I just wanted to share Pope Benedict's Easter Vigil homily, in case you have not read it. The faith-science theme is a remarkable one for a paschal liturgical setting!
If you came to the Belief Under Assault lectures SJEC sponsored several weeks ago, you would smile at the resonances between Dr. Baglow and Pope Benedict!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Risen, Gods, Surfing
Unrelenting joy
The Easter Octave continues, with every day being the Eighth Day of creation.
Celebrations of the whole Triduum all over the world teemed with anticipation and joy. Here is a sampling of a marvelous variety of voices, past and present:
Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here.
We all had our local celebration flavors, no doubt. Feel free to wax on about it below, if you care to.
Gods, Men
My wife and I saw the based-on-a-true-story Of Gods and Men at Varsity Monday eve.
Eight Isn't Enough
8 of us there in a the huge theater. If we want great, faith-saturated culture to emerge in our midst, we must support it. I highly encourage you to go!
Lovely, Liturgical
It was stunningly beautiful; wonderfully subtle in a European tradition of film. There was a thread of sung liturgy throughout the movie's unfolding dramatic events - a kind of liturgical procession toward a final hidden martyrdom. This was the most impactful part for me. Also, the monks were truly icons of a form of heroism accessible to those of us who fear the power of our own weakness were we to face the prospect of suffering and death for our faith.
Islam?
It also contained a powerful perspective on the role Islam played in these monks' fate - here are the final words of the 'Abbot' of the small community of monks (taken from his actual letter):
Should it ever befall me, and it could happen today, to be a victim of the terrorism swallowing up all foreigners here, I would like my community, my church, my family, to remember that my life was given to God and to his country. That the Unique Master of all life was no stranger to this brutal departure. And that my death is the same as so many other violent ones, consigned to the apathy of oblivion. I've lived enough to know, I am complicit in the evil that, alas, prevails over the world and the evil that will smite me blindly. I could never desire such a death. I could never feel gladdened that these people I love be accused randomly of my murder. I know the contempt felt for the people here, indiscriminately. And I know how Islam is distorted by a certain Islamism. This country, and Islam, for me are something different. They're a body and a soul. My death, of course, will quickly vindicate those who call me naïve or idealistic, but they must know that I will be freed of a burning curiosity and, God willing, will immerse my gaze in the Father's and contemplate with him his children of Islam as he sees them. This thank you which encompasses my entire life includes you, of course, friends of yesterday and today, and you too, friend of last minute, who knew not what you were doing. Yes, to you as well I address this thank you and this farewell which you envisaged. May we meet again, happy thieves in Paradise, if it pleases God the Father of us both. Amen. Insha'Allah.
Words sealed by his blood.
Surfing?
Also heard Soul Surfer was excellent, though of a different, American flavor. Next on my movie list.
Christ is risen! Alleluia!
The Easter Octave continues, with every day being the Eighth Day of creation.
Celebrations of the whole Triduum all over the world teemed with anticipation and joy. Here is a sampling of a marvelous variety of voices, past and present:
Here. Here. Here. Here. Here. Here.
We all had our local celebration flavors, no doubt. Feel free to wax on about it below, if you care to.
Gods, Men
My wife and I saw the based-on-a-true-story Of Gods and Men at Varsity Monday eve.
Eight Isn't Enough
8 of us there in a the huge theater. If we want great, faith-saturated culture to emerge in our midst, we must support it. I highly encourage you to go!
Lovely, Liturgical
It was stunningly beautiful; wonderfully subtle in a European tradition of film. There was a thread of sung liturgy throughout the movie's unfolding dramatic events - a kind of liturgical procession toward a final hidden martyrdom. This was the most impactful part for me. Also, the monks were truly icons of a form of heroism accessible to those of us who fear the power of our own weakness were we to face the prospect of suffering and death for our faith.
Islam?
