One Year Anniversary Post

With my brother Russell, under the cross, 1956, Florida

Today is the one year anniversary of the blog, Reflections on the Philosopher Pope. I wish to thank those readers whom I know and those whom I do not know for taking the time to read it. I thank those who have offered posts on the heritage of the Pope John Paul II. I also wish to thank my family for their patience when I stayed up  late to finish a post. The richness of the heritage of the Philosopher Pope has inspired 300 posts during this year.

For my first post I used a picture from my childhood taken on a beach in Hawaii (1964) -- I spoke of John Paul II's image of the "reef" out beyond beyond the shore, the reef of the cross, against which reason may falter and crash, or find a footing to move out into the open sea. I have tried to avoid the coral rock; I have done much swimming in the deep and sometimes rough water. For this anniversary post I share a picture from a family visit to St Augustine, Florida in 1956; my brother and I sit beneath  the cross and the heritage of the great Spanish mission to the new world.

Last year Good Friday fell on this date, March 31. Now we are still on the Lenten journey. The cross still beckons. Its wisdom is like a spring welling up to eternal life. I share again this fundamental idea and challenge from the Philosopher Pope as the inspiration for this blog:

The wisdom of the Cross, therefore, breaks free of all cultural limitations which seek to contain it and insists upon an openness to the universality of the truth which it bears. What a challenge this is to our reason, and how great the gain for reason if it yields to this wisdom! Of itself, philosophy is able to recognize the human being's ceaselessly self-transcendent orientation towards the truth; and, with the assistance of faith, it is capable of accepting the “foolishness” of the Cross as the authentic critique of those who delude themselves that they possess the truth, when in fact they run it aground on the shoals of a system of their own devising. The preaching of Christ crucified and risen is the reef upon which the link between faith and philosophy can break up, but it is also the reef beyond which the two can set forth upon the boundless ocean of truth. Here we see not only the border between reason and faith, but also the space where the two may meet. Fides et ratio §23

The Philosopher Pope will be beatified on May 1 2011, Divine Mercy Sunday, the week after Easter Sunday. The Pope John Paul II Forum will co=sponsor a special celebration on the campus of the University of St Thomas. Please look at our website for details (www.jp2forum.org)

Please pray to John Paul II for the new evangelization and for the Pope John Paul II Forum for the Church in the Modern World.

Yours in Christ

John Hittinger
Director, Pope John Paul II Forum
"Totus tuus"

John Paul II on Youth

World Youth Day, Denver

"As a young priest I learned to love human love. This has been one of the fundamental themes of my priesthood -- my ministry in the pulpit, in the confessional, and in my writing. If one loves human love, there naturally arises the need to commit oneself completely to the service of 'fair love,' because love is fair, it is beautiful."  
from Crossing the Threshold of Hope

In the chapter "Is there really hope in the young?" John Paul II discusses his life long work with the youth and why he discovered such hope in the young. He was committed to walking with them -- he said the youth were open to relating to, even seeking out, authority figures if "they [could] see in them a wealth of human warmth and a willingness to walk with them along the paths they are following." He did that throughout his life as a priest, bishop and Pope. He came to love human love -- that is clear in his writings. It is a dominant theme of Redemptor hominis, Love and Responsibility and The Jeweler's Shop. Human love, he said, ultimately seeks transcendence.

Love was the theme, love was the bond, of his priesthood. Thus he said, "It is this vocation to love that naturally allows us to draw close to the young." Vocation as such arises from love: "In life, youth is when we come to know ourselves. It is also a time of communion. Young people, whether boys or girls, know they must live for and with others, they know that their life has meaning to the extent that it becomes a free gift for others. Here is the origin of all vocations-whether to priesthood or religious life, or to marriage and family."

John Paul II gives sage advice to all parents, pastors, and mentors:

What is youth? It is not only a period of life that corresponds to a certain number of years, it is also a time given by Providence to every person and given to him as a responsibility. During that time he searches, like the young man in the Gospel, for answers to basic questions; he searches not only for the meaning of life but also for a concrete way to go about living his life. This is the most fundamental characteristic of youth. Every mentor, beginning with parents, let alone every pastor, must be aware of this characteristic and must know how to identify it in every boy and girl. I will say more: He must love this fundamental aspect of youth.

 The young person is a searcher; they want to know "the meaning of life." We may look askance at such a search, or downplay its significance. But John Paul II points out that prior generations such as his had established reference points in their culture, acknowledgment of moral norms, the existence of God, the parables and teaching of the Gospel. Such cultural forms of transcendence, combined with the heroic lives led by many in the circumstances of world war II, pointed the way and inspired Wojtyla as a young man.

But today, he says the young enjoy a freedom won by others and they are given a culture of consumerism. The heroic call is harder to discern. In Fides et ratio the Pope is very critical of the teachers of the youth. He mentions their failure to establish signs of meaning and transcendence:

For it is undeniable that this time of rapid and complex change can leave especially the younger generation, to whom the future belongs and on whom it depends, with a sense that they have no valid points of reference. The need for a foundation for personal and communal life becomes all the more pressing at a time when we are faced with the patent inadequacy of perspectives in which the ephemeral is affirmed as a value and the possibility of discovering the real meaning of life is cast into doubt. This is why many people stumble through life to the very edge of the abyss without knowing where they are going. At times, this happens because those whose vocation it is to give cultural expression to their thinking no longer look to truth, preferring quick success to the toil of patient enquiry into what makes life worth living. Fides et ratio §6

The youth need teachers to live the vocation to give "cultural expression" to transcendence, to pass along to the youth the "valid points of reference" for their life's decisions.


John Paul II had great hope because the young sought him out and they recognized the call to love. "Young people are always searching for the beauty in love. They want their love to be beautiful. If they give in to weakness, following models of behavior that can rightly be considered a 'scandal in the contemporary world' (and these are, unfortunately, widely diffused models), in the depths of their hearts they still desire a beautiful and pure love. This is as true of boys as it is of girls. Ultimately, they know that only God can give them this love. As a result, they are willing to follow Christ, without caring about the sacrifices this may entail."


