QOTD – Things of the heart

Quote of the Day calls for a rare second post of the day.

From The Tablet, where Robert Mickens writes about Pope Francis’ visit to a detention facility for Holy Thursday:

A young man who spoke on behalf of the residents said, “We only want to know one thing: why did the pope want to come visit us?” Pope Francis said it was a “sentiment of his heart” and something that would help him “more to be humble”. Then he added: “Things of the heart have no explanation!”

“Things of the heart have no explanation!” How true is that?

Vulgarem panem, sacri panis – ordinary bread, sacred bread

Oh, those special, special dishes, the fine china. You know, the kind that only comes out on special occasions, right? If you happen to own some Royal Copenhagen china, you know about the special.  You see, this Royal Copenhagen Flora Danica is the world’s most expensive china, with one place setting costing almost $7000! If I had that china, I would be afraid to touch it, let alone use it!

I had the privilege of meeting Greg Boyle in LA, October 2010.

Recently I heard Gregory Boyle SJ, a Jesuit priest renown for his work with gang members in Los Angeles at Homeboy Industries; he was being interviewed by Krista Tippett  for her radio program, On Being. (Here is a link to the page for that program and the podcast.) Fr. Greg was talking about some of his “homies,” as he calls them, having a meal together. Seven former gang rivals, sitting around a one kitchen, watching a turkey cook on Christmas (yes, I know – wrong holiday!), that they could share. And you can be assured that there was no Flora Danica in that household! Who knows, they might have eaten off of mismatched cheap dishes, or even paper plates. Yet, the meal they shared was very sacred.

This absurd pairing of opposites such as $7000 for one place setting, and a bunch of reformed gang members eating turkey together, reminded me of what we are doing as we celebrate the Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday. The sacred or sacri, and the ordinary, or vulgarem. Just hearing the Latin word for ordinary makes me recoil. But why? Are sacred and ordinary simply opposites that are mutually exclusive?

I was thinking about this most precious of all meals, the most special, and the most sacred meal of the sacri panis, or sacred bread that is the Body of Christ that we partake of at Eucharist. Something else that Fr. Boyle said was on my mind as I pondered. He was discussing that turkey dinner when he said:

“… I think we’re afraid of the incarnation and part of it, the fear that drives us is that we have to have our sacred in a certain way. It has to be gold-plated and cost of millions and cast of thousands or something, I don’t know. So we’ve wrestled the cup out of Jesus’ hand and we’ve replaced it with a chalice because who doesn’t know that a chalice is more sacred than a cup, never mind that Jesus didn’t use a chalice?

…

So what could be more sacred than seven orphans, enemies, rivals, sitting in a kitchen waiting for a turkey to be done? Jesus doesn’t lose any sleep that we will forget that the Eucharist is sacred. He is anxious that we might forget that it’s ordinary, that it’s a meal shared among friends. And that’s the incarnation, I think.”

I’m not sure if Jesus loses any sleep or not, and I do believe that the Eucharist is absolutely sacred. And I also believe that if we decouple the sacred from the ordinary entirely, what we end up with is Flora Danica china, to be used, if we are rich enough to have it, maybe once a year.

What we find in this mass that recalls the institution of the Eucharist, is something supremely sacred… and remarkably ordinary. In John’s Gospel that we hear on Thursday night, we hear about a Jesus who knew that things were going to happen. He was aware. Jesus, fully divine.

What we also find is tying a towel around his waist, and bending low to wash the feet of his disciples. He was aware. Jesus, fully divine, but also at this moment, fully human.

Sacri. Vulgarem. Sacred. Ordinary.

At the end of the footwashing, when Jesus is dressed again, and reclining at table, he reminds the apostles that:

“Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet,
you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow,
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

So what are we to do? Fall down to worship Jesus? Remember his holiness and his might and power? Or do we serve him by serving others?

Perhaps it is important to pause here and consider three things…

First of all, let us consider Jesus as sacred. Lord of Lord, King of Kings. He is our everything, our Alpha and our Omega. He is the Lord on High, without equal, Jesus Christ is God. And God is very sacred.

