It's the necessarily the most accurate translation of the famous carol, but I like it, and I hope you'll enjoy the musical setting of it below (even if the graphic is a little out of date!). Much has happened in our world in 2013, both for good and bad, anticipated and dramatically unexpected: may 2014 hold much for us in the form of blessings, especially on the poor, the suffering, the persecuted... After all, Schiller (and Beethoven) got it right: Alle Menschen werden Bruder...
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Monday, December 30, 2013
AM I A JESUIT?!
This
question was thrown at me (I do not exaggerate) by a woman who was admittedly a
“visitor” to Our Savior church this past weekend. It was clearly a question of contempt both
for the Jesuits and for me. What
triggered it?
The woman was upset (to use a mild descriptive) because the tabernacle in Our Savior is not directly behind the altar, but rather in a chapel area around to the side. She insisted that I consider moving it to where she regarded it as its only place.
I tried to be calm (I probably failed), but my attempts to reason with her were not productive. This was the case even though I freely admitted that the tabernacle is now where it would not be, had I been the designer of the church. But I would not have put it where she wanted it, either. When I would not agree with her, she threw the “Jesuit” question at me. I assured her I was not a Jesuit (maybe I should have said, “But I have been educated by the Jesuits”!). And so she left, very angry. [Where would I have put the tabernacle, had I been building Our Savior church? This is a difficult question! I am glad I am not in the position to have to answer it. But one model for me (for those who know it) is the “old” St Michael’s in Auburn.]
What is the great “sticking point” for people like this woman? It is, I believe, custom and a (perhaps unconscious) resentment toward all that was brought in by and is aligned with “Vatican II.,” especially in the realm of liturgy. A tabernacle in another place is not what some people are used to; they see any move as an insult to Jesus. But is this necessarily the case?
First of all, we must see what the Catholic Church says about the purpose of reservation of the Blessed Sacrament. In order, they are: 1) to bring viaticum to the dying; 2) to bring Holy Communion to the sick and for private prayer/adoration (Holy Communion and Worship of the Eucharist Outside Mass, #5).
Next, we should see what the Catholic Church says about the location of the tabernacle: “…to express the sign of the eucharist, it is more in harmony with the nature of the celebration that, at the altar where Mass is celebrated, there should if possible be no reservation of the sacrament in the tabernacle [if one exists at that altar] from the beginning of Mass.” “The place for the reservation of the eucharist should be truly preeminent…This will be achieved more easily if the chapel [of reservation] is separate from the body of the church…” (ibid, #9). “…the Most Blessed Sacrament should be reserved in a tabernacle in a part of the church that is truly noble, prominent, conspicuous, worthily decorated, and suitable for prayer….It is more appropriate as a sign that on an altar on which Mass is celebrated there not be a tabernacle in which the Most Holy Eucharist is reserved. Consequently, it is preferable that the tabernacle be located…even in some chapel suitable for the private adoration and prayer of the faithful… (General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 3rd Typical Edition, ##314-315).
It seems to me that while one can argue (reasonably) that our tabernacle’s location is not sufficiently “prominent [and] conspicuous,” it does meet the other criteria set up by the Catholic Church’s documents.
Why does this matter? In large part, it is the culmination of a trajectory of liturgical sensibility that began with Pope St Pius X and even before—to make participation in the Mass the primary purpose of a church, not to have it as simply a very large Adoration Chapel. Historically, before Pius X, there was (to put it gently) a reluctance neither to participate in the celebration in any active way, nor to receive the Holy Eucharist. Church law actually had to mandate reception of Communion at least once a year (the famous “Easter duty” from the Six Precepts of the Church). Most Catholics were far more comfortable and far more used simply to gaze, worship, adore, and go home—seemingly forgetting that the command of the Lord was “Take and eat; take and drink.” We then believed ourselves too unworthy…
Is there a place “in the center of the church” for the Eucharistic Presence of our Lord to be worshipped? Of course—during every Mass! And when you receive Holy Communion, please realize: YOU have become a “tabernacle”!
