to how we dress at church, are we also putting little thought into how we prepare our hearts and minds for the experience of encountering God?

These are things I hadn't considered until recently, and I sure don't want to start wearing a tie to church on Sunday mornings (though that's what I wore almost every Sunday as a boy), but I think Liften raises some compelling points.

There's a real problem, of course, with choosing to "dress up" for church now that casual has become the norm.  You'll stand out, almost as if you are trying to draw attention to yourself or make some holier-than-thou point.  Liften acknowledges this issue, but suggest we should shy away from the challenge on account of this issue:

We all understand that the wrong clothes can distract our fellow worshipers. Elaborate, showy attire may reflect a prideful, elitist, egocentric display of wealth, status, and power (Mark 12:38; Luke 16:19; James 2:3). Or it may serve as a mask, a facade behind which lurks a very different reality (Matt. 23:27). In this way and others our choice of clothing can be sinful. But this does not render our everyday ("common"), come-as-you-are attire "spiritual" or "honest." If we care for our fellow worshipers as we ought, we will take them into consideration as we dress for worship. We will clothe ourselves in ways that edify them and strengthen their own worship. We will attempt to avoid the nonchalant attitude that says this event is entirely routine; that it merits nothing special from me; that my only consideration in what I choose to wear is what is easiest and most convenient. Such a self-centered attitude is corrosive to a true spirit of worship. Instead, the goal in our choice of clothing should be to express to the Lord and those around us that this event matters, that I view it as a holy occasion, one which deserves our highest regard. If the first audience for our nonverbal messages is God himself, and secondarily, our fellow worshipers, dress that best suits these first two audiences may also serve a third: outsiders who join our public worship.

Liften says he does not want to prescribe a dress code for church, and I appreciate that humility.  But I'll definitely think twice before dressing for church next Sunday.

Doorways to Faith

At First Things today, George Weigel offers a meditation on the witness of converts to the Catholic faith.  Weigel catalogs an impressive litany of converts and their various intellectual contributions to the Church and culture at large.  Despite their diverse backgrounds, Weigel says these Christians were ultimately drawn to Catholicism's "symphony of truth:"

You don’t have to be an intellectual to appreciate this “symphony of truth,” however. For Catholicism is, first of all, an encounter with a person, Jesus Christ, who is “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14.6). And to meet that person is to meet the truth that makes all the other truths of our lives make sense. Indeed, the embrace of Catholic truth in full, as lives like Blessed John Henry Newman’s demonstrate, opens one up to the broadest possible range of intellectual encounters.

Viewed from outside, Catholicism can seem closed and unwelcoming. As Evelyn Waugh noted, though, it all seems so much more spacious and open from the inside. The Gothic, with its soaring vaults and buttresses and its luminous stained glass, is not a classic Catholic architectural form by accident. The full beauty of the light, however, washes over you when you come in.

I appreciate Weigel's reflections, but as a convert myself (and having talked with scores of converts over the years; we have a way of finding each other and reveling in our shared experience), I think the journey to the Church is often complicated.  I personally converted to Catholicism as a 30-year-old former Baptist-turned-Quaker-turned-Buddhist. In the beginning, I was, like Thomas Merton (whom Weigel mentions), drawn to the aesthetic dimensions of Catholic worship. I fell in love with liturgy and incense and the mystery of it all. Later, I became convinced of the intellectual, moral, and religious truth of Catholic teaching. And of late, I am finally arriving at the ultimate purpose of the Catholic faith experience: a direct, personal relationship with Jesus as Lord and Redeemer.

I guess my point is, each of these historical converts Weigel describes exemplified one of many doorways into the Catholic Church, doors all of us might pass through at some point in our faith formation.

Holy Trinity: The Tie that Binds

Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

On coming up out of the water he saw the heavens being torn open
and the Spirit, like a dove, descending upon him.
And a voice came from the heavens,
"You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased."
--Mark 1:10-11

I recently was pleased to listen to Now You Know Media's audio program on the Orthodox Church with Professor Peter Bouteneff.  My appreciation for theology was deeply enriched by this program and its emphasis on the Church Fathers and the development of Christian doctrine.  One point Bouteneff stressed was the absolute necessity of the doctrine of the Trinity for understanding the entire message of the Gospel and the coherence of Christian faith.