When we think of God, of Jesus, as our King, however, we might we well reminded that this is not the kingship of any earthly monarchy, as we know it, but something new and different. Our reverence to God is essential; how we express that may not be the same cowering homage that earthly monarchs demand.

Power can be wielded as a force that cripples, or as a force that serves. In the case of Jesus, with his towel around his waist, this force is powerful; it is love in action.
What is the Eucharist if not love in action?

Two – we might want to spend some time with ordinary Jesus. This Lord and King who gets down on his hands and knees to wash our filthy feet. At this time, he is a man, and a most remarkable one. He comes to clean our feet.

Have you ever had your feet washed on Holy Thursday? This is no trip to the manicure/pedicure salon, I can assure you. While it can be a very nice thing, the pedicure is very ordinary – or vulgarem. Foot washing on Holy Thursday is the opposite – it is sacred.

I can recall many instances of getting my feet washed on Holy Thursday where I felt uncomfortable and disarmed in ways I still have trouble describing. It brought to mind memories to mind of extravagant gifts of kindness received from others. The kind of gifts that on the surface prompt us to want to “make good,” and repay in some fashion.

Yet, our fully human Jesus, who has offered this gift, asks us to mirror both his humanity and divinity, by not simply returning it to him as obsequious homage, but by living in the same way. Jesus is not looking for ordinary – or vulgarem – repayment.

Third, we are offered chance to reflect on how lopsided our love of Christ can be; too focused on service alone, and not enough intimate contact with Jesus. Conversely we can spend too much time on our knees and not enough time being kind to one another.
How do we respond, living in the holy tension of service and love, love and service? If we do not worship Christ in our hearts, if we do not receive him in the Sacred Bread that is Eucharist, how are we fed for the journey?

It is this mix of sacred and ordinary, contemplative and active, the reception of gift balanced by the giving of gift, which is the challenge of this night -and of our Christian lives. Referring back to what I said above about repayment, Jesus is not seeking this. No, we are to be transformed in a most sacred manner, and then to go transform others, as we are continually retransformed ourselves.

This bread that we eat, this ordinary bread or vulgarem panem, sacred bread or sacri panem. It is in the intersection of sacred and ordinary that we meet Christ our Lord – and one another. This blog is called “there will be bread,” for a reason… a very important reason.

Please, let us eat together, living in love and service, in ways that are completely ordinary, and always very sacred. Sacred and ordinary are not mutually exclusive, but that are all about mutuality, as Jesus models for us.

Please, let us eat together, not just on this special and sacred night, but for every ordinary day, sharing our vulgarem panem, our sacri panis, and our lives.

Jerusalem, our destiny

We had our Hosannas on Sunday. With our palms we were with Jesus as he made his entry into Jerusalem.

Not exactly the mighty king that many were looking for, he entered the holy city while riding an ass; this was a most undignified way to travel. It must have been a disappointment for many, and a source of derision for those who already loathed this itinerant preacher. Yet there were many, cheering him on with their cries of “Hosanna!”

Dominus Flevit Church, Mount of Olives, Israel, photo credit: F. Rossi Szpylczyn,no unauthorized distribution.

Before he went to Jerusalem, Jesus was across the valley on the Mount of Olives. It is said that in the very spot where he looked over and foresaw the destruction of Jerusalem, he wept. This church in the above photo was built on theret. The name of the church is Dominus Flevit; it means, Jesus wept.

Destruction was inevitable, the death of Jesus had to come; he knew this, yet he carried on. The same is true for all of us.

Is death inevitable? Yes. What about new life? New life ready for us in Christ. But we must “fix our eyes” on the city of Jerusalem, with all that it entails.

One of my favorite songs for this time of year is, Jerusalem, My Destiny, by Rory Cooney. I always think that the words that send us off into Holy Week in a most particular way. They are are the words that send us to death. These are the words that send us to new life in the Risen Christ. It is our destiny and our hope – and we do not go alone.

We cannot look away, as the song tells us, we cannot turn away. Holy week is upon us; our destiny is clear, so off we go…

Let me stand next to your fire

In today’s first reading we hear the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and their visit to the fiery furnace. This tale has a powerful message for all of us, just like all Scripture does, if we simply stop and listen, holding the words in our hearts.