I wish we were as passionate as this woman about the way we need to take Christ into the world, rather than worrying too much about where He is “located” in our churches (do we really think we can lock Him up in the tabernacle?). Pope Francis’ challenge in his Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium (“The Joy of the Gospel”) makes it clear that our role in the “new evangelization” is precisely to experience the presence of the Lord sacramentally as we receive the Eucharist, and then be His missionaries to those in need. Liturgical worship and private prayer do not exist for their own sake—they are they to nourish and empower us to live and be the Gospel.
I pray that 2014 will be a year of evangelical re-birth for us, to do just this. Meanwhile, I pray before the Blessed Sacrament before every Mass. I hope you’ll join me there.
The woman was upset (to use a mild descriptive) because the tabernacle in Our Savior is not directly behind the altar, but rather in a chapel area around to the side. She insisted that I consider moving it to where she regarded it as its only place.
I tried to be calm (I probably failed), but my attempts to reason with her were not productive. This was the case even though I freely admitted that the tabernacle is now where it would not be, had I been the designer of the church. But I would not have put it where she wanted it, either. When I would not agree with her, she threw the “Jesuit” question at me. I assured her I was not a Jesuit (maybe I should have said, “But I have been educated by the Jesuits”!). And so she left, very angry. [Where would I have put the tabernacle, had I been building Our Savior church? This is a difficult question! I am glad I am not in the position to have to answer it. But one model for me (for those who know it) is the “old” St Michael’s in Auburn.]
What is the great “sticking point” for people like this woman? It is, I believe, custom and a (perhaps unconscious) resentment toward all that was brought in by and is aligned with “Vatican II.,” especially in the realm of liturgy. A tabernacle in another place is not what some people are used to; they see any move as an insult to Jesus. But is this necessarily the case?
First of all, we must see what the Catholic Church says about the purpose of reservation of the Blessed Sacrament. In order, they are: 1) to bring viaticum to the dying; 2) to bring Holy Communion to the sick and for private prayer/adoration (Holy Communion and Worship of the Eucharist Outside Mass, #5).
Next, we should see what the Catholic Church says about the location of the tabernacle: “…to express the sign of the eucharist, it is more in harmony with the nature of the celebration that, at the altar where Mass is celebrated, there should if possible be no reservation of the sacrament in the tabernacle [if one exists at that altar] from the beginning of Mass.” “The place for the reservation of the eucharist should be truly preeminent…This will be achieved more easily if the chapel [of reservation] is separate from the body of the church…” (ibid, #9). “…the Most Blessed Sacrament should be reserved in a tabernacle in a part of the church that is truly noble, prominent, conspicuous, worthily decorated, and suitable for prayer….It is more appropriate as a sign that on an altar on which Mass is celebrated there not be a tabernacle in which the Most Holy Eucharist is reserved. Consequently, it is preferable that the tabernacle be located…even in some chapel suitable for the private adoration and prayer of the faithful… (General Instruction of the Roman Missal, 3rd Typical Edition, ##314-315).
It seems to me that while one can argue (reasonably) that our tabernacle’s location is not sufficiently “prominent [and] conspicuous,” it does meet the other criteria set up by the Catholic Church’s documents.
Why does this matter? In large part, it is the culmination of a trajectory of liturgical sensibility that began with Pope St Pius X and even before—to make participation in the Mass the primary purpose of a church, not to have it as simply a very large Adoration Chapel. Historically, before Pius X, there was (to put it gently) a reluctance neither to participate in the celebration in any active way, nor to receive the Holy Eucharist. Church law actually had to mandate reception of Communion at least once a year (the famous “Easter duty” from the Six Precepts of the Church). Most Catholics were far more comfortable and far more used simply to gaze, worship, adore, and go home—seemingly forgetting that the command of the Lord was “Take and eat; take and drink.” We then believed ourselves too unworthy…
Is there a place “in the center of the church” for the Eucharistic Presence of our Lord to be worshipped? Of course—during every Mass! And when you receive Holy Communion, please realize: YOU have become a “tabernacle”!
