Time in the Desert

The Temptation in the Wilderness by Briton Rivière

On the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, I told my kids in religious education (commonly called CCD) about the Church's rules for fasting and abstinence. And I told them about my Lenten plans regarding food which were stricter than the Church requires. Since the children were under the age where the fasting rules applied, this was unfamiliar to them. To them, fasting seemed to be a terrible burden. After class, I spoke to another adult. We shared similar experiences regarding our plans for Lent. We both had difficulty in restraining ourselves outside of Lent. But for Lent anything seemed possible. And I had ambitious plans.

Almsgiving, prayer and fasting are the traditional focus for Lent. Lent is a spiritual bootcamp that mirrors Jesus' time of 40 days in the desert. This mortification makes no sense in itself, but rather its goal is a preparation for Easter, and growing closer in your relationship with God. It's about love.

People grasp the concept when it comes to romantic love. In (Everything I Do) I Do It for You, Bryan Adams sings of the depths of his love:

Look into your heart,
You will find
There's nothin' there to hide
Take me as I am,
Take my life
I would give it all, I would sacrifice

That sacrifice for love has a theological name, kenosis. It's beautifully expressed in Philippians 2:5-8:

Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus,
Who, though he was in the form of God,
    did not regard equality with God something to be grasped.
    Rather, he emptied himself,
    taking the form of a slave,
    coming in human likeness;
    and found human in appearance,
    he humbled himself,
        becoming obedient to death,
        even death on a cross.

But for us fallen human beings, there are traps and temptations along the way. We can become too focused on the externals. We can become too focused on the sacrifice and the giving of alms and prayer. We can think that perhaps we have earned God's love and entry into heaven.

There is nothing we can do to earn God's love. The good news is that God's love for us is already present. Before we came to be, God loved us. Thomas a Kempis moves into this paradox of our unworthiness and God's unremitting  love for us:

   Trusting in Your goodness and great mercy, O Lord, I come as one sick to the Healer, as one hungry and thirsty to the Fountain of life, as one in need to the King of heaven, a servant to his Lord, a creature to his Creator, a soul in desolation to my gentle Comforter.
    But whence is this to me, that You should come to me? Who am I that You should offer Yourself to me? How dares the sinner to appear in Your presence, and You, how do You condescend to come to the sinner? You know Your servant, and You know that he has nothing good in him that You should grant him this.
    I confess, therefore, my unworthiness. I acknowledge Your goodness. I praise Your mercy, and give thanks for Your immense love.

And Scripture is clear, it is not the sacrifice that God wants:

For you take no delight in sacrifice;
    were I to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.
The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit;
    a broken and contrite heart, O God, you wilt not despise.
(Psalm 51:16-17)

And so this is the real movement, the interior movement of the heart. Many people reduce Christianity to an ethical philosophy or a moral rulebook. But that misses the heart of Christianity, a lived relationship with God Almighty.

And so how did I do? How did my plan for Lent go? Some parts went according to plan and some didn't. Perhaps I moved an inch closer to God. or perhaps a millimeter. More importantly, it was a turn toward God; I was able to examine my heart with greater clarity, for by God's grace, a light was shone on it. I chastised my heart.

For what does God want, if He "take[s] no delight in sacrifice"? Last night, on Holy Thursday, I went to church with The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis. I stayed afterwards an hour with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. And I opened the book, and prompted by grace, I turned the pages to the following:

Christ:
   As I willingly offered Myself to God My Father, for thy sins, with My hands stretched out upon the cross, and My body naked, so that nothing remained in Me which was not turned into a sacrifice to appease the divine wrath:
   Even so must thou willingly offer thyself to Me daily in the Mass, for a pure and holy oblation, together with all thy powers and affections, as intimately as thou art able.
   What do I require more of thee, than that thou endeavor to resign thyself entirely to Me?
   Whatsoever thou givest besides thyself I regard not; for I seek not thy gift, but thyself.

No One Can Say Jesus Is Lord Except by the Holy Spirit.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini - Dove of the Holy Spirit (ca. 1660, stained glass, Throne of St. Peter, St. Peter's Basilica, Vatican)

The following is a talk I gave to confirmation students (today).