This image is from the Catacombs of Priscilla, Rome, Italy.

What would you do if faced with serving another god and making homage to an idolatrous statue and by doing so, reject God? And let’s up the ante… the punishment for not doing this would be a horrifying death in the fiery furnace?

If you are like me, perhaps you will say that you would never reject God. Well, that may be the case for you, but if I even think about this for a minute, I can see just where and how I reject God all day long. Perhaps it is even worse, because I do it so mindlessly, God forgive me.

We are at a critical point in our Lenten journey with Jesus. Jerusalem is calling to us; not a fiery furnace, but the cross awaits us, just as it awaits Jesus. Certain death. Suddenly this whole Christian thing is looking very uncomfortable. Very, very uncomfortable.

Most likely, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, could have rationalized their way out of this. I know that I could! “Le’s see, I think. I ‘pretend’ to follow King Nebuchadnezzar’s god, and when I get out, I will make good on what I have done wrong! Phew! No fiery furnace for me!”

Now as our new Pope Francis recently reminded us that “the Lord never tires of forgiving,” true enough. However, do we ever tire of making the wrong choices? I know that I feel like I tire of making them, but somehow, I… keep… making… them… *sigh*

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego are a reminder, forerunners of Christ, of what happens when we make the correct choice. Often we lose it all – or seemingly so. Do we really lose it? Or do we gain? If our life is solely grounded in the material, then forget it. If we are solely grounded in how many hours we spend in church or in prayer, looking up at God, we might want to forget that, also. Once again, we find ourselves in the great both/and of life. We have certain obligations and responsibilities to our material life, true enough. And wouldn’t we want time in church and in prayer?

How do we hold the tension between heaven and earth and make the correct choices? Sometimes we have to choose the most difficult thing. Jesus lived that for us, he died for us. There were many before him who foreshadow what was to come, from Moses to Abraham to – I could go on and on – and including, our three friends in the hot spot.

This Sunday we will hear the Passion, and then we enter Holy Week. What awaits us? The same things that awaited Jesus. Choices between life and death, with the counter-intuitive choice of death bringing new life.

The fiery furnace and the Cross attract me, but do I really choose them? Luckily for us, our tireless God forgives us, but ultimately our choice will have to be made.

What will we do?

I can’t help but think of this song, so I leave you with this video…

Pope Francis, a dangerous man, part 2

So, are you still reeling from all the papal news of the past few days? My head continues to spin. I keep thinking, “What the what?” Nothing prepared me for what we are now seeing and living, which reminds me of something that I often say, but do not live very well… “There is no accounting for the Holy Spirit!”

The other day, I wrote about how dangerous Pope Francis might be. As we are told in the Gospel of John, chapter 3, verse 8:

“The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

That is certainly an understatement! And how the Spirit is alive in our new pope, who clearly has not followed any pre-existing script. As a result, I continue to find him someone who is potentially dangerous. And I love that. As Jesus Christ showed us a long time ago, and as Jesus Christ continues to show us today, nothing is more dangerous than… love.

Now before you go off shaking your head, considering this a seemingly insipid thought, please bear with me as I say few more things.  Any of us who are Catholic, or any other kind of Christian, cannot really profess our faith without the knowledge. Can we?

I can’t speak for others, but I am deeply moved by how Pope Francis is present to us. He has showed himself, thus far, to be a man who wants to be of the people, one to serve the poor. And we are all poor. I have no doubt his concerns focus on those who suffer from material poverty, but I also have no doubt that his concerns also focus on those of us who suffer from many other forms of poverty.  Like poverty of the heart, small-mindedness, division, and acrimony. Sounds like a typical day for me… *sigh*

When he moved through the crowds at the installation today, he freely reached out and touched people! And I also loved that this is the first time (this is HUGE news unto itself) a Greek Orthodox Patriarch has attended a papal installation since 1054. Yes, that was the date of the East-West Schism. Bartholomew I, who leads the Christians of the Orthodox Church was present. As if that was not enough, then this happened…

Δεν μπορούσα να το πιστέψω, το Ευαγγέλιο ψαλλόταν στα ελληνικά! Χάρη στον Θεό!