It also contained a powerful perspective on the role Islam played in these monks' fate - here are the final words of the 'Abbot' of the small community of monks (taken from his actual letter):
Should it ever befall me, and it could happen today, to be a victim of the terrorism swallowing up all foreigners here, I would like my community, my church, my family, to remember that my life was given to God and to his country. That the Unique Master of all life was no stranger to this brutal departure. And that my death is the same as so many other violent ones, consigned to the apathy of oblivion. I've lived enough to know, I am complicit in the evil that, alas, prevails over the world and the evil that will smite me blindly. I could never desire such a death. I could never feel gladdened that these people I love be accused randomly of my murder. I know the contempt felt for the people here, indiscriminately. And I know how Islam is distorted by a certain Islamism. This country, and Islam, for me are something different. They're a body and a soul. My death, of course, will quickly vindicate those who call me naïve or idealistic, but they must know that I will be freed of a burning curiosity and, God willing, will immerse my gaze in the Father's and contemplate with him his children of Islam as he sees them. This thank you which encompasses my entire life includes you, of course, friends of yesterday and today, and you too, friend of last minute, who knew not what you were doing. Yes, to you as well I address this thank you and this farewell which you envisaged. May we meet again, happy thieves in Paradise, if it pleases God the Father of us both. Amen. Insha'Allah.
Words sealed by his blood.
Surfing?
Also heard Soul Surfer was excellent, though of a different, American flavor. Next on my movie list.
Christ is risen! Alleluia!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Resurrexit sicut dixit! Alleluia!
Wishes for a blessed resurrection Day!
Christ is risen!
Christos anesti!
He is risen indeed!
Alethos aneste!
In the East, this homily of St. John Chrysostom is proclaimed every year in the midst of today's Easter liturgy.
Nearer to home, know that Sunday's Comin'!
May we be living witnesses in this Easter Octave that God is joy.
A joyous Easter!
Christ is risen!
Christos anesti!
He is risen indeed!
Alethos aneste!
In the East, this homily of St. John Chrysostom is proclaimed every year in the midst of today's Easter liturgy.
Nearer to home, know that Sunday's Comin'!
May we be living witnesses in this Easter Octave that God is joy.
A joyous Easter!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday
“Evening came…”
This Day, with its eternal hours, is so haunting in its strange beauty as it mingles horror and glory, shame and mercy, jeers and psalms, violence and gentleness, torture and love, blood and water.
Today is suspended leaps to mind – an exquisite hymn of the Orthodox Church sung on this Day. Here it is in Arabic.
On the Cross an inversion invades reality: God places himself at the mercy of his creatures that creatures might be placed at the mercy of God.
O marvelous exchange!
On this Day Liturgy falls silent before the supreme liturgical act, as sacrificial worship is offered by God-made-flesh to God-Unbegotten.
Around Golgotha the cosmos spins, whirls in sacred dance as once did David with abandon.
God is slain.
Silent awe as we are granted access to the inner chambers of divine life!
Silent awe as violence unveils the human heart of God!
Silent awe as a lance unseals for us eternal fountains!
But let linger now, breathe deep of this Day that ends at sundown…
Weep o’er the disgrace,
shroud your eyes in shame;
marred, that deathless Face;
a worm, th’eternal Name.
Let us rest with God, for now at last his Sabbath has come.
Evening came, morning followed.
This Day, with its eternal hours, is so haunting in its strange beauty as it mingles horror and glory, shame and mercy, jeers and psalms, violence and gentleness, torture and love, blood and water.
Today is suspended leaps to mind – an exquisite hymn of the Orthodox Church sung on this Day. Here it is in Arabic.
On the Cross an inversion invades reality: God places himself at the mercy of his creatures that creatures might be placed at the mercy of God.
O marvelous exchange!
On this Day Liturgy falls silent before the supreme liturgical act, as sacrificial worship is offered by God-made-flesh to God-Unbegotten.
Around Golgotha the cosmos spins, whirls in sacred dance as once did David with abandon.
God is slain.
Silent awe as we are granted access to the inner chambers of divine life!
Silent awe as violence unveils the human heart of God!