***

As I start I'd like you to keep in mind St Paul's words, “no one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Cor 12:3). It's obvious that anyone can speak the words, “Jesus is Lord” by reading them off a piece of paper. So St. Paul has something deeper in mind.

I'm going to talk about my relationship with the Holy Spirit, and how it developed over time.

Several times, the Bible refers to the Holy Spirit as the “Spirit of Truth” and that relates to the first part of my journey back home into the Catholic Church. I was baptized and confirmed in the Church, but after high school I drifted away. I no longer went to Mass. Many years passed. Then as I was watching C-SPAN, a journalist asked a rhetorical question, and I pondered that question. I went beyond the question, and I came to the insight that contraception was morally wrong. That insight did not make me popular; all of my friends at the time would have strongly disagreed with me. The point here is that this was a moment of intellectual honesty. I did not believe this truth because I wanted it to be true. The Catholic Church upholds this truth, and as time went on, I came to discover more truths that the Church upheld.

I came to accept that the Church taught the truth and that she was guided in truth by the Holy Spirit.

Shortly after I returned to the Church and started attending Mass again, I attended a Proud2BCatholic event, where I picked up a plastic Rosary in a plastic pouch. With the Rosary was a set of instructions on how to pray the Rosary. And so I starting praying the Rosary. When at home, I would look up the scripture passages related to the mysteries, and then I would pray the rosary.

A few years later, I was introduced to True Devotion to Mary written by St. Louis de Montfort. I cannot fully express how life changing this was for me. You're probably wondering why I'm talking about these Marian practices of the Rosary and True Devotion to Mary. St. Louis de Montfort writes:

The more [the Holy Ghost] finds Mary, His dear and inseparable spouse, in any soul, the more active and mighty He becomes in producing Jesus Christ in that soul, and that soul in Jesus Christ. [TD no. 20]

And elsewhere he writes,

When the Holy Ghost, her Spouse, has found Mary in a soul, He flies there. He enters there in His fullness; He communicates Himself to that soul abundantly, and to the full extent to which it makes room for His Spouse.[TD no. 36]

I could talk hours about this dimension of my relationship with the Holy Spirit. But I'm going to shift from the Marian topic to that of some of the consolations I've received from the Holy Spirit. These consolations are feelings of well being, and they don't happen all time, and for some, like Mother Teresa, they experience long periods of spiritual dryness.

One time, before confession, I asked the Holy Spirit to help me make a good confession. It was probably my second or third confession since returning to the Church. And this is important, I asked from my heart; I sincerely meant it. It was a cold autumn afternoon, but as I sat down praying the assigned penance after confession, it felt as if a weight were lifted from me, and that a warm blanket had enveloped me.

Another consolation happened a few years ago, as I was taking a course in natural theology. Natural theology is about what people can come to know about God through reason alone. I loved that course. It was awesome. That is, it re-awakened awe and wonder about the Creator and His creation. At the same time, I was scheduled as an adorer at St. George's in Worcester. My hour of adoring Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament was after midnight on Friday mornings. And on one night, something clicked within me, and I felt the urge to hug Jesus in the Sacrament. I wanted to run across the room to do it. Of course, I didn't. I physically couldn't since Jesus in the monstrance was enclosed by a plastic shield.

That was a temporary feeling, but I have a more permanent one. My soul is on fire for Jesus. And I share with Jesus a desire to spread that fire. Do you remember that “no one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit”?

So what might you take away from my experience with the Holy Spirit? 1) Learn to pray. And be honest in your prayers with God. 2) Learn more about Jesus. You can never learn enough. And remember, the Church is your teacher. 3) Go to confession often. Free yourself from sin. And 4) I recommend developing a relationship with Mary through prayer. I pray the Rosary daily.

And finally, let God transform your heart. In the Old Testament, in Ezekiel, God promises:

A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; I will take out of your flesh the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)

Thank you.