The young sought him out because they sought Christ. In fact he said that the youth invented World Youth Day, not the Vatican. "No one invented the World Youth Days. It was the young people themselves who created them. Those Days, those encounters, then became something desired by young people throughout the world. Most of the time these Days were something of a surprise for priests, and even bishops." John Paul II recognized in the young "an immense potential for good and for creative possibility."  He taught them, yes, but he could draw near to them because he would listen: Whenever I meet them in my travels throughout the world, I wait first of all to hear what they want to tell me about themselves, about their society, about their Church." John Paul II reminded the reader that on the very day of "the inauguration of my papal ministry, on October 22, 1978, at the conclusion of the liturgy, I said to the young people gathered in St. Peter's Square: 'You are the hope of the Church and of the world. You are my hope.'"


His hope was not disappointed. The young he touched and influenced are continuing to respond to vocation to priesthood and religious life, and to the call to fair love in marriage.


He recognized that "the young are searching for God, they are searching for the meaning of life, they are searching for definitive answers." He was not afraid to share the gospel with them and to lay out the full demands of the Gospel. He also led them to see "that they perceive Christ in the Church, Christ who walks through the centuries alongside each generation, alongside every person. He walks alongside each person as a friend." Friendship with Christ. That is what the youth need most of all. How true are the Pope's concluding sentence in this chapter: "An important day in a young person's life is the day on which he becomes convinced that this is the only Friend who will not disappoint him, on whom he can always count." I hope that we can bring the young to know this friendship.


In 2000, at the mount of the beatitudes, John Paul II ended his homily to youth with a simple and direct prayer to Jesus, containing very similar sentiments:

Listen to these generous young hearts! Continue to teach these young people the truth of the Commandments and the Beatitudes! Make them joyful witnesses to your truth and convinced apostles of your Kingdom! Be with them always, especially when following you and the Gospel becomes difficult and demanding! You will be their strength; you will be their victory! O Lord Jesus, you have made these young people your friends: keep them for ever close to you! Amen.

John Paul II warned against the "Gospel of Winning" a la Charlie Sheen

In Crossing the Threshold of Hope, John Paul II speaks about "Is there really hope in the young?" He explains his close connection to the youth throughout his ministry. He said this: "anywhere the Pope goes, he seeks out the young and the young seek him out. Actually, in truth, it is not the Pope who is being sought out at all. The one being sought out is Christ, who knows 'that which is in every man' (cf. Jn 2:25), especially in a young person, and who can give true answers to his questions! And even if they are demanding answers, the young are not afraid of them; more to the point, they even await them."

Forum advisor Mitchell Thomas found a powerful homily given by Pope John Paul II to the young from the mount of the beatitudes. Almost exactly 11 years ago (March 24 2000) the Venerable John Paul II walked the hills of the Holy land and spoke to the young people. (Entire homily is here) It stands in stark contrast to the gospel of winning preached by Mr. Charlie Sheen whose words and actions reveal  the true gospel of Hollywood -- "happy are the exceedingly wealthy and wasteful, happy are the self-assertive, happy are those who laugh with scorn as they drink Tiger Blood, happy are those who thirst after fame, happy are the mean and revengeful,  happy are the lustful, happy are those who fuel dissension. and happy are you when the press persecutes you for all publicity is good publicity." His father, Martin Sheen, asks us to pray for Charlie: “We lift him up and we ask everyone who cares about him to lift him up and lift up all of those who are in the grip of drug and alcohol abuse,” Martin continued. “Because they too are looking for transcendence.”

The  Holy Father warns us against the voice of the evil one and then points us to the truth. John Paul anticipated this false gospel-- in 2000 he identifies the Screwtape of such sentiments -- “Yes”, says the voice of evil, “they are the ones who win. Happy are they!”

 To the youth John Paul offers true hope and the challenge the true gospel will bring -- "His call has always demanded a choice between the two voices competing for your heart."

“Blessed are you!”, he says, “all you who are poor in spirit, gentle and merciful, you who mourn, who care for what is right, who are pure in heart, who make peace, you who are persecuted! Blessed are you!” But the words of Jesus may seem strange. It is strange that Jesus exalts those whom the world generally regards as weak. He says to them, “Blessed are you who seem to be losers, because you are the true winners: the kingdom of heaven is yours!” Spoken by him who is “gentle and humble in heart” (Mt 11:29), these words present a challenge which demands a deep and abiding metanoia of the spirit, a great change of heart.

You young people will understand why this change of heart is necessary! Because you are aware of another voice within you and all around you, a contradictory voice. It is a voice which says, “Blessed are the proud and violent, those who prosper at any cost, who are unscrupulous, pitiless, devious, who make war not peace, and persecute those who stand in their way”. And this voice seems to make sense in a world where the violent often triumph and the devious seem to succeed. “Yes”, says the voice of evil, “they are the ones who win. Happy are they!”

Jesus offers a very different message. Not far from this very place Jesus called his first disciples, as he calls you now. His call has always demanded a choice between the two voices competing for your hearts even now on this hill, the choice between good and evil, between life and death. Which voice will the young people of the twenty-first century choose to follow? To put your faith in Jesus means choosing to believe what he says, no matter how strange it may seem, and choosing to reject the claims of evil, no matter how sensible or attractive they may seem.

You hear his voice on this hill, and you believe what he says. But like the first disciples at the Sea of Galilee, you must leave your boats and nets behind, and that is never easy – especially when you face an uncertain future and are tempted to lose faith in your Christian heritage. To be good Christians may seem beyond your strength in today’s world. But Jesus does not stand by and leave you alone to face the challenge. He is always with you to transform your weakness into strength. Trust him when he says: “My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9)!.  .  .  .

 For two thousand years Christ’s followers have carried out this mission. Now, at the dawn of the Third Millennium, it is your turn. It is your turn to go out into the world to preach the message of the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes. When God speaks, he speaks of things which have the greatest importance for each person, for the people of the twenty-first century no less than those of the first century. The Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes speak of truth and goodness, of grace and freedom: of all that is necessary to enter into Christ’s Kingdom. Now it is your turn to be courageous apostles of that Kingdom!