I recalled all this yesterday when the Church in the United States formally observed the Feast of the Epiphany and in today's celebration of the Baptism of the Lord.  During his homily yesterday, my pastor noted that the gifts of the magi had special significance: gold represented Jesus's kingship, frankincense represented his divinity, and myrrh - which was used for burial purposes - emphasized his humanity.  But as Bouteneff's lectures echoed in my heart, I saw another layer of symbolism: gold as fitting the kingship of the Father, frankincense as the wispy, breathlike Spirit, and myrrh - the Son who is God-Man.

Today, all three persons of the Trinity are fully present one of the most dramatic passages of the Gospels, when the Father tears open the heavens, pours out the Holy Spirit, and blesses his Begotten Son.  Again and again throughout the gospels, God is fully present in the interlocking mystery that is the Trinity.

Pope Benedict XVI adds an interesting twist to this feast day, however, by emphasizing that the loving intimacy shared at Jesus' baptism was not merely a dance of joy among the persons of the Trinity.  In our own baptism, which certainly occurred in time but which is ever present (as is the Trinity) each time we bless ourselves, we are invited to fully join in this eternal communion.  In fact, all of Creation joins in:

Baptism is not only a word, it is not only something spiritual but also implies matter.  All the realities of the earth are involved.  Baptism does not only concern the soul.  God's action in Jesus Christ is an action of universal efficacy.  Christ took flesh and this continues in the sacraments in which matter is taken on and becomes part of the divine action...Baptism will remain throughout life a gift of God, who has set his seal on our souls.  But it will then be our cooperation, the availability of our freedom to say "yes" which makes divine action effective.

Again and again of late I hear the Lord's gentle, loving whisper, inviting and inticing me into deeper intimacy, into a communion of bliss and perfect love that is the fulfillment and consummation of all longing.  Two feast days in a row offer an extended celebration of this love.

Beloved, here I am.  Amen.

The Way of Enchantment

Memorial Feast of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton

Today is my 41st birthday.  As I meditated this morning on the passage of time, I have to admit I am no longer a "young man," but neither am I old.  If I'm very lucky, I've reached the halfway point.  In some ways, I'm probably at the pinnacle of my health and at an extremely satisfying life point professional and personally.

I am also tremendously grateful for the spiritual graces God has bestowed on me.  Like most people, my inner world is a mess in all kinds of ways, but each day I feel some greater measure of Christ's peace in my heart.  My prayer life is more stable and gratifying.  I am able to pray for others and have greater wisdom in what to pray for and how.  I try to say this with humility because I know I'm probably one illness or tragedy away from a complete meltdown, and will probably stub my toe and unleash some fury of anger and pent-up rage later today.  That's why I'm grateful for moments when I can, through grace, have some clarity.

One bit of clarity came recently while reading an essay by R. R. Reno in First Things.  Reno was reflecting on the ancient Latin poem, On the Nature of Things, which celebrated Greek philosopher Epicurus.  Reno contrasted Epicurus' materialist worldview, which recommended a dispassionate detachment from all material things as the key to happiness (paradoxically an approach that appeals to many of today's materialist, secular, atheist thinkers) with the path of the ancient Christian fathers, especially St. Augustine. 

Augustine shared with Epicurus a sense that this life, with all its joys and beauty, was nevertheless ultimately disatisfying to the human heart.  Inner peace could not be achieved through outward attachments, acquisitions, or accomplishments.  Rather, says Reno, Augustine's path to peace was through radical attachment - to God.  Augustine's was the path of love, which Reno poetically calls "the way of enchanment:"

 "Let my bones," Augustine prays with an ardor that evokes the profound desire that suffuses the Song of Songs, "be penetrated by your love."  His prayer is answered.  After his conversion he writes, "You pierced my heart with the arrow of your love."