Unity with Wisdom

The Crucifixion with the Virgin and Saint John, Pietro Perugino

The Catechism of the Catholic Church gives a definition of catechesis in paragraph 5.

5 "Catechesis is an education in the faith of children, young people and adults which includes especially the teaching of Christian doctrine imparted, generally speaking, in an organic and systematic way, with a view to initiating the hearers into the fullness of Christian life."

In paragraph 11, the Catechism explains that it is "presenting an organic synthesis of the essential and fundamental contents of Catholic doctrine, as regards both faith and morals..." If you're like me, you're probably wondering about what organic means in context. You might picture an organic being such as a human being, which isn't far off from what is meant here. There is a unity to all doctrines of the faith which are all related and part of a whole. It is part of a living deposit of faith centered around Jesus Christ. These doctrines are not isolated; and deviations in one part are likely to produce misunderstandings of the whole. In sense, pulling at a thread in this sweater can unravel the whole sweater.

Wisdom is in the ordering and prioritizing the truth and understanding of the whole. It is an interesting quirk of our history that sophists (experts and "wise" men who are historically seen to be employing fallacious reasoning) are the foolish bad guys, while philosophers (lovers of wisdom) are more closely associated with wisdom.

But wisdom is also divine and biblical. Indeed, the Word of God, the divine Logos, reason or mind of God is associated with wisdom. And so love of wisdom (philosophy) deepens and moves from the abstract to a personal relationship with Jesus. Loving Jesus is a wise move.

Therefore, it should be no surprise that I love this poem by St. Louis Marie Grignion de Montfort:

Divine Wisdom, I love Thee unto folly.
I am Thy lover.
Thou alone in this world I seek,
Thou alone I desire.
I am a man gone mad with love,
Forever chasing Thee.

Tell me who Thou art,
For I am half blind.
I can discern only
That Thou art a secret I must fathom.
Show Thyself fully to my soul
Which dies for love of Thee.

Where dost Thou live,
Wisdom Divine?
Must I cross continents or seas
To find Thee,
Or fly across the skies?
I am ready to go wherever Thou art,
Not counting the costs, to possess Thee.

Note: while searching for the text of the poem, I found The Love of Eternal Wisdom by St. Louis. It's now on my reading list.

Original Sin and the Head of the Family

The Fall of Man by Titian

Msgr. Charles Pope has an excellent post, The Anatomy of Original Sin. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on one's philosophical worldview, it's a two-part post, where Msgr. Pope admits in the second part he has gone into politically incorrect territory. He thinks there are differences between men and women (I do too). Based on that, he talks about how Adam and Eve sinned differently in How Is Adam’s Sin Different from Eve’s?

While I've not done any serious pondering today, I remembered another politically incorrect essay about the head of the family. So today, I'm putting together two politically incorrect topics that are related. A long time ago, I read an in depth treatment on headship, Fr. Paul N. Check's "Wives, Be Subject to Your Husbands": The Authority of the Husband According to the Magisterium. How long ago? Well, I can only find it on the Internet Archive Wayback Machine.

A lot of people steer clear of both topics out of fear, but that is not helpful. As Christians, we should labor to understand Church teachings. That cannot be done if the topic is never discussed.

Also, I think reading St. John Paul II's Theology of the Body would be a good addition to the recommended reading list. But Msgr. Pope and Fr. Check have provided enough reading for this day.

As a final word, remember that Ephesians 5 talks about both the crown and the Crucifixion. C.S. Lewis writes in The Four Loves: "The sternest feminist need not grudge my sex the crown offered to it either in the Pagan or in the Christian mystery. For the one is of paper and the other of thorns. The real danger is not that husbands may grasp the latter too eagerly; but that they will allow or compel their wives to usurp it."

The heart, Ramone. Don't forget the heart.

CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
Andrew
https://www.flickr.com/photos/ello_there/3157432806/
modified by adding text

Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets. I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. (Mt 5:17)

In today's Gospel reading (Mt 5:17-37), Jesus is saying that He has not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill the law. Part of the problem of being a Pharisee is that the law comes to be idolized (made into a god) and the law comes to be taken in a literal-robotic fashion. Indeed, in Mark 7:11, Jesus notes that the Pharisees have figured out how to bypass honoring mother and father by qorban (that is, giving money to God via the temple as a priority over giving to needy parents). And prior to Jesus, a husband might say (like many contemporary husbands), "hey, I looked, but I didn't touch!". Jesus blasts that excuse in Matthew 5:28 by saying, "everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart."

Jesus is deepening our understanding of the law. It's not merely following the letter of the law, but rather he is telling us that what is happening in our hearts also matters. In Matthew 22:37-39, Jesus summarizes the Ten Commandment into Two Great Commandments, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself." The commandments are not merely negative prohibitions about what not to do, but a positive command to love. And we're to internalize these commands into our hearts ("all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind").

But there is another problem here: Pelagianism. In our culture which stresses rugged individualism, we tend to think that we can do it all on our own. "Yeah, sure, Jesus died on the Cross for us two thousand years ago, but I can take it from here." But that's not possible. Take a look at two quotes from the Old Testament:

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and put a new and steadfast spirit within me.
(Ps 51:10)

A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; I will take out of your flesh the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezek 36:26)

Who changes hearts? It's not you or I. God changes hearts. It's our job to respond to the grace given us. Indeed, Psalm 51 is a prayer, "Create in me a clean heart, O God! Please, please, please!"

What Is Truth?

School of Athens,What is truth?

What is truth?

At first it seems like an epistemological question, but it's really a metaphysical question with ethical implications.

It seems obvious to me now, that before one can know things, one presupposes metaphysical axioms or principles in the same way we presuppose certain axioms before we do geometry.

Pondering about pondering

Shortly before my reconsecration to Jesus through Mary on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, I made that connection between Pontius Pilate's question "What is truth?" and Jesus, the Truth itself standing before Pilate. It seemed to speak a philosophical proposition to me. It's that which I've written above and put into an image.

At the time, I was preparing for my consecration using Fr. Michael Gaitley's 33 Days to Morning Glory. This was the first time I used 33 days to morning glory. Fr. Gaitley stresses pondering, and it seemed that I was regularly inspired. This sort of thing had not happened with the same intensity since my return to the Catholic Church and started praying the Holy Rosary. Indeed, while praying the Joyful Mysteries, I pondered about Mary's ponderings.
 
An interesting thing about Mary pondering in her heart (Lk 2:17) is that the Greek word translated as 'pondering' is συμβάλλω (sumballó) -- which is where we get the word symbol -- and it means to throw together. The same word is used when St. Paul 'met' or 'engaged in discussion' with the Greek philosophers (Acts 17:18).

So, I find it interesting that in her heart, Mary is putting things together, and I think not only things are put together, but also in a Christian fashion, she is putting people together -- like bringing people to Christ Jesus.

And it actually does seem that when one ponders, one is mentally putting two things together -- one sees how one thing is like another thing in some respect.

A few notes

One post a year is far too infrequent.

But it seems I've found a method. In preparation for the Feast of Our Lady, the second time I've used 33 days, I've been able to post -- for 32 straight days -- a short reflection on the day's assigned pondering. Some days seemed inspired, and some days I had to grind it out. But overall, it seemed fruitful.

It seems that I'm able to unite to the Immaculate Heart in pondering. And that's the reason for the naming of the blog. And I think I can go to any topic under the Sun here. I don't think I'm restricted to religious topics. But I should caution that I am not claiming that Mary or the Holy Spirit are dictating to me what I should write. Rather, I'm doing my best to unite myself to the Immaculate Heart of Mary, and I do so that I might be united to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. In other words, I'm trying to think with the Church; I'm trying to think with Jesus. All errors will likely be the result of my selfish attempts to make myself the center of the process. All good that I do will credited to Mary and ultimately to God, the source of all good.

I also expect that I'll make many blunders in grammar, spelling and facts. For me, the perfect is often the enemy of the good, and so I'm going to relax and post stuff that I would ordinarily consider to be rough draft.