Young people of the Holy Land, Young people of the world: answer the Lord with a heart that is willing and open! Willing and open, like the heart of the greatest daughter of Galilee, Mary, the Mother of Jesus. How did she respond? She said: “I am the servant of the Lord, let it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38).

O Lord Jesus Christ, in this place that you knew and loved so well, listen to these generous young hearts! Continue to teach these young people the truth of the Commandments and the Beatitudes! Make them joyful witnesses to your truth and convinced apostles of your Kingdom! Be with them always, especially when following you and the Gospel becomes difficult and demanding! You will be their strength; you will be their victory!

Israel – Korazim, Mount of the Beatitudes
Friday, 24 March 2000

 JUBILEE PILGRIMAGE OF HIS HOLINESS JOHN PAUL II  TO THE HOLY LAND

Pope John Paul II on the Annunciation, pt 2

A "burning charity" for souls

In Part III of The Mother of the Redeemer, on Maternal Mediation, Pope John Paul returns to the significance of this moment within the mystery of the Annunciation: "The first moment of submission to the one mediation 'between God and men' -- the mediation of Jesus Christ -- is the Virgin of Nazareth's acceptance of motherhood. Mary consents to God's choice, in order to become through the power of the Holy Spirit the Mother of the Son of God."

The deep significance of the "Fiat" is that not only did Mary's consent usher in the "fullness of time," her consent was the first and best model of submission to the mediation in Christ. John Paul II notes that Mary's virginity (total consecration to God -- "Ecce") fuses with her motherhood ("Fiat").

It can be said that a consent to motherhood is above all a result of her total self-giving to God in virginity. Mary accepted her election as Mother of the Son of God, guided by spousal love, the love which totally "consecrates" a human being to God. By virtue of this love, Mary wished to be always and in all things "given to God," living in virginity. The words "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord" express the fact that from the outset she accepted and understood her own motherhood as a total gift of self, a gift of her person to the service of the saving plans of the Most High. And to the very end she lived her entire maternal sharing in the life of Jesus Christ, her Son, in a way that matched her vocation to virginity. III.§39

He says that the Church has great trust in Mary as our Mother and her motherhood the Church continually "commends to the hearts of the faithful." Mary's motherhood is "completely pervaded by her spousal attitude as the 'handmaid of the Lord.'" And her election to the supreme office and dignity of Mother of the Son of God is "on the ontological level," because it refers "to the very reality of the union of the two natures in the person of the Word (hypostatic union)." As the Mother of the Son of God, Mary  "from the very beginning [possesses] a complete openness to the person of Christ, to his whole work, to his whole mission."

For this reason, Pope John Paul II explains, "Mary became not only the 'nursing mother' of the Son of Man but also the 'associate of unique nobility' of the Messiah and Redeemer."  For "she advanced in her pilgrimage of faith, and in this pilgrimage to the foot of the Cross there was simultaneously accomplished her maternal cooperation with the Savior's whole mission through her actions and sufferings." All this is contained in that first moment of the "Fullness of time," the Annunciation. For good reason is she the "Star of the New Evangelization," as John Paul II refers to her "burning charity":

Along the path of this collaboration with the work of her Son, the Redeemer, Mary's motherhood itself underwent a singular transformation, becoming ever more imbued with "burning charity" towards all those to whom Christ's mission was directed. Through this "burning charity," which sought to achieve, in union with Christ, the restoration of "supernatural life to souls."

The recent Vatican "lineamenta" for the upcoming synod on evangelization also connects the annunciation and evangelization (use this link): "the first evangelization began on the day of Pentecost, when the Apostles, gathered together in prayer with the Mother of Christ, received the Holy Spirit. In this way, Mary, who according to the words of the Archangel is 'full of grace', was present during apostolic evangelization and continues to be present in those places where the successors of the Apostles strive to proclaim the Gospel." §23

The Annunication and the first moment of the fullness of time

Henry Tanner, Annunciation, 1898, Philadelphia Museum of Art

In the beginning of his encyclical letter Mother of the Redeemer, Pope John Paul II explores the mystery of "the fullness of time." The first sentence reads: "The Mother of the Redeemer has a precise place in the plan of salvation, for 'when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!"' (Gal. 4:4-6)."

In a footnote John Paul explains "the expression 'fullness of time' (pleroma tou chronou) is parallel with similar expressions of Judaism, both Biblical (cf. Gen. 29:21; 1 Sam. 7:12; Tob. 14:5) and extra-Biblical, and especially of the New Testament (cf. Mk. 1:15; Lk. 21:24; Jn. 7:8; Eph. 1:10). From the point of view of form, it means not only the conclusion of a chronological process but also and especially the coming to maturity or completion of a particularly important period, one directed towards the fulfillment of an expectation, a coming to completion which thus takes on an eschatological dimension. According to Gal. 4:4 and its context, it is the coming of the Son of God that reveals that time has, so to speak, reached its limit." 

The first moment of the fulfillment of time "marks the moment when the Holy Spirit, who had already infused the fullness of grace into Mary of Nazareth, formed in her virginal womb the human nature of Christ." The moment begins at the Annunciation with the "Ecce/Fiat" of Mary.

John Paul reminds us the full significance of this moment: "This 'fullness' marks the moment when, with the entrance of the eternal into time, time itself is redeemed, and being filled with the mystery of Christ becomes definitively 'salvation time.'" §1 St. Elizabeth spoke for all human beings when he said: "Blessed art thou amongst women."

John Paul II reminds us as well that this moment at the Annunciation "designates the hidden beginning of the Church's journey." Introduction §1

Pope John Paul II and the Way through the Post Conciliar Confusion

Pope Benedict XVI recently said: “In practically all his documents, and especially in his decisions and his behaviour as Pontiff, John Paul II  accepted the fundamental petitions of the Second Vatican Council thus becoming a qualified interpreter and coherent witness of it.” This is an important statement by the Holy Father, so I will repeat it: John Paul II is “a qualified interpreter and coherent witness” of Vatican II. I repeat it because the chief problem of Vatican II is that too many who were not qualified have interpreted the Council incorrectly and the Church was made to suffer a long train of abuses at the hands  incoherent or confused prophets of the “new Church.”