This divine arrow--which is a direct reference to Cupid and Venus that fuses the entire ancient pagan fascination with the enslaving power of love to the Old Testatment's nuptial vision--cures Augustine's restless, troubled soul.  "Suddenly," he writes, "it had become sweet to me to be without the sweets of folly.  What I had once feared to lose was now a delight to dismiss."  Like a fire that clears the field of weeds, the fierce heat of love burns away his distracting, dissipating worldly desires, bringing him to rest in an arresting desire to abide in Christ.  It is a paradox, but not an unfamiliar one.  The burning passion of love makes us stable, which is to say, tranquil.  Under love's enchanting spell we rest in that which we love.

This all resonated with me powerfully.  For quite some time now I've been praying for a deeper conversion of heart, but I've been framing it in terms of some kind of transformation of self that I want God to work in me.  I have prayed for greater peace, for more gratitude, for more joy, for more spontenaeity, all of which are good things, but I've been seeking these things as one might seek out a mechanic to fix one's broken car.

This is not the way of enchantment.  God calls us into relationship.  This is what I've been missing, but what I've in fact been seeking all along.  I want to grow in love, a love that is born of deep communion with Christ, in adoring and delighting in him and, in turn, allowing him to adore and delight in me.  If I grow in love, then all the other things I seek - peace, gratitude, joy - will come too, as fruits of that mutually shared and celebrated love.  This is the essence of Christian discipleship as I've come to understand it.

And so perhaps in my forty-second year, I will simply pray to fall more deeply in love with the One who first loved me.

This prayer from St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, whose feast day we observe today, speaks for my heart:

O my Lord Jesus Christ who was born for me in a stable, lived for me a life of pain and sorrow, and died for me upon a corss, say for me in the hour of my Death Father forgive, and to your Mother behold your child.  Say to me yourself this day you shall be with me in Paradise.  O my Savior, leave me not, forsake me not, I thirst for you and long for your fountain of living water -- my days pass quickly along, soon all will be consummated for me -- to your hands I commend my spirit, now and forever.  Amen.

Unite me to yourself, O adorable victim, life-giving heavenly bread, feed me, sanctify me, reign in me, transform me to yourself -- live in me, and let me live in you, let me adore you in your life-giving sacraments as my God -- listen to you as to my Master -- obey you as my King -- imitate you as my Model -- follow you as my Shepherd -- love you as my Father -- seek you as my Physician who will heal all the maladies of my soul -- indeed my way, truth, and life, sustain me O heavely manna through the desert of this world, till I shall behold you unveiled in your glory.

The Holy Name

Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus

"Kyrie Jesu Christe, Elaison...Learn it in Russian, learn it in Greek.  Say it.  Pep up your spiritual life with the Jesus Prayer in the various languages.  It's a fine prayer."
--Thomas Merton

I was happy to see this feast day on the calendar, as I've recently taken an interest in the "Jesus Prayer" that provides such an important foundation to spirituality in the Orthodox Church.  In particular, I've been reading Merton & Hesychasm: The Prayer of the Heart, and practicing the simple, repetitive prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on my a sinner."  The prayer can modified and simplified even further. A friend meditatively prays, "Jesus" on his in-breath and "Mercy" on the outbreath.  Following Merton's advice, lately I've started praying the short version in Greek, "Kyrie Jesu Christe, Elaison."

"Hesychasm" means "stillness," representing the grace of inner calm and peace that often flows into the heart of one who perpetually invokes the name of Jesus.  This prayer is based on the notion that the name of the Lord, when called upon in faith, has the potential through grace to unleash enormous power in into the world both visible and invisible.  Orthodox Bishop Kallistos Ware explains:

The invocation of the divine Name possesses a sacramental character, serving as an efficacious sign of His invisible presence and action.  For the believing Christian today, as in apostolic times, the Name of Jesus is power.