I mean, the Gospel was chanted in Greek! Thanks be to God! (Greek was the language of most of the New Testament Scriptures in their original form, not Latin.) It also seems noteworthy to me, that a woman proclaimed the Epistle; I’m not sure that has happened before at a papal mass, but I could be wrong. And the liturgy of the day, St. Joseph’s Day, was celebrated, which I think is great. Joseph was also importantly highlighted in the homily. All of this is so exciting to me, and I find myself turning to many Scriptures as these moments and days go by.

My love for the Gospel is great, and I could point to many stories and parables that touch my heart deeply, but for today, I will focus on two stories that point to how dangerous Jesus was, and how Pope Francis follows suit.

The first is from Luke 19, the story of Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was the tax collector, a most hated man, who was short in stature and long on corruption. My friend Maria L. Evans and I have both imagined Danny DeVito playing him in a movie! This height challenged hustler is up in a tree watching Jesus. The story goes like this:
So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree in order to see Jesus, who was about to pass that way. When he reached the place, Jesus looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.”

Needless to say, Jesus appears to be a disappointment to others who have followed him, because he reaches out to the worst guy in town and wants to stay with him.”

The other story is possibly my most favorite; the woman at the well, from John 4:4. Perhaps one of my favorite moments in this story is when the Samaritan woman admonishes Jesus for asking her for something to drink.
The Samaritan woman said to him, “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” (For Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans.)

That piece of Scripture flashed into my mind as I watched this potentially dangerous scene unfold on the news yesterday.What is so dangerous about this? I am being a bit tongue-in-cheek as I say what I do, but I do have several thoughts about it all.

First of all, Cardinal Bergoglio and President Kirchner have a history together; one that is not necessarily a smooth one. Yet, he welcomed her, and they literally shared an Argentine tradition, una yerba mate.

Drinking yerba mate is very ritualistic and it involves everyone sharing from the same cup. Perhaps you see where I am headed. This is good eucharistic theology, if you ask me. And thus, the pope, like Jesus before him, becomes a very dangerous man, by doing this so publicly, so openly, so freely, and so early in his pontificate.

Me… I really like it. That Pope Francis did this. Mate? I love the ritual, but I can’t stand the drink itself!  Now, there is a statement that could use a little theological unpacking, but I won’t go there today!

It makes me think of how fussy we can be, especially when at mass, not taking the cup, the Blood of Christ, which is equal in value and meaning, to the host, the Body of Christ. We are afraid of germs. What about the mate drinkers? They share germs. Are we afraid of germs? Are we afraid of one another? Are we afraid of Christ?

I think that this new pope may have some lessons for us along all of these lines. Lessons from a dangerous man, about someone who was really dangerous to many, but who is the savior of us all – Jesus Christ, our Lord.

With that, I leave you to ponder the dangerous power of love at work in the world.

Pope Francis, a dangerous man

Pope Francis continues to amaze us, but I believe him to be a dangerous man.  Many people, myself included, can’t quite take it all in. Is this for real? God forgive my doubt, but a part of me keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop… and I pray that it is not a red shoe. How I prefer his worn, black shoes; the shoes of a man who has actually walked.

He is a dangerous man, but I will get to that in a few minutes. This dangerous man has captured my heart indeed.

Today I walked my dog, praying this over and over in my head and heart, “Lord, I believe. Help my disbelief!” This is a twist on the Gospel of Mark, chapter 9, verses 23 and 24, which say:

Everything is possible to one who has faith.” Then the boy’s father cried out, “I do believe, help my unbelief!”

Faith. Belief. Such things do not come easily or cheaply. Oh, trust me – I do believe. But sometimes it is hard to truly, deeply believe. Like right now. It is eerily like falling in love; it feels great, but you know you will get hurt at some point.

That is when it hit me – we have to put our hearts out. We have to take the risk. That is what faith and belief demand from us. That is what Jesus asks of us, all the time.

Back to Pope Francis. Today he gave an audience to the media, in which he said and did really amazing things.

Lord, I believe. Help my disbelief.

Here is a snippet of video in which we hear the Holy Father speak about how and why he chose his name.