The long train of abuses are all too familiar. We need not spend too much time on it lest we make ourselves depressed. One could begin with liturgy. There was an overall loss of reverence by the faithful, explicit denials of the real presence, and undue emphasis upon a communal meal; there were dignity masses, feminist masses, clown masses; you could find dancing up the aisles, dancing and cavorting with liturgical books, and even dancing around the altar; one could hear home spun canons and made up prayers; one could hear rock music, drum music, polka music. Not surprisingly, Mass attendance has plummeted, and participation in the sacrament of penance even more neglected. There has been tremendous confusion about essential doctrines: the divinity of Christ, the miracles of Christ, the nature and need of sacraments, the understanding of sin and the need for penance, the teaching on marriage, family and birth control; heaven, hell and purgatory. We have seen confusion about priestly identity and the role of the laity.  There were priests who want to engage in politics and revolutionary action and others sought to become psychotherapists (see Walker Percy's Lancelot -- "neither fish nor fowl"; and lay people wanted to be on the altar and take over the administration of the parish from the pastor. Catholic politicians set out to lecture the bishops about the true meaning of abortion and birth control. Catholic education sought to emulate the secular schools, with the universities looking to the ivy league schools for a standard of excellence and for academic freedom. Catechetics often abandoned memorization and teaching of doctrine for affective results and social justice.

This is probably a sufficient list to make the case that the post-Vatican II era was a time of great confusion, and as Pope Benedict XVI said, we found an “incoherent witness” to the Catholic faith in the modern world.

At the outset, we must say that Vatican Council did not cause these events; in fact, when serving as Cardinal prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, Cardinal Ratzinger pointed out that we must not make the logical mistake of attributing to the council all that followed it; logicians speak about the fallacy of “post hoc, ergo propter hoc,” or after this, therefore becaue of this. Indeed, there could be causes more fundamental that cause the disarray. In fact, in the Ratzinger Report we find this statement: “the damage that we have incurred in these twenty years is due, not to the true Council, but to the unleashing within the Church of latent polemical and centrifugal forces; and outside the Church it is due to the confrontation with the cultural revolution in the West,” particularly the “liberal radical ideology of individualistic, rationalistic and hedonistic stamp.” (Ratzinger Report, p. 30) His message then, in 1985, was not to ‘turn back’ but to “return to the authentic texts of the original Vatican II.” In this report we first encounter the notion of a hermeneutic of continuity between Vatican II and the prior councils. And indeed, Pope John Paul II was foremost in establishing the continuity and the authentic interpretation of the meaning of the council. For good reason therefore does Pope Benedict refer to him not only as a “coherent witness” but also as a (if not THE) qualified interpreter of Vatican II.

I think that then Cardinal Ratzinger was correct to see much of the confusion derived from the upsurge of the cultural ideology of the sixties which has now become all but regnant throughout the west and gaining ground across the globe. But much of the post-conciliar confusion could be traced back to a distorted interpretation of the meaning of Vatican II. The sixties were met more than half way by many within the Church. Many were propounding a one sided if not false view of the council on multiple points. These include: (i) the very intention of the council was to update and make the Church “relevant” by abandoning the old doctrines and practices and to understand the faith in light of modern times; (ii) the Church was taken to be “the people of God” understood as a non-hierarchical, horizontal community; (iii) authority was redefined as a co-magisterium and conscience was exalted to a creative status; (iv) the participation of the laity was understood to mean they must function in ministry as priests or alongside them in the activities of the sanctuary; (v) spirituality was redefined in terms of pastoral compassion without truth or without the cross; (vi) sacraments were reconceived with the Eucharist as meal and penance made irrelevant because of the denial of mortal sin; (vii) the social doctrine of the Church was taken as a call to direct social action and political liberation.

Let's consider the first point -- the intention of the Council. The intention of the council was not to invent a new religion, abandon the heritage, or change the basic message of the Church. The very call for a council was stated as follows: “The greatest concern of an ecumenical council is that the sacred deposit of Christian doctrine be guarded and taught by more effective understanding.” (Pope  John XXIII) The first document approved stated the intention as follows: “The sacred Council has set out to impart an ever- increasing vigor  to  the  Christian  life  of  the  faithful; to adapt more  closely  to  the  needs  of  our age those institutions which are  subject to change; to foster whatever can promote union among all  who  believe  in  Christ; to strengthen whatever can help to call  all   mankind  into  the  Church's  fold.” (On Liturgy, §1). And at the close of the Council Paul VI said : “But our council hands down to posterity .  .  . the patrimony of her doctrine and precepts, the deposit entrusted to her by Christ himself. Her people have constantly reflected on this deposit through the centuries  and have turned it into their own flesh and blood, as it were, by giving it expression in their way of life. This deposit of faith is now illuminated in so many of its parts and has come to be  established and arranged in its fullness and integrity. This living deposit of faith constituted by the divine power of truth and grace  is capable of giving life to everyone who receives it devoutly and  by it nourishes his own life.” (Paul VI, Closing Homily) The deposit of faith is a stable, rich and unchanging source of Catholic truth. Pope Paul VI closed the council with this praise of the enduring riches of the Catholic Church, now to be made more accessible to men and women the modern world. No wonder he wept when he heard of the liberal subversion of the Council before the ink on the documents was dry. No wonder his mentor Jacques Maritain issued a denunciation of the pathetic trend of Catholics “kneeling before the world” and abandoning the teaching of Thomas Aquinas. No wonder Pope Paul VI said he smelled the very smoke of Satan in the Vatican. Pope Paul VI held the line against the subversion and misinterpretations on the theological front with his post-conciliar writings; see especially Pope Paul VI, On the Mystery of Faith (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966) and On Saints Peter and Paul (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1967) and The Credo of the People of God. (see this article on Paul VI and Maritain). And of course he had to stand down the great expectations of the western laity for a change in the teaching on artificial birth control, Humanae vitae, for which he was crucified. And he outlined the great positive vision for the Church in his encyclicals on the Church and on Evangelization.

Pope John Paul II inherited a Church in great disarray. God granted him one of the longest pontificates in the history of the Church to get the Church back on track and to cultivate and nurture the seeds of true renewal. 