I wish we were as passionate as this woman about the way we need to take Christ into the world, rather than worrying too much about where He is “located” in our churches (do we really think we can lock Him up in the tabernacle?). Pope Francis’ challenge in his Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium (“The Joy of the Gospel”) makes it clear that our role in the “new evangelization” is precisely to experience the presence of the Lord sacramentally as we receive the Eucharist, and then be His missionaries to those in need. Liturgical worship and private prayer do not exist for their own sake—they are they to nourish and empower us to live and be the Gospel.
I pray that 2014 will be a year of evangelical re-birth for us, to do just this. Meanwhile, I pray before the Blessed Sacrament before every Mass. I hope you’ll join me there.
Monday, December 23, 2013
RICH CHURCH OR POOR CHURCH?
Pope Francis has famously asked for “…a poor Church, for the
poor.” I agree with him on one level,
but I think (God forgive me!) that I disagree with him on another (though we
actually in fact both agree)…
So must the Church be rich? I think so, understood in a specific sense.
I went to buy some seafood today at a store run by a family who are parishioners. They have been too kind to me in the past—I feel guilty going there, knowing how much they want to give me. Today was not much different—I left with seafood (at a discount) and a wonderful “to-go pack” of lunch. As I was driving back to the rectory, I realized, “I am rich.” But where does the wealth come from? It comes from love.
It is in this sense that I want a “rich Church, for the rich.” I want us to be so overflowing with love for one another and for others that no one can help also but be rich—and grateful. As St Paul reminds us (II Cor 8:9): “…our Lord Jesus Christ, [who] for your sake…became poor although he was rich, so that by his poverty [we] might become rich.” This is not just a clever Scripture passage for Stewardship Sunday—it is fundamental to the mystery of the Incarnation and Redemption: He freely gives what we desperately need, but what ourselves could never merit or earn or purchase.
So I want a Church rich in love, rich in receiving the blessings of the Lord, rich in willingness to share those blessings (material and spiritual) with those who long for them. This is a Church in which the loaves and fishes are gladly shared in confidence that they will be multiplied to feed the thousands. It is a Church in which water, freely offered, can be transformed into wine. It is a Church where the Bread broken and Wine poured out will offer reconciliation and healing.
This is a Church in which no one, ultimately, is poor.
Monday, December 16, 2013
OOPS--HE DID IT AGAIN! POPE FRANCIS AND THE POOR
His Christ-like embrace of the poor and ministry to the poor is not only something that flows from his spirituality and identity (it’s nothing appliqued). It is marked by creativity and thoughtfulness. Most recently, the Holy Father has sent off a “small Christmas gift” of two thousand envelopes to be distributed by volunteers to the poor of Rome. The distribution centers, it was reported, are the places where Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity do their ministry. That means their international mother-house on the edge of the Circus Maximus, at San Gregorio Magno; and their outpost alongside the Vatican’s offices for the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith (the Holy Office), just to the left and outside the colonnade of the piazza of St Peter’s. What is in those envelopes?
The poor will receive a one-day pass on the City’s Metro (subway) system, and a phone card; the envelopes will be stamped, so that they can be used by the recipients to mail letters; and they will have a Christmas card signed by Pope Francis—expressing his solidarity.
Does he roam the streets around St Peter’s at night, to help the poor? No. But does his special emissary in charity, Abp Konrad Krajewski, do so, down the Via della Conciliazione where many of the homeless poor spend the night? Yes, he does.
Creativity in mercy is a powerful way to show the love of Jesus Christ.
Why be a Christian? It is because we are utterly convinced of the reality of the Resurrection which validates the ministry and message of Jesus.