While we typically associated the Jesus prayer with the Eastern Christian tradition, devotion to the Name has a long-standing importance in the Christian West as well.  Abbot Elias Dietz of the Abbey of Gethsemani reminded monks of St. Bernard's thoughts on the holy name during his chapter talk last weekend:

"O blessed name, oil poured out without limit. From heaven it pours down on Judea and from there over all the earth, so that round the whole world the Church proclaims: “Your name is oil poured out.” And what an outpouring? It not only bathes the heavens and the earth, it even bedews the underworld, so that all beings in the heavens, on earth and in the underworld should bend the knee in the name of Jesus. . ." (CS 15.4; CF 4:108)

As he goes on to say, the name of Jesus is both precious and cheap: precious for the depth of mystery and wealth of mercy it contains, cheap, because it is so accessible to us, even when we are at our weakest and worst:

"Hidden as in a vase, in this name of Jesus, you, my soul, possess a salutary remedy against which no spiritual illness will be proof. Carry it always close to your heart, always in your hand, and so ensure that all your affections, all your actions, are directed to Jesus. . . . The name of Jesus furnishes the power to correct your evil actions, to supply what is wanting to imperfect ones; in this name your affections find a guard against corruption, or if corrupted, a power that will make them whole again." (SC 15.7: CF 4:111)

The name of Christ is so accessible to us that we are free to use it in reference to ourselves:

"Made a sharer in the name, I share too in its inheritance. For I am a Christian, Christ’s own brother. If I am what I say, I am the heir of God, co-heir with Christ." (CS 15.4).

This is heavy - and beautiful -- stuff.  In my own prayer practice, I have often invoked the Jesus Prayer in times of panic and despair, or when I could not muster any other words.  But as I practice this prayer on a more regular basis - driving the car, walking to the office, waiting in line at the grocery - times of ordinary life, it becomes more like breathing.  And while I may not yet perceive Christ's presence with the clarity of St. Bernard, I feel a measure of hesychia - of stillness - that is his grace.

Kyrie Jesu Christe, Elaison!

Mary, Mother of Mystics

Feast of Sts. Basil and Great and Gregory Nazianzen

Yesterday was, besides the first day of a new calendar year, the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.  Auspiciously, I received a new audio program as a Christmas gift, Ten Christians Mystics and What They Tell Us of God, with Father Murray Bodo, OFM, which I began listening to today.  Fr. Bodo begins his list of ten personally favorite mystics with Mary herself, whom he calls the "Mother of Mystics."  I had never considered Mary this way, and appreciated his insights.

In his introduction, Fr. Bodo explains what's significant about mystics: they reveal to us that mystery of Christ's love that is ever flowing into our lives as a present, life transforming reality, not just an historic event of the past.  Scripture is certainly the revelation of God's relationship with man, but it's easy for Christians to conclude that it's a story the primarily takes place in the past.  The mystics reveal how God is working in our very lives, and by their willingness to hear God's call and respond, they also reveal how us ordinary Christians might live more faithful, Christ-filled lives.

[Mystics] prove to us that God continues to communicate with us in our own time, that God continues to love us, and to cherish us a mother cherishes her own child. We see, too, that like Mary we all can be Christ-bearers. St. Francis of Assisi states this truth beautifully when he writes: "We are God‟s bride when our faithful soul is united with Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit; we are his brothers and sisters when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven, and w are mother to him when we carry him in our hearts and souls through love and a pure and sincere conscience, and give him birth by doing good."

In this way, Mary is the ultimate mystic.  God reached out to this girl who had no way to anticipate her vocation and purpose in life, and responded to his invitation with an unequivocal "yes!"

The life of Mary is a template one could place over every mystic: an Annunciation of the Spirit, a giving birth to God, a sense of the Incarnate God‟s presence, and following the life of the God who is human, from Nazareth to Calvary to his Resurrection and Ascension to the return of the Spirit at Pentecost. And all the time in between is Ordinary Time, in which one incarnates God in one‟s own daily life, nurturing God and sharing God with others. The whole journey is summed up in Mary‟s words, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word" (Luke 1:38).

Fr. Bodo makes it clear that not all of us will be graced with mystical experiences, but all of us will face challenging calls that will mirror Mary's life and faith-filled responses.  In this way, she is not simply Mother of the mystics, but Mother of us All.

Blessed Mother, you grace us with your perpetual prayers of intercession.  Pray that God will bless us with listening hearts that we might hear God's call and respond with some portion of your own loving faith.  Amen.