He expressed a deep appreciation of the importance and meaning of Vatican II. On February 27, 2000 he said that "Vatican II Was the Spirit's Gift to the Church." He emphasized the continuity with the past and the central goal was evangelization, making the deposit of faith more effectively taught and lived. “We can say that in its rich variety of teaching the Second Vatican Council contains precisely all that "the Spirit says to the Churches" with regard to the present phase of the history of salvation. (On The Holy Spirit in the Life of the Church and World, §26); and “Many passages of this document indicate clearly that the Council, by opening itself to the light of the Spirit of truth, is seen to be the authentic depositary of the predictions and promises made by Christ to the Apostles and to the Church in the farewell discourse.” §29 He spoke of Vatican II and its teaching on the lay faithful as having a “prophetic significance.” (On the Lay Faithful, §2). Most decisively he held a synod in 1985, at the 20th anniversary of the council, to establish the true meaning and agenda of the Vatican Council. The message of the Second Vatican Council has already been welcomed with great accord by the whole Church, and it remains the "Magna Charta" for the future.” (1985 Extraordinary Synod).

Wojtyla's Poetry, Shores of Silence, continued

A Continued Meditation on the Shores of Silence by Karol Wojtyla
by Mitchell Thomas, member John Paul II Forum advisory board

In such silence I hide,
A leaf released from the wind,
no longer anxious for days that fall.
They must all fall, I know.

In such silence I hide .  .  .

 Pope John Paul II was no naïve optimist.  He knew the dangers of life, but to avoid the risk at all cost is to rule out our humanity.  Life would move him to throw himself upon the Lord and hide in the silence of prayer.  He knew that by virtue of our Baptism, we have been baptized into the death of Christ.  But we are not only baptized into His death but by the virtue of the same we share in His Rising, provided we preserver to the end.  Because he is hidden in Christ he know himself to be --

A leaf released from the wind, no longer anxious for days that fall.
They must all fall, I know.

He experiences the liberation of being released.  Released from what?  He is released from that feeling of disorientation, of being blown about by the happening of life.  What follows confirms our view that he holds a mature spiritual realism because he knows that the days before him,

They must all fall .  .  .

How differently we assess things.  Liberation would be the complete impossibility of the falling day.  But on this side of Heaven such a thing is not possible.  The attempt of eliminate the falling day, however well intended, all end with the Devil’s Bargain mentioned above all.  Man is homo viator (i.e. man the wayfarer).  As Augustine remarked, in this present life we have no lasting city.  With such an understanding one does not erect a blockade to life.  Wisdom knows that behind the falling days, there is the Real, the Eternal- the Triune God.  In such wisdom one is no longer anxious because of the love that is in the heart one sees things arranged according to Truth. 

This sort of seeing and understanding that comes from accepting the offer of Love without having to have the assurance that no trouble will happen confront us.  Understanding this, is it any wonder that John Paul II had such a deep devotion to Our Lady. He knew that Our Lady is an impeccable lover of Wisdom.  Before the falling day she has not an argument, an ideology, or a system but an example to give.  She is the true philosopher because twice we are told when the mysteries of life arose before here, “she kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.” (Lk 1:19 and cf. also Lk. 1:49-51) Her life was a continual Fiat, even with the knowledge that a sword would pierce her soul as well (would she not have felt the lance pierced her Son’s side?).  Though she knew not the manner, Mary was aware that the days must fall.  She did not seek to mitigate the risk but kept all in her heart .  .  . a heart completely open to God.  She is our Model. John Paul II ends his encyclical Fides et ratio with this prayer: "May Mary, Seat of Wisdom, be a sure haven for all who devote their lives to the search for wisdom. May their journey into wisdom, sure and final goal of all true knowing, be freed of every hindrance by the intercession of the one who, in giving birth to the Truth and treasuring it in her heart, has shared it forever with all the world."

Wojtyla was the philosopher’s philosopher. His poetry shows, if we take the name seriously, philosophy is never meant to exist in arguments only.  If that is understood to be the only basis of philosophy it will only be a matter of time until in degenerates into Sophistry.   As Plato and Aristotle remind us Philosophy best exists in conversation among friends. The true philosopher’s stone, transforming the base into the precious, is love.  Love is the interpreter of reality. Love is reality (1 Jn. 4:8b).  

Wojtyla's Poetry, Shores of Silence

A Continued Meditation on the Shores of Silence by Karol Wojtyla
by Mitchell Thomas, member John Paul II Forum advisory board

Love explained all for me
all was resolved by love,
So this love I adore
wherever it may be.

I am an open space for a placid tide
Where no wave roars, clutching at rainbow branches
now a soothing wave uncovers light in the deep
and breathes light onto unsilvered leaves.

In such silence I hide,
A leaf released from the wind,
no longer anxious for days that fall.
They must all fall, I know.

In our last reflection it was noted that Wojtyla had begun a deepening in his relationship with God through his interior life of prayer.  Through the prayerful opening of his heart to this Someone, he had begun to find his true self.  And he was simultaneously finding that this Someone is even more than Rudolf Otto’s impersonal “mysterium, tremendum, et fascinans (the fearful and fascinating mystery)”.  Indeed he says earlier in the same poem

Look into yourself: here is your Friend .  .  .  .

He is learning in a real way what the Lord said in His Last Supper discourses about is His friendship with us (cf. 15:15).  This Friendship is offered in sacrificial love. 

Love explained all for me
all was resolved by love
so this love I adore
wherever it may be. 

Because Wojtyla has this Friendship, what could be seen as meaningless or absurdly tragic events of life are “explained” and “resolved”.  And they are so because this Love no longer calls him a “servant” but a “friend” who knows what his Friend is doing.   Let us remember the background of the poem’s composition: the Holy Father as a young man studying clandestinely for the priesthood in Nazi occupied Poland.  Here is a person who in the face of personified evil is saying that Love is explaining all things…it is resolving the seemingly incoherent events that are surrounding him.  As always it is helpful to remember that John Paul II like all great men and women of faith (known and unknown) are not what Thomas Merton once called “plaster saints.”  They are as flesh and blood as we and have the struggles that are common to all persons (cf. 1 Cor. 10:13a).  Another poem, Song of the Inexhaustible Sun, written at the same time of this present one (1944) shows that he was well acquainted with suffering:

When sorrow and evening mingle…
colors turn to a strange drink
which I lift to my lips in fear…
You heard me weep from afar
and since the beginning knew why. 