Silent awe as a lance unseals for us eternal fountains!
But let linger now, breathe deep of this Day that ends at sundown…
Weep o’er the disgrace,
shroud your eyes in shame;
marred, that deathless Face;
a worm, th’eternal Name.
Let us rest with God, for now at last his Sabbath has come.
Evening came, morning followed.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Honor my friend
Kudos2U
I wanted to take a brief moment to honor a young man whom I had the great pleasure of coming to know years ago at Florida State University, Brandon Vogt. He is a convert to the Catholic faith from his beloved Methodist tradition, which gave to him a rich and vibrant love for Christ, for the Word of God and for a life of service to the poor.
In short, he is a man filled with the fire of living faith, haunted by the Muse, and consumed with a love for the Church's social vision for a just world.
He will be coming to Des Moines in late September to share his innumerable insights on how Catholics can effectively evangelize the Digital Continent by becoming savvy in using New Media. Keep your eyes on the SJEC website for details!
Check out his Blog, his book, his article, and his Vatican connection!
Brandon is a sign of the new generation of Catholics who see opportunities in human failure, and boldly proclaim dawn's promise at midnight. God bless him and his beautiful family!
I wanted to take a brief moment to honor a young man whom I had the great pleasure of coming to know years ago at Florida State University, Brandon Vogt. He is a convert to the Catholic faith from his beloved Methodist tradition, which gave to him a rich and vibrant love for Christ, for the Word of God and for a life of service to the poor.
In short, he is a man filled with the fire of living faith, haunted by the Muse, and consumed with a love for the Church's social vision for a just world.
He will be coming to Des Moines in late September to share his innumerable insights on how Catholics can effectively evangelize the Digital Continent by becoming savvy in using New Media. Keep your eyes on the SJEC website for details!
Check out his Blog, his book, his article, and his Vatican connection!
Brandon is a sign of the new generation of Catholics who see opportunities in human failure, and boldly proclaim dawn's promise at midnight. God bless him and his beautiful family!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Poetic paschal musings
As we enter deeper into this week's living memory of Christ's passover, I was stirred to remember in a form akin to poetry; though it is too unformed to be worthy of that name! For what it's worth...
Like a Dish Cast Down
In this world of shallow depths
what is fair to the eye, and clean
is held aloft in high esteem;
but what is broken, unpleasant to the eye
we shun, hide, judge worthily despised.
Thus God, to shatter such folly chose
to stoop lowly, from soaring height
downward into fragile womb enclosed
from whence arose laments, cries
labored into Judah's waning night.
Now see! be still and surely know
this Highest-made-low, love-crazed
to shatter our shackling chains
was bound, beaten, dazed;
led to the slaughter,
broken in a thousand ways;
Spirit gasping to breathe,
the Ancient of Days.
Love,
just and almighty Word
bloodied,
sullied,
spat on,
mocked;
crushed, pierced,
heartbeat no more...
silent death
as God slumped down to earth,
expended a final breath;
marred contours of clay,
Heart welling up, over
emptied into perfection;
icon of Triune life:
God from God,
One-shattered,
Substance wholly spilled
that an Other might Be.
For us:
broken, risen,
turned in ceaseless gaze
upon the Face
who ever-Begets Life;
pierced Hands outstretched still to earth
clasping the awestruck Grail
and breaking the living Bread;
super-Substantial food
that is our rising from the dead.
Like a Dish Cast Down
In this world of shallow depths
what is fair to the eye, and clean
is held aloft in high esteem;
but what is broken, unpleasant to the eye
we shun, hide, judge worthily despised.
Thus God, to shatter such folly chose
to stoop lowly, from soaring height
downward into fragile womb enclosed
from whence arose laments, cries
labored into Judah's waning night.
Now see! be still and surely know
this Highest-made-low, love-crazed
to shatter our shackling chains
was bound, beaten, dazed;
led to the slaughter,
broken in a thousand ways;
Spirit gasping to breathe,
the Ancient of Days.
