Thursday, June 28, 2018

I Have Not Suffered as I Should

Drawing of the crucifixion by St. John of the Cross (Public Domain)
"I do not promise to make you happy in this life, but in the next."
-- Our Lady of Lourdes to Saint Bernadette Soubirous

I have not suffered as I should. I have been lucky or unlucky, depending on perspective. I've been lucky enough to have tasted love. Enough to know that I would promise to suffer anything for that love. Of course, I know I am not as reliable as all that. I am fortunate that I've not been tested to my breaking point. And I know that I should be preparing for that test, that measure of love (cf. Jn 21:15-19).

I have not suffered as I should, because someone suffered for me. On the Cross, he cried out the mystery of suffering, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" Part of the resolution of this mystery (again, only a partial resolution) is knowing those words begin Psalm 22. The Psalms are the good, the bad, and the ugly of human experience. From the imprecatory "Blessed the one who seizes your children and smashes them against the rock" (Ps 137:9) to the comforting "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me" (Ps 23:4). And the Word of God became incarnate, He became human; "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn 1:14). And in His human nature, the incarnate God knew suffering.

The crazy part about this is that this Jesus tells us crazy things like "If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me" (Lk 9:23, see also Mt 16:24 and Mk 8:34). And His Apostle says, "pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you" (1 Thes 5:17-18). I remember the apostle's words particularly because soon after praising the words as wisdom, I was tested. I wasn't greatly tested, but I was tested enough to remind me that I should take them seriously, and truly take these words to heart. Indeed, God seems to have that twisted sense of humor such that St. Teresa of Avila complained, "If this is how You treat Your friends, no wonder why You have so few of them!" St. John of the Cross of the dark night of the soul fame was a friend of St. Teresa.

But I have not suffered as I should, so I cannot wholly know the sufferings of those who have deeply suffered. I see some clutch desperately to their faith, and others whose sufferings test their faith beyond imagining. I am helpless. But I will pray for them. If I can, I'll walk with them. And listen.

Life as Suffering

We modern Catholics in America are not well prepared for suffering. Bourgeois Catholics are used to material well-being, and pain and suffering are unfamiliar. We don't know how to deal with suffering within ourselves or in others.

So while this post is in response to Leticia Adams' Inadaquecy, Changes and Life and Elizabeth Scalia's When There Are No Human Answers to Our Measures of Pain, and in response to observations of friends in their struggles with faith due to suffering, and although I lack the requisite wisdom to help those who are deeply wounded and surrounded in darkness, I will dare to suggest how we might prepare for suffering.

Pray: there is no way we can help without Christ. Find your own Calcutta: copy Mother Teresa by finding a ministry or situation to help others. Mortification: more than just for disciplining ourselves, consider penance for ourselves and others.

Suggested reading: Peter Kreeft's Three Philosophies of Life where I borrowed the subtitle Life as Suffering. C.S. Lewis' The Problem of Pain and A Grief Observed. Saint John Paul II, Salvifici Doloris.
Suggested devotion: consecration to Jesus through Mary. I find St. Louis de Montfort's method and 33 Days to Morning Glory compliment each other.

Final suggestion: be humble. My contribution is a Socratic I don't know a whole lot.

Monday, May 21, 2018

The Church: Mother, Filled with the Holy Spirit

Mosaic of Mater Ecclesiae in St. Peter's Square (Public Domain)
Yesterday was Pentecost, sometimes called the birthday of the Church, when the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples as tongues of fire. Traditionally, that place where this happened is known as the Upper Room, the same place as that of the Last Supper. The disciples are transformed. Unlike their behavior during the passion of Christ before his Crucifixion, when almost all of them fled, they are now boldly proclaiming Christ crucified and his Resurrection.

As St. Paul states in 1 Corinthians 15:14, "if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain." The Resurrection is crucial to the Christian faith. We believe the Apostles because they are credible witnesses of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. They claim they actually saw the risen Jesus after he was crucified and died. And except for John, all the Apostles were martyred for their faith. The word "martyr" comes from the Greek for witness. Their deaths make them credible witnesses to their claim of actually seeing the risen Christ. Lutheran Satire has a good video on what if the Apostles made it all up.

But it's more than this. Not only does the Holy Spirit give the Apostles the supernatural assistance which helps the courage of the Apostles in the face of death, the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Truth. The Church herself is guided by the Holy Spirit. And so St. Paul can say in 1 Timothy 3:15 that the Church is "the pillar and bulwark of the Truth." And that makes sense, since we know better (at least we hope so) than to trust in fallen human beings. And Scripture does record some of the foolish things the thick-headed disciples did. We are all works in progress. Interestingly, after Napoleon Bonaparte threatened to destroy the Catholic Church, Cardinal Ercole Consalvi is reported to have replied, "If in 1,800 years we clergy have failed to destroy the Church, do you really think that you'll be able to do it?" God is the key ingredient of His Church.

After the Resurrection, Jesus, who has been given all authority in heaven and on earth, commissioned his Apostles to spread the Gospel, the Good News (Mt 28:18-20). The Church has the authority to teach in His name on matters of faith and morals. This teaching authority is called the Magsterium. The Church does not create this deposit of faith, but rather defends and develops it (this development is a deepened understanding of the Truth handed down to her).

Today's Gospel reading for the feast of Mary, Mother of the Church is taken from John 19:25-34. In beginning of this reading, Jesus is on the Cross, and gives his mother to his disciple John, and gives John to his mother. Like many passages in Scripture, there are multiple layers of meaning. The first truth is that John did take care of Mary as his mother from that moment on. But the Church also understands that John symbolically points to the whole Church. As through Christ, we all become adopted sons and daughters of the Father, so also through Christ, we become adopted sons and daughters of Mary. Mary is our mother; she is the mother of the Church. This is the human aspect of the Church. For as through Mary, the Word became flesh, so also, the body of Christ, the Church is made up of human members, the living stones of the Church.

There are many parallels between Mary and the Church, and a rich tradition of Church Fathers who called Jesus the new Adam, and Mary the new Eve, but I wish to keep this simple. Perhaps I will take up these sorts of amazing connections in future.

St. Paul makes several references about the Bride of Christ as the Church (such as in Ephesians 5). That strongly hints of the unity of Christ the head with the Church his body. But Acts 9 expresses this unity in a way which leaves no doubt. Paul, when he was still called Saul, was persecuting the Church, murdering her members. On the way to Damascus, Saul sees a blinding flash, and Jesus asks, "Why are you persecuting me?" The Church is Jesus Christ.

My reason for stressing this unity between Christ the head and his Church is because the Church is both mother and teacher. The denial of her authority in matters of faith and morals is widespread. But only by the authority of the Church guided by God the Holy Spirit do I find the witness of the Resurrection plausible. It is not by the personal holiness of her members, for I find them to be in desperate need of Jesus Christ. The Catholic Church is indeed a field hospital for sinners. And yet the Church thrives, despite the foolishness and sinfulness of her leaders and laity. Some of them are known to be cured -- those who we definitely know are saints in heaven -- and we can point to them as evidence of the Holy Spirit at work in the world. And we ordinary folks hope that we too will be cured, and restored to the health we were meant to have, filled with the Holy Spirit.