Young Wojtyla knew suffering and this knowledge never left him as the subsequent events of his life shows.  Yet, he finds Wisdom which is able to see beyond real suffering of evil (cf. 2 Cor. 4:17; Ps. 30:5b; Rom. 8:18; 1 Pet. 1:6-7) to be able to say

so this love I adore
wherever it may be.

Having this Wisdom he is led to adore this Friend where He may be and whatever He may be doing. 

Yet, we can here the retort, “I can tell you what his Friend is doing!  He is allowing a band of thugs to rape, murder, and exterminate whole cultures and peoples. Love “explains” nothing other than revealing it is either pathetically impotent or callously ambivalent to the sufferings of humanity!”  Such a statement, if we are honest, is understandable.  Thomas Aquinas recognized the argument against God from evil as being a very serious one.  How can one see this Love this love amidst systematic degradation and violence?  How is one able to maintain that sort of interior disposition in the midst of evil personified?  Our interlocutor might continue by saying, “Maybe God does exist but if His arrangement of things are such, then I cannot go along with them.  There is too much suffering for this, however sincere, sort of life to be tolerable.  I cannot go along with it.  Indeed, I will not go along with it.”  This sentiment echoes a character in Dostoevsky’s in the famous novel, The Brothers Karamazov.  Ivan Karamazov, who after listing a serious of gut wrenching atrocities suffered by children to his devout Russian Orthodox brother Alyosha, says that if God has so ordered the universe to allow this suffering even if he consents to suffer from it and therefore redeem it, Ivan says, “It’s not God that I don’t accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return the ticket.”

It is here that we should notice that two possible stances toward life are held before us: a walling of self from life or openness to the whole of life, suffering included.  Remember in the last post we saw that this life is the site where one confirms his “Yes” or “No” to God.  Let us see how each plays out.

 Admittedly there is much in this life that hurts us.  The "tears of humanity with which the earth is soaked from its crust to its center” (Dostoevsky) seems to be our inescapable experience.  And yet, if anyone even wishes to love at all in this created world, suffering is unavoidable.  For some this seems to high a price to pay. The pain of losing the beloved moves them close there hearts from fear of suffering loss.  As Thomas Aquinas says, all fear is based in the love of something.  Is not the walling of self from reality our age’s preferred stance?  Or are not we endeavoring to go beyond even the flight from reality to manipulating it and bending to our wills?  We will become masters and possessors of nature.  We eagerly embrace any formula or technique that promises to tidy up life, searching frantically for some existential calculator through which to enter the variables of daily living for easy answers.  To a certain extent all ideologies are just that sort of undertaking. To free ourselves from the inherent risk of human living, life’s stance becomes one of mastery and domination. Yet to do this is to have accepted the Devil’s bargain.  Yes, you can be freed from the immediate pain of loss but this bargain operates on the law of diminishing returns. The longer one avoids the immediate pain of loss refusing to open the heart, the greater the darkness the person enters into.   Choice is held up before us: the way of life and the way of death (cf. Dt. 30:19). The stakes of this choice and the commitment it brings are real and serious.  In the great novel Les Misrables, Victor Hugo captures powerfully, the struggle of the soul’s decision for life or death saying that it is the, “the choice between the terrible haven and the smiling ambush.” The smiling ambush is ever before us.  One needs only to various forms of media to see it. The smiling ambush is the way of our world (cf. 1 Jn. 2:16).
 

The young Wojtyla, like us all, was offered the smiling ambush but chose rather the terrible haven.  And this haven may indeed be terrible or hard or cause loss.  The terrible haven is the Cross and it is the only way to salvation (cf. Mt. 10:38; Lk: 14:27; 1 Pet. 2:21). Wojtyla was learning how to answer the earlier question of how can one say there is love in the face of such evil.  He knew that it will not come from any rational formula or technique but a way of seeing that can only come through a relationship.  By openness to Christ he deepens his relationship with Him and is able to say in the second stanza: 

I am an open space for a placid tide
where no wave roars, clutching at rainbow branches
now a soothing wave uncovers light in the deep
and breathes light onto unsilvered leaves.

Again that open space is the heart’s interior where God may enter and converse with us.  And through His indwelling we experience that,

placid tide 
where no wave roars, clutching at rainbow branches.

The roaring of anxiety that beat against his heart is stilled by the Voice within (Mark 4:38-39).  Had his heart not been opened, this anxiety could have settled for the Cartesian option of forcing reality into our schemes.  Here is the germ of all the deadening ideologies of modernity frantically clutching at rainbow branches…clutching for the illusory promise of a utopia.  Wojtyla shows the way of escaping the vain promises of the world that always seem just over the horizon.  Since he has friendship with the Lord

            Now a soothing wave uncovers light in the deep
            and breathes light onto silvered leaves.

His poem shows that the Light of Christ illuminates in two ways.  First, He, Who is the Light of the World, was illuminates the deep recesses of the heart, revealing to us our true selves.  Once we see who we are in Christ the second illumination follows whereby we see proper ordering of ourselves in the world around us (cf. Mt. 6:22-23; Lk. 11:34). Through the Light within we now see all things as they really are and should be.

This seeing is nothing less than having the mind of Christ (cf. Phil 2:5; Eph. 4:23; Rom. 12:2).  And having the mind of Christ is no small matter. Wojtyla is showing that it is our contact with reality.  Consider the story of Jesus dining at the Pharisee Simon’s house when Jesus is anointed by the sinful woman (Lk. 7:36-50). Simon is scandalized by such an act but knowing his heart, Jesus tells him a parable about forgiveness and then asks Simon, “Do you see this woman?”(Lk.7:44).  The tragedy is up to this point Simon cannot see her because his eye is bad (Lk. 11:34).  Jesus knows as well as Simon what sort of woman she is.  But a meditative reading of the passage reveals a spiritually lethal danger: so bound by pride, mere social convention, and hardness of heart he is unable to see a pure and explicit act of repentance being answered in return by Merciful Love. Love is right before his eyes and he is blind to it because Simon’s heart has yet to become an “open space” for Love and Truth. For a contemporary example, we need only to think of Christopher Hitchens and his deranged assessment of Mother Theresa.


continued . . .