He is a dangerous man, indeed. And for that I am grateful. If Satan is the divider, Satan has had a great, great run. So how then is Pope Francis a dangerous man?

What could possibly be more dangerous than to have the Bishop of Rome who might unite us? Very little, if you ask me. And that is an amazing thing.

How we all like to run off to our little groups, like a bunch of bitter Pharisees plotting, sneering at “the other,” and trying to exclude. And how this Holy Father might be more like Jesus, kindly finding ways to speak to all of us.

Lord, I believe. Help my disbelief. Stay dangerous, unite us – please.

Pope Francis – A day of many firsts, a first day of many

A very special thank you to my dear and beloved friend and artist, Brother Michael O’Neill McGrath OSFS, and Bee Still Studios, for permission to use this copyrighted image here. The blog post may be shared, but please do not reproduce.

It was a crazy day. Once the white smoke came, it was so hard to focus on my work, while we waited for the announcement of who our new pope would be. When I heard the name of Jorge Mario Bergoglio, I had to stop and think about who he was, even if I had already considered him a good candidate in many ways. It was the kind of moment that kind of threw me without hurting me – which is a great metaphor for conversion and for the actions of the Holy Spirit! It was a day of many firsts, it was also the first day of what we hope are many.

There is just so, so, so much information, far too much to take in. That said, as I poke around, I find various nuggets to think and pray about. This one, from La Stampa, for example:

“His favourite priests are those who work in the ‘villas miserias’, the slums of the Argentinean capital. Instead of driving people away with rigid doctrinal preachings, he tries to look at all possible solutions in an attempt to embrace those who are the furthest from the Christian community. The Church, he insists, must show the merciful side of God. “

This is promising for me, his not driving people away with rigid doctrinal preachings. Now I can easily and see and read his stance on some social matters that weigh heavily upon me, but for the moment, I will hold that in hopeful reserve.

As I read the words of various Facebook posters, bloggers, or blog commenters, who want to overly praise, or castigate Pope Francis, in very narrow ways, and so quickly, too. I have seen him judged, because he is no friend of Latin liturgy; he is cheered for being “orthodox.” Whatever that means!  Some are happy that he rides the bus; I admit that I am one of them. Some others are upset because he “hates Liberation Theology,” and wonder why he is not a “third world priest.” To that, I want to reply, “Ummm… Argentina is not Brazil.“

All I can think of is this… it is your first day on your new job and everyone has judged you. Within minutes. *sigh* Yet, it is no surprise that everyone is trying to force him into a particular mold, but in my opinion, this is a man who will not easily (thanks be to God) fit into the simplistic kind of simplistic and ideological labels that are thrown around with such judgment and ease.

My blogging friend David Cruz-Uribe, over at Vox Nova wrote this, which I think is well stated:

“He will not fit easily into the conservative/liberal dichotomy that the secular media (and many Catholic commentators) will want to impose on him.  He is a strong defender of social justice and a harsh critic of the unequal distribution of wealth.  He is conservative on matters of sexual morality and a strong opponent of gay marriage; two years ago he got into a strong dispute with the president of Argentina on adoption by gay couples.  One interesting note:  he launched a blistering attack on priests who refused to baptise children born out of wedlock, calling it hypocritical and clericalist.”

That paragraph says it all for me. I see the great both/and before us, which causes me joy and which causes me angst. Are things like this supposed to be all to my liking? I think not!

Another good post came from the blog, Daily Theology, this particular post written by Amanda Osheim. In particular, I liked this:

Francis identified himself as the Bishop of Rome and accepted the warm welcome of “the diocesan community.”  He also described that community in a particular way, as a bishop and people journeying together.  This calls to mind one of Vatican II’s central metaphors for the church: the People of God on pilgrimage.  Lumen gentium, the council document that describes the church’s life, begins not with the church itself, but rather with the mystery of the triune God. Then, rather than turning immediately to a description of the church’s hierarchy, the council used the metaphor of the People of God to describe how Christ and the Spirit call the church to be one people, each of whom are priest, prophet, and king.  In these three characteristics the People of God receive their shared identity and discover their common mission. Further, a people on pilgrimage are “in process” and thus are marked by hope, trust, and prayer rather than by triumph.  It is only after describing the mystery of God and of God’s whole people that the document proceeds to articulate the particular roles of the church hierarchy.