How be a Christian? Engage in the virtue of active love/forgiveness/reconciliation of others. How much more clearly do we need to be told, beyond the parable of sheep and goats (Matt 25:31-46)?
To these seven “corporal works of mercy” the Church has since added seven “spiritual ones.” Check out all fourteen!!
Not everyone can do all fourteen, but every Christian must do some, and the Church must regularly engage in them all and be known and seen to do so. This I not self-aggrandizement; it is the command of the Lord (Matt 5:16) to let the light shine. It’s not all about “me”—it’s all about Him. It’s about faith working in love (Gal 5:6), or, if you prefer, “walking the talk.”
And Pope Francis knows this better than most.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
REFLECTING ON "THE JOY OF THE GOSPEL"
There is a tremendous amount of upset, it seems, amid certain quarters of
the Catholic Church, with Pope Francis’ Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium. Most of it is curious, to say the least. We have the spectacle of TV “reporters” on
Catholic channels (or “commentators” like Rush Limbaugh) questioning the degree
of the “binding nature” of this document because there are statements in it
about economics and re-distribution of wealth on behalf of the poor. They are convinced that the Pope knows
nothing about economics and that there is no reason to take him seriously when
he speaks about systemic change.
They may or may not be right in their critique of his analysis, but in
focusing on the points that they do, they miss the forest (deliberately?) in
order to wring their hands at a given tree.
This is tragic, but perhaps it is understandable. And there certainly is precedent.
When the Catechism of the Catholic
Church (quoting Pope John Paul II’s Evangelium
Vitae) stated that the justification for capital punishment was “very rare,
if not practically non-existent,” some of the same pundits pounced on the words
“rare” and “practically,” arguing that this meant there is no definitive
condemnation of capital punishment, and so death penalty-happy States like
Texas and Florida (and yes, Alabama) are perfectly fine morally. Of course, this ignores the overall intent of
the Catechism’s statement and the
lived practice of Pope John Paul himself.
But that is another matter…
By claiming that Pope Francis’ rejection of the principle of “trickle-down
economics” is mistaken, it is too simple a step for others today to reject the
principle of the poor as our brothers and sisters. And this is the “forest” that Pope Francis is
trying to put into focus.
Needless to say, the Holy Father has the principles of the Bible, the words
of Jesus, and the teaching of the Church Fathers as the continuous trajectory
from which his thought proceeds. So why
(and how) can some Catholics find so much to reject?
It seems to me that when some Catholics take moral stands in a rather
sanguine way (even if they are intensely involved emotionally) it is too often
when it offers a chance to point a finger at another person. In condemning abortion, for example, it is
something someone else does; we would never do such a thing. When capital punishment is defended, it is
because it is something someone else has done; we haven’t committed that
horrible crime.
But Pope Francis’ words are now a critique of us. We live in the most privileged society,
economically speaking, in world history.
We also live in what is possibly the most self-absorbed society in human
history, as well. And there is a vast
inequality of life-style between us and much of the rest of the world, in terms
of standard of living, of educational opportunity, of access to medical care… In short, too many people in the world live
in conditions that degrade human dignity.
Should all nations be democracies, just like America? No.
Should all nations have the standard of living of America? No.
Are all countries governed by leaders whose integrity is
uncorrupted? No.
But should world hunger and disease exist on the level that it does? No, not if we Catholics were to take
seriously the dogma of the Body of Christ, and the words of Jesus in the
parable of the sheep and the goats.
The Pope is saying that the wealthy have too much wealth spend on self, and
that the poor are too regularly ignored or rejected for the sake of the wealthy
keeping their wealth for their personal pleasure.
Worse, we not only take for granted our “birthright” of wealth, but we
waste much of what we have as our food.
Is it an accident that we are one of the most obese nations? How much food is regularly thrown away at
restaurants because they over-size portions?