Abbot Anderson, Homily for the Feast of Saint Gregory the Great

+ Homily for the Feast of Saint Gregory the Great
March 12th, 2011

Annunciation Parish, Houston

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

 And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

Very Reverend Monsignor Golasinski,
Distinguished members of the Pope John Paul II Forum,
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

            On this Saturday following Ash Wednesday, as we set out on the great journey of Lent, we are greeted by the luminous figure of Saint Gregory the Great, whose feast is celebrated today and who is a most welcome guide, a lamp unto our feet.  This humble Benedictine monk, raised despite himself to the throne of Saint Peter, this incomparable Doctor of the Church, founder of the Church in England, this Patron of Sacred Chant, appears as one of those giants of sanctity upon whose shoulders the Catholic saints throughout ensuing ages have stood as upon a rock. 

Christ, Our Lord, alone is absolutely the one true rock upon which the Kingdom of Heaven rises, as foreseen in Nebuchadnezzar’s dream and prophetically interpreted by Daniel.  But Saint Peter also inherited, not only the name (which in Aramaic signifies “rock”), but the function of becoming the visible rock upon which the Church was to be built.  When he became Pope in the year 590, Saint Gregory in turn became “Peter”, the Rock, as did in more recent times the Servant of God, Pope John Paul II, affectionately known as Pope John Paul “the Great,” soon to be beatified.

Now when Jesus addressed Peter with those mysterious words, “Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church,” He added this somewhat disturbing afterthought: “And the gates of hell shall not prevail against it”.  I say “disturbing”, not that the message is lacking in reassurance--for victory is promised to Peter and his successors, the vicars of Christ on earth—but that a clear threat is alluded to, an attempt of infernal powers to overcome in some way the visible head of the Church and thus the Church herself.  In what exactly consists this threat?

The attacks on the Church have varied greatly over the centuries.  In the time of Saint Gregory the city of Rome was falling into ruins.  Various plagues afflicted the population, and the Lombards, a Germanic people, who were partly pagan, partly Arian heretics, had overrun Italy and were cruelly afflicting the Catholic population.  In the time of Pope John Paul II it was surely the dark shadow of totalitarian political states—Nazism and then Communism—that threatened to prevail against the Church and against the entire Christian civilization.

What about our own day?  On the one hand, we are seeing the violent persecution of Christians in the Mideast at the hands of growing numbers of Islamic extremists.  If things continue as at present, these aggressive enemies of the Christian name will soon be “knocking at the door,” so to speak, in London, Paris, and—who knows?—New York. If the Gospel is not brought to a significant number of the Muslims living in our formerly Christian countries, France, England and Germany, just to name a few, will have predominantly Islamic populations  in just a few decades.

Perhaps even more disturbing than these threats to the Church from without the Christian world are those from within.  Our formerly Christian societies in Europe and in the Americas are now following a pattern of decadence that is so radical and rapid that it is truly amazing to persons who have enough years to evaluate the decline.  The phenomenon often referred to by Pope John Paul II as the “culture of death” is perhaps the most significant sign of this decadence, as it clearly shows an increasing disregard for the very dignity of human life, not to mention for God and for the authority of His Church.  It would be easy to harp upon this menace posed by the “gates of hell” in our day: any adult could furnish concrete examples from lived experiences around him or her.

The sense of Christ’s message endures, however.  The storms of hell must all break around the Rock.  It could happen someday, as certain Catholic writers have suggested, that Saint Peter’s basilica in Rome, that incredible work of architecture and of Faith, be destroyed—a few bombs would do it. But even were such an extreme crisis to develop, the Rock that is Christ and the Rock that is Saint Peter and his successors, would never budge.  As the first Pope, Saint Peter, himself says, echoing the words of the royal prophet Isaiah, “For all flesh [i.e. merely human things] is as grass; and all the glory thereof as the flower of grass.  The grass is withered, and the flower thereof is fallen away.  But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.  And this is the word which by the gospel hath been preached unto you”. (I Petri 1:24-25)

So, what do we do during Lent, in order better to conform our lives to the living Truth of the Gospel that endures forever?  How do we build our own lives upon the Rock that is Christ and the Rock that is Saint Peter; how do we ourselves enter into this divine architecture?  For one thing, we can separate ourselves somewhat from the “grass” of human things that come and go, that have no substance to them.  By paying less attention to the magic mirror of the media—especially all that comes through the internet—and by actually reading Holy Scripture, the Word of God, immense benefits can be obtained.  What moderate and persevering fasting can do for our bodies, this fasting from more superficial news and knowledge can accomplish for our hearts and minds. 

In a more positive sense, we can follow the program so wisely laid down for our spiritual nourishment in the Holy Liturgy.   The series of books entitled The Liturgical Year by Abbot Prosper Gueranger can provide an excellent introduction and means of furthering our understanding of the liturgical season of Lent.  More recent works are also available. There is, as it were, a beautiful star, a guiding light in the Church’s liturgy that will be a lamp unto our feet through these days of penance, leading to Calvary and the great drama of the Passion.  More than anything else, attending the Holy Eucharistic Sacrifice of Mass during these Lenten days is the way to live with the Lord the whole paschal mystery, which moves towards its summit in the Sacred Triduum, culminating in the celebration of Easter.

May your patron Saint, here at Annunciation Parish, Our Lady of the Annunciation, be herself your guiding star.  Her delicate and immaculate foot, even more than the rock that is Peter, crushes and destroys the satanic forces that would prevail against the Church.  May this Queen of the Apostles guide you through the shadows of Lent to the sure and peaceful harbor of her Son’s victory over sin and death.  Amen.