Love,
just and almighty Word
bloodied,
sullied,
spat on,
mocked;
crushed, pierced,
heartbeat no more...
silent death
as God slumped down to earth,
expended a final breath;
marred contours of clay,
Heart welling up, over
emptied into perfection;
icon of Triune life:
God from God,
One-shattered,
Substance wholly spilled
that an Other might Be.
For us:
broken, risen,
turned in ceaseless gaze
upon the Face
who ever-Begets Life;
pierced Hands outstretched still to earth
clasping the awestruck Grail
and breaking the living Bread;
super-Substantial food
that is our rising from the dead.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Great Week, Holy Week
The cross stands while the world revolves
It's here. This week is the center around which human and cosmic history revolves, and in our liturgical celebrations we have the awe-inspiring chance to step right into this center and taste of its revolutionary force.
Eternal dreams
Our 'sacramental' imagination needs to come alive so that the liturgy's time-eroding power can infest us with its capacity to make past events into real presence.
Fragrant
On Monday we will stand in the home of Jesus' dearest friends and smell the sweet fragrance of Mary of Bethany's lavishly wasted perfume as it drenches Jesus' feet and soaks into her own hair. I imagine when she goes to his tomb several days later, that smell in her hair will serve as a powerful reminder of her passionate act of love for Jesus.
Kyrie Eleison
On Tuesday, we will suddenly find ourselves in the Upper Room at the Last Supper; that Mystical Supper where bread and wine are the first elements to taste of the "passing over" of this creation into the dawning glory of the New Creation. OMG.
The disciples feet are freshly washed, cleansed by God in the "form of a slave." Judas' mind is lost in his scheme for Jesus' arrest, while Jesus' mind is "deeply troubled." When Judas slips out into the night to betray his friend, Jesus declares that the light of divine glory has begun to dawn. Why? Because divine glory precisely finds its brightest radiance when that love encounters evil and has chance to become something wholly new: mercy.
One of our Eucharistic prayers alludes to this when it says, "When we were lost and could not find the way to you, you loved us more than ever." Mercy is that "more" of love, as mercy stretches love to the breaking point; or, to use a striking phrase dear to St. Catherine of Siena, mercy stretches divine love to the point of "madness".
In her own words, God is "Pazzo d'amore, ebro d'amore!" - crazed with love, drunk with love for us.
Come, let us worship.
With that I will end my thoughts, and bid you a joyous and life-transforming Week of Awe.
It's here. This week is the center around which human and cosmic history revolves, and in our liturgical celebrations we have the awe-inspiring chance to step right into this center and taste of its revolutionary force.
Eternal dreams
Our 'sacramental' imagination needs to come alive so that the liturgy's time-eroding power can infest us with its capacity to make past events into real presence.
Fragrant
On Monday we will stand in the home of Jesus' dearest friends and smell the sweet fragrance of Mary of Bethany's lavishly wasted perfume as it drenches Jesus' feet and soaks into her own hair. I imagine when she goes to his tomb several days later, that smell in her hair will serve as a powerful reminder of her passionate act of love for Jesus.
Kyrie Eleison
On Tuesday, we will suddenly find ourselves in the Upper Room at the Last Supper; that Mystical Supper where bread and wine are the first elements to taste of the "passing over" of this creation into the dawning glory of the New Creation. OMG.
The disciples feet are freshly washed, cleansed by God in the "form of a slave." Judas' mind is lost in his scheme for Jesus' arrest, while Jesus' mind is "deeply troubled." When Judas slips out into the night to betray his friend, Jesus declares that the light of divine glory has begun to dawn. Why? Because divine glory precisely finds its brightest radiance when that love encounters evil and has chance to become something wholly new: mercy.
One of our Eucharistic prayers alludes to this when it says, "When we were lost and could not find the way to you, you loved us more than ever." Mercy is that "more" of love, as mercy stretches love to the breaking point; or, to use a striking phrase dear to St. Catherine of Siena, mercy stretches divine love to the point of "madness".