One does think of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus…
And when the wealthy and privileged (aka, much of the Catholic Church in
the United States) hear the Pope’s challenges, we become uncomfortable and
search for reasons to justify rejecting his message. I said “we” deliberately because I feel the
challenge and I know that he convicts me in my own life-style and lack of
commitment to be a brother to the poor.
Where do we start? One way is to
make a pledge to eliminate, insofar as is possible, waste of food in our own
lives. It requires discipline (and time)
to do this—to buy only so much fresh food, for example, as can easily be eaten
in a day or two. Italian grandmothers
know this instinctively: they shop every
day at the markets, buy what’s fresh, and then prepare and eat it. How often do we “stock up” and then throw
away?
I have seen the level of poverty in which some people live, in Haiti and
rural Mexico (and in some parts of rural Alabama). Can I eliminate it? No.
But can it motivate me to live more responsibly and generously, so that
I waste less and have more to give—to agencies like Catholic Relief Services
that work to ease the suffering of the poor?
Yes I can.
I could probably cut my life-style and annual income in half and still live
royally compared with much of the world.
How much do I want to reduce, for the sake of generosity? And:
can I do this with evangelical Gospel joy? This is the challenge of the economic portion
of Evangelii Gaudium that some folks
don’t want to face.
Are we guilty of perpetuating a "throw-away culture," a
"culture of waste" while others in our world starve? Here is Pope
Francis' prayer:
O God, you entrusted to us the fruits of all creation so that we might care for the earth and be nourished with its bounty.
You sent us your Son to share our very flesh and blood and to teach us your Law of Love.
Through His death and resurrection, we have been formed into one human family.
Jesus showed great concern for those who had no food – even transforming five loaves and two fish into a banquet that served five thousand and many more.
We come before you, O God, conscious of our faults and failures, but full of hope, to share food with all members in this global family.
Through your wisdom, inspire leaders of government and of business, as well as all the world’s citizens, to find just, and charitable solutions to end hunger by assuring that all people enjoy the right to food.
Thus we pray, O God, that when we present ourselves for Divine Judgment, we can proclaim ourselves as “One Human Family” with “Food for All”. Amen.
O God, you entrusted to us the fruits of all creation so that we might care for the earth and be nourished with its bounty.
You sent us your Son to share our very flesh and blood and to teach us your Law of Love.
Through His death and resurrection, we have been formed into one human family.
Jesus showed great concern for those who had no food – even transforming five loaves and two fish into a banquet that served five thousand and many more.
We come before you, O God, conscious of our faults and failures, but full of hope, to share food with all members in this global family.
Through your wisdom, inspire leaders of government and of business, as well as all the world’s citizens, to find just, and charitable solutions to end hunger by assuring that all people enjoy the right to food.
Thus we pray, O God, that when we present ourselves for Divine Judgment, we can proclaim ourselves as “One Human Family” with “Food for All”. Amen.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
TRAYVON MARTIN AND GEORGE ZIMMERMAN
People have asked me my thoughts on the killing of
Trayvon Martin and the trial/verdict of George Zimmerman, and here they are. But
this is not a coherent essay: I have no
coherent thoughts at all, only random reflections…
I have no idea what really happened that night when Trayvon Martin was killed, other than that George Zimmerman shot him. Was it self-defense? Was Trayvon high on “drank”? Was it criminally liable over-reaction on the part of George Zimmerman? I don’t know.
Did George Zimmerman “profile” Trayvon Martin? Probably; sadly, so do I, all too often. Do you? The news media also profiled in their original pictures of a happy, clean-cut and young Trayvon versus a seedy-looking George Zimmerman. Were they playing the “Here’s the picture; now you know the answer” game?
Could there not have been a conversation, that night, to the effect of “Hey, you—what’re you doing here?” “Hey, man—I live here.” “Oh. OK.” Why did this conversation not happen?
Shooting seems extremely excessive in the context of a fight. Was Trayvon on top? How? Was he unarmed? Yes, but how badly must a person be beaten before he/she is justified in considering his/her life seriously threatened? And how badly was George Zimmerman beaten, in fact?