Daniel Horan, OFM, a Franciscan friar and priest, who writes for America, the Jesuit magazine, said this about a “Jesuit pope with a Franciscan heart,” on his blog, Dating God, including a quote from James Martin, SJ:

First Pope from the Americas, First Jesuit Pope, First Pope “Francis.” I am personally moved by the decision to set the tone of the next papacy after the example of the poverello, the little poor man from Assisi — St. Francis. It has long been my dream that a pope would symbolically select the name of the most popular saint in all of Christian history (after Mary, of course). To see this in my own lifetime is quite startling in a positive way. As Fr. Jim Martin, SJ, wrote on his public Facebook page: “We have a Jesuit pope with a Franciscan name. What a beautiful combination!”

I like that Fr. Dan and Fr. Jim both frame this in such a positive way. As the Jesuits would say, AMDG!

Friend, publisher and collaborator, Deacon James Knipper had some good thoughts on his blog, Teach What You Believe:

Personally, I tend to be a person who focuses not so much what one says, but what one does.  So, there was something that immediately caught my eye today when the Pope was first introduced. As he stepped out onto the loggia balcony of the Basilica overlooking St. Peter’s Square all he was wearing was the papal white cassock and a simple cross…and no other ornamentation.  Did you notice how this contrasted with the robes worn by Benedict XVI when he was first introduced in 2005?

Finally, author of the newly published (and HIGHLY recommended) The Vatican Diaries, John Thavis, who covered the Vatican for 30 years, gave us this on his blog. His point of view, so intimately aware of Vatican doings, speaks volumes for me:

Wow.

The first Jesuit pope. The first Latin American pope. The first pope to choose the name Francis.

And already there are signs that he will find a new way of being pope. Asking for the people’s prayers for God’s blessing before delivering your own, for example, was a pretty eloquent act of humility.

Within minutes, the Vatican had announced that Pope Francis’ first major audience will be on Saturday, when he meets the more than 5,000 journalists covering his election.

My go-to “saints” for intercession on this matter (and on the matter of my own diocese, where our bishop, Howard J. Hubbard will soon reach retirement age) have been John XXIII, Oscar Romero, and Cardinal Bernadin. I think of them as clerical men of transformation and change. I will continue to pray for their intercession for our new Pope Francis.

Ultimately I have to wonder this; if we are not fixed on transformation and hope, as opposed to holding the ground that suits our own particular desires, what are we doing as Catholic Christians?

There are things about him that I absolutely and thrilled about, and things that worry me… but he is now the Bishop of Rome and our Holy Father. I am grateful and will keep praying, for the integrity of the Body of Christ, which is to pray for the transformation of every heart, for each and every one of us.

AMDG!

Habemus Papam! Pope Francis I

Because I have a day job, a demanding one, at a church, this is all I have for you…

From Whispers in the Loggia:

The College of Cardinals have elected Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, the 76 year-old Jesuit archbishop of Buenos Aires, as Pope Francis I.
By choosing the name of the founder of his community’s traditional rivals, the 266th Roman pontiff – the first from the American continent, home to more than half of the 1.2 billion-member church – has signaled two things: his desire to be a force of unity in a polarized fold, and his intent to “repair God’s house, which has fallen into ruin”… that is, to rebuild the church.

Habemus Papam! We just don’t know who yet… to be updated.

Well those bells are ringing away… to be updated when we know who it is.

Conclavian blogging – the Holy Spirit edition

If you think that I am being a little irreverent here, perhaps I am. I did post that YMCA video of Cardinal Tagle yesterday. It was fun – and it was not making fun of, that I can promise you. The temptation to post Papal peeps is strong, but alas, I shall only link.

So,what then is so serious and for real here today? I have started off shakily for some, I’m sure. Here’s the thing… Mock me if you wish, but it is the truth. I truly believe in the Holy Spirit’s presence and power at the conclave. Well, the Holy Spirit everywhere!