In her own words, God is "Pazzo d'amore, ebro d'amore!" - crazed with love, drunk with love for us.
Come, let us worship.
With that I will end my thoughts, and bid you a joyous and life-transforming Week of Awe.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Silence, broken
It has been a long while since I last posted a Blog, as my work and family commitments have been set on warp speed.
So much to talk about these days in the Church's Liturgy as we come toward the end of Lent and the beginning of those 'days of awe' that we call Holy Week.
I will venture a few random thoughts.
Divine Sign-language
Yesterday at Mass the divine Word proclaimed in St. John's Gospel presented to our mind's eye that sixth 'sign' performed by Jesus before his Passion: the raising of Lazarus from the dead. In John's Gospel, all of the seven signs Jesus 'performs' in one way or another manifest the source, meaning and power of those two primal sacraments of initiation: Baptism and Eucharist. Take a gander.
1. Changing Water Into Wine (John 2:1-11)
2. Healing the Royal Official's Son (John 4:46-54)
3. Healing the paralytic at the pool (John 5:1-18)
4. Feeding over 5,000 with fish and loaves (John 6:1-14)
5. Healing a man born blind (John 9:1-41)
6. Raising Lazarus from the dead (John 11:1-46)
7. Flowing blood and water coming from Jesus' open side (John 19:33-35)
The verbs that accompany each sign offer an insight into the life-giving dynamism of those two sacraments, and the narratives in which those signs are embedded burgeon with insight and meaning into the existential flavor of what a living encounter with Christ looks, sounds, feels, tastes, smells like.
In fact, one can read John's entire Gospel as an extended meditation on Baptism and Eucharist as the principle means of coming into koinonia with the risen Christ - koinonia being that rich Greek word that means something like communion, or a common-sharing of all of one's life and goods with another.
Baptismal Blooms
In Baptism we were entombed in a watery grave with Christ, only to be at once raised up again with Christ to new life. The rest of our life is to be an extended commentary on that single sacramental event, an unfolding of the tightly wrapped rose-bud that grace plants within us in Baptism.
The world will be saved only by the beauty we allow to bloom within us.
I See
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
- Joseph Mary Plunkett
So much to talk about these days in the Church's Liturgy as we come toward the end of Lent and the beginning of those 'days of awe' that we call Holy Week.
I will venture a few random thoughts.
Divine Sign-language
Yesterday at Mass the divine Word proclaimed in St. John's Gospel presented to our mind's eye that sixth 'sign' performed by Jesus before his Passion: the raising of Lazarus from the dead. In John's Gospel, all of the seven signs Jesus 'performs' in one way or another manifest the source, meaning and power of those two primal sacraments of initiation: Baptism and Eucharist. Take a gander.
1. Changing Water Into Wine (John 2:1-11)
2. Healing the Royal Official's Son (John 4:46-54)
3. Healing the paralytic at the pool (John 5:1-18)
4. Feeding over 5,000 with fish and loaves (John 6:1-14)
5. Healing a man born blind (John 9:1-41)
6. Raising Lazarus from the dead (John 11:1-46)
7. Flowing blood and water coming from Jesus' open side (John 19:33-35)
The verbs that accompany each sign offer an insight into the life-giving dynamism of those two sacraments, and the narratives in which those signs are embedded burgeon with insight and meaning into the existential flavor of what a living encounter with Christ looks, sounds, feels, tastes, smells like.
In fact, one can read John's entire Gospel as an extended meditation on Baptism and Eucharist as the principle means of coming into koinonia with the risen Christ - koinonia being that rich Greek word that means something like communion, or a common-sharing of all of one's life and goods with another.
Baptismal Blooms
In Baptism we were entombed in a watery grave with Christ, only to be at once raised up again with Christ to new life. The rest of our life is to be an extended commentary on that single sacramental event, an unfolding of the tightly wrapped rose-bud that grace plants within us in Baptism.
The world will be saved only by the beauty we allow to bloom within us.
I See
I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice—and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.
- Joseph Mary Plunkett
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