I’m sure there was a procedural answer to this, but I don’t know it: why only six jurors? And why were they all women? People think the jury was stacked in Mr Zimmerman’s favor, but the prosecution had rights to strike jurors—why were they satisfied with this make-up?
Would a lesser charge have been more “provable”? I’m thinking reckless homicide, for example, rather than 2nd degree murder. When someone is dead by mistake, it seems that there should be some form of punishment or retribution or recompense… (unless, of course, you are OJ Simpson: “If the glove don’t fit…”)
Trayvon has been compared to Emmit Till and Medgar Evers. The first comparison is a stretch; the second is ridiculous.
Was the cause of justice served by this decision? Of course—“justice” is whatever the justice system hands down. That doesn’t mean the cause of right was served.
I love the comment of the Episcopal Bishop of Central Florida: “I want to live in a world where George Zimmerman would have offered Trayvon Martin a ride to get out of the rain that night” (paraphrased).
Once again, the bottom line: I don’t know what really happened that night. But I am terribly sorry that it did happen. A boy is dead; his family is devastated; a man’s life is in shambles, and he is unsafe now, wherever he is. No one wins, in spite of the verdict.
Are we still racially focused as a country? Of course we are (witness our greater obsession with Latinos as undocumented aliens). We need to get beyond this kind of moral myopia. Speaking of immigrants, Pope Francis’ comments are germane here: “Where is your brother?” God asked Cain after the murder of Abel. “Who was neighbor to the man who fell in with thieves?” Jesus asked the scholar of the Law. We need to learn that different doesn’t have to involve a “better or worse” judgment; rather, one of complementarity. What I need, you may well have. St Paul, millennia ago, warned the Corinthians about this attitude: the body must have many parts, all different, all complementary, in order to function.
When he finally dies, I would love it if George Zimmerman had to meet Trayvon Martin and engage in a “truth and reconciliation commission” sort of sit-down as his “purgatory.” Insofar as Trayvon is innocent and George is guilty, he’ll have to ask forgiveness, and Trayvon will be able to grant it; and if the situation is the opposite, the roles will have to be reversed. But may they enter the Kingdom together, the two of them better off than most of us are here now.
I have no idea what really happened that night when Trayvon Martin was killed, other than that George Zimmerman shot him. Was it self-defense? Was Trayvon high on “drank”? Was it criminally liable over-reaction on the part of George Zimmerman? I don’t know.
Did George Zimmerman “profile” Trayvon Martin? Probably; sadly, so do I, all too often. Do you? The news media also profiled in their original pictures of a happy, clean-cut and young Trayvon versus a seedy-looking George Zimmerman. Were they playing the “Here’s the picture; now you know the answer” game?
Could there not have been a conversation, that night, to the effect of “Hey, you—what’re you doing here?” “Hey, man—I live here.” “Oh. OK.” Why did this conversation not happen?
Shooting seems extremely excessive in the context of a fight. Was Trayvon on top? How? Was he unarmed? Yes, but how badly must a person be beaten before he/she is justified in considering his/her life seriously threatened? And how badly was George Zimmerman beaten, in fact?
I’m sure there was a procedural answer to this, but I don’t know it: why only six jurors? And why were they all women? People think the jury was stacked in Mr Zimmerman’s favor, but the prosecution had rights to strike jurors—why were they satisfied with this make-up?
Would a lesser charge have been more “provable”? I’m thinking reckless homicide, for example, rather than 2nd degree murder. When someone is dead by mistake, it seems that there should be some form of punishment or retribution or recompense… (unless, of course, you are OJ Simpson: “If the glove don’t fit…”)
Trayvon has been compared to Emmit Till and Medgar Evers. The first comparison is a stretch; the second is ridiculous.
Was the cause of justice served by this decision? Of course—“justice” is whatever the justice system hands down. That doesn’t mean the cause of right was served.
I love the comment of the Episcopal Bishop of Central Florida: “I want to live in a world where George Zimmerman would have offered Trayvon Martin a ride to get out of the rain that night” (paraphrased).
Once again, the bottom line: I don’t know what really happened that night. But I am terribly sorry that it did happen. A boy is dead; his family is devastated; a man’s life is in shambles, and he is unsafe now, wherever he is. No one wins, in spite of the verdict.
Are we still racially focused as a country? Of course we are (witness our greater obsession with Latinos as undocumented aliens). We need to get beyond this kind of moral myopia. Speaking of immigrants, Pope Francis’ comments are germane here: “Where is your brother?” God asked Cain after the murder of Abel. “Who was neighbor to the man who fell in with thieves?” Jesus asked the scholar of the Law. We need to learn that different doesn’t have to involve a “better or worse” judgment; rather, one of complementarity. What I need, you may well have. St Paul, millennia ago, warned the Corinthians about this attitude: the body must have many parts, all different, all complementary, in order to function.
When he finally dies, I would love it if George Zimmerman had to meet Trayvon Martin and engage in a “truth and reconciliation commission” sort of sit-down as his “purgatory.” Insofar as Trayvon is innocent and George is guilty, he’ll have to ask forgiveness, and Trayvon will be able to grant it; and if the situation is the opposite, the roles will have to be reversed. But may they enter the Kingdom together, the two of them better off than most of us are here now.
Friday, July 5, 2013
SANTO SUBITO OR RUSH TO JUDGMENT?
This will not be the most popularly approved blog-post I
ever write, but I hope at least that it will not generate hate-mail, even as it
will generate posts that strongly disagree.
That’s OK.
Is it too fast for a declaration of the sainthood of Pope John Paul II? My personal take is that the answer is yes, especially in the context of a Church for which “one day is like a thousand years…” (II Peter 3:8). After all, it has been only 8 years since that April in 2005 when John Paul passed to the judgment seat of God and the throne of grace (Romans 14:10; Hebrews 4:16). Blessed (Mother) Teresa of Calcutta has been dead since 1997, after all, and it was 66 years before Ignatius Loyola was “raised to the altars.”
Some will object that John Paul is not worthy of canonization because of his failure to deal effectively and comprehensively with the evil of sexual abuse of minors by clergy. And no doubt he did not, especially with regard to Marciel Degollado of the Legionnaires of Christ. I am willing to entertain the possibility that this was less because of lack of moral fiber and more a matter of lack of understanding. He was, in my mind, similarly myopic with regard to the plight of the sufferings thousands in Central and South America—too convinced that “preferential option for the poor” was Marxism ‘writ large.’ He had little time, for example, for Archbishop Oscar Romero. And even after his martyrdom (I use the word deliberately) he somehow remained persona non grata at the Vatican. A Polish pope would be expected to have no time for anything that resembled the philosophy of communism. I will always wonder, though, when and to what extent the effects of the Parkinson’s really “kicked in” and deprived him of the focus, energy and acumen he’d once had—without which perhaps he could not face the problematic realities of the Church. Even a cursory reading of his encyclicals shows this: when he was in his fullest powers his writings were heavily philosophical (think Laborem Exercens); later, the encyclicals were more and more readable (think Centesimus Annus or Ut Unum Sint).
Nevertheless, I am also sympathetic to the point of view that people can be mistaken in their thoughts and behaviors and yet also holy people. This veers dangerously into the area of personal piety as a “trump card” for public awareness and conduct, but the alternative is equally dangerous: the thought that all saints must somehow be perfect in all things (and, by implication, on the basis of their own efforts).
Yet there was an incredible charisma about Pope John Paul II—manifested in his world-wide pastoral visits and the beginning of World Youth Day. I was in Rome for World Youth Day 2000, and I cannot begin to describe to you the emotional and spiritual impact I felt in watching the Holy Father at the evening vigil at Tor Vergata. Nor will I ever forget watching the video of his climbing to the Western Wall in Jerusalem to place there a prayer asking forgiveness. And I will remember as long as I live the day he was shot and almost killed. I will savor with deep gratitude visual of his going to forgive and speak with Mehmet Ali Agca in prison. He was deeply in love with the Blessed Mother and the Church (perhaps in large part because of the loss of his own family at so young an age?). The devotion was infectious.
So do I have a “love-hate” relationship with Pope John Paul II? No. But I do have a “love-wait” relationship. Let history play itself out a bit longer, I would have said. But having said all that, John Paul II will forever also have an emotional place in my heart. After all, I sang for him! And I pray the inspiration he will effect in others’ hearts will be the full flower of his motto, Totus Tuus—I am completely yours, Lord: no matter what the cost.
Is it too fast for a declaration of the sainthood of Pope John Paul II? My personal take is that the answer is yes, especially in the context of a Church for which “one day is like a thousand years…” (II Peter 3:8). After all, it has been only 8 years since that April in 2005 when John Paul passed to the judgment seat of God and the throne of grace (Romans 14:10; Hebrews 4:16). Blessed (Mother) Teresa of Calcutta has been dead since 1997, after all, and it was 66 years before Ignatius Loyola was “raised to the altars.”
Some will object that John Paul is not worthy of canonization because of his failure to deal effectively and comprehensively with the evil of sexual abuse of minors by clergy. And no doubt he did not, especially with regard to Marciel Degollado of the Legionnaires of Christ. I am willing to entertain the possibility that this was less because of lack of moral fiber and more a matter of lack of understanding. He was, in my mind, similarly myopic with regard to the plight of the sufferings thousands in Central and South America—too convinced that “preferential option for the poor” was Marxism ‘writ large.’ He had little time, for example, for Archbishop Oscar Romero. And even after his martyrdom (I use the word deliberately) he somehow remained persona non grata at the Vatican. A Polish pope would be expected to have no time for anything that resembled the philosophy of communism. I will always wonder, though, when and to what extent the effects of the Parkinson’s really “kicked in” and deprived him of the focus, energy and acumen he’d once had—without which perhaps he could not face the problematic realities of the Church. Even a cursory reading of his encyclicals shows this: when he was in his fullest powers his writings were heavily philosophical (think Laborem Exercens); later, the encyclicals were more and more readable (think Centesimus Annus or Ut Unum Sint).
Nevertheless, I am also sympathetic to the point of view that people can be mistaken in their thoughts and behaviors and yet also holy people. This veers dangerously into the area of personal piety as a “trump card” for public awareness and conduct, but the alternative is equally dangerous: the thought that all saints must somehow be perfect in all things (and, by implication, on the basis of their own efforts).
Yet there was an incredible charisma about Pope John Paul II—manifested in his world-wide pastoral visits and the beginning of World Youth Day. I was in Rome for World Youth Day 2000, and I cannot begin to describe to you the emotional and spiritual impact I felt in watching the Holy Father at the evening vigil at Tor Vergata. Nor will I ever forget watching the video of his climbing to the Western Wall in Jerusalem to place there a prayer asking forgiveness. And I will remember as long as I live the day he was shot and almost killed. I will savor with deep gratitude visual of his going to forgive and speak with Mehmet Ali Agca in prison. He was deeply in love with the Blessed Mother and the Church (perhaps in large part because of the loss of his own family at so young an age?). The devotion was infectious.
So do I have a “love-hate” relationship with Pope John Paul II? No. But I do have a “love-wait” relationship. Let history play itself out a bit longer, I would have said. But having said all that, John Paul II will forever also have an emotional place in my heart. After all, I sang for him! And I pray the inspiration he will effect in others’ hearts will be the full flower of his motto, Totus Tuus—I am completely yours, Lord: no matter what the cost.
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