Reflections on Abbot Anderson's "Rugged Road"

Abbot Anderson presents us with some great images and examples for understanding the "rugged road" of the Beatitudes: Blessed Fra Angelico's image of the dance,  the educational vision of John Senior, Pope John Paul II on Vatican II, St John of the Cross, St. Benedict, and Judith Cabaud. Surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses we are encouraged to make the ascent, to continue up the road, and to embrace the cross of Good Friday.

The special poem written by Mark van Doren for John Senior is quite remarkable and instructive. For a good effect does the Abbot cite this poem to remind us: "What Mark Van Doren was saying in his poem is that if you do not put your feet in this path and climb upwards, you will eventually slide down hill into the deadly waters of nothingness, as in this life a man cannot remain neutral, cannot rest on slope of the mountain of perfection.  If you are not tending upwards, you will be sliding downwards." Solzenhitsyn, in the Gulag (in vol. 2, The Soul and barbed wire) also reminds us -- we ascend or we descend, for the line dividing good and evil runs through the heart of every man (Adam).

Pope John Paul II continues in his opening to Veritatis splendor with this thought:

But no darkness of error or of sin can totally take away from man the light of God the Creator. In the depths of his heart there always remains a yearning for absolute truth and a thirst to attain full knowledge of it. This is eloquently proved by man's tireless search for knowledge in all fields. It is proved even more by his search for the meaning of life. The development of science and technology, this splendid testimony of the human capacity for understanding and for perseverance, does not free humanity from the obligation to ask the ultimate religious questions. Rather, it spurs us on to face the most painful and decisive of struggles, those of the heart and of the moral conscience.VS §1

Yes, the Abbot's Lenten talks should "spur us on to face the most painful and decisive of struggles, those of the heart and of the moral conscience."

Then in section 2 of the opening of Veritatis splendor, Pope John Paul II returns to the fundamental story about Christ as the new Adam, and we get a new look at Gaudium et spes §22: "Consequently the decisive answer to every one of man's questions, his religious and moral questions in particular, is given by Jesus Christ, or rather is Jesus Christ himself, as the Second Vatican Council recalls: 'In fact,it is only in the mystery of the Word incarnate that light is shed on the mystery of man. For Adam, the first man, was a figure of the future man, namely, of Christ the Lord. It is Christ, the last Adam, who fully discloses man to himself and unfolds his noble calling by revealing the mystery of the Father and the Father's love.'"

I am also appreciative of the Abbot's reference to the universal call to holiness:

One of the key intuitions of the Second Vatican Council, often referred to by the Servant of God Pope John Paul II in his discourses (e.g. Christifideles Laici, numbers 16-17), is that the Catholic faithful are in fact called to this perfection Christ speaks of.  In other words, whereas often in the past most people thought of perfection, or “sanctity” or “holiness” (all of these terms covering nearly the same reality) as belonging exclusively to priests and nuns and members of religious orders, this call is truly universal.  Just as God calls all human beings to the Christian faith (the Catholic Faith being this Faith in its complete form), so He calls all Christians to be perfect as their Heavenly Father is perfect. 

 The laity will receive the grace to live according to their state of life. I have found a good passage in the Letter to the Church in America: "On a continent marked by competition and aggressiveness, unbridled consumerism and corruption, lay people are called to embody deeply evangelical values such as mercy, forgiveness, honesty, transparency of heart and patience in difficult situations. What is expected from the laity is a great creative effort in activities and works demonstrating a life in harmony with the Gospel."

It is a rugged road. But the Abbot's closing remarks about Mary as a model and providing a motto are very instructive:

Our Motto is: “Ecce-Fiat” from the Gospel of the Annunciation.  Ecce = humility; Fiat = obedience.  They both lead to Magnificat at top of mountain, where God is all and God is love and we will be happy and blessed, having climbed the mountain of the Beatitudes and having re-entered the Paradise we lost, once upon a time. 

"Ecce-Fiat" should be our watchwords for Lent -- and further up the rugged road.

Reflections on Abbot Anderson's "Paradise Lost"

Learn from his fatherly wisdom

Abbot Anderson was invited to speak to the Pope John Paul II Forum about the spiritual teaching of both St. Benedict and Pope John Paul II. I was struck to see how an affinity between them is to be found at the very root of the spiritual life --  Obedience and disobedience of the Father's command. Abbot Anderson spoke about the realism of St. Benedict, but we could also speak about the concreteness of St. Benedict as well as the appropriate naming of the particular issue we face. There certainly are various psychological theories about human wrong doing; there are conflicting philosophical accounts of human action; theologians also have their various definitions of sin. St. Benedict orients us to what is most fundamental -- disobedience. It was then and it is now the nature of sin. The fundamental story we need to know is that of Adam and Christ, the new Adam. We are rebels, and so began the history of fallen man, or as Augustine calls it, "the city of man." Now some rebels throughout history have been in the right; but not in the case of Adam and his progeny. We see the snake of envy and the poison of sin his rebels put in the chalice of Benedict.

Dom Delatte, in his Commentary on the Rule, cited by Abbot Anderson for another matter, had this to say about the theme of obedience in the Rule's Prologue: "man has only one way in which to separate himself from God, and that is the way of the old Adam, disobedience." (p. 3) And there is one way to return, the new Adam, the obedience of Christ. He goes on to explain that the age old struggle for obedience is a "drama that fills all time and all space," from the beginning to the end. "All intelligent beings are ranged in two camps, those who obey and those who obey not; and the struggle of the two forces knows no truce. Each has its king, and he who claims to withdraw himself from obedience passes by this very fact under the domination of the other King." (p. 5) In other words, when we pray "thy kingdom come," do we continue to clutch the rebel's flag behind our backs?

St. Benedict's "school for service" uses the weapon of obedience. But this obedience is due to a "loving father" (pius pater). The highest form of fatherhood is that which "transmits doctrine and enlightenment," and whose ideal and source is in God the "Father of Light" (Jas. 1.7) Dom Delatte points out that the paternal tone of the first words of the prologue are "attractive and reassuring."

At this very point of returning to the father, of inclining the ear of the heart to the father, the evil one sows confusion. Here is where Pope John Paul II finds the challenge of coming to faith in the modern world. The hermeneutics of suspicion has already sown the seeds of a great lie in modern philosophy. The Pope wrote:

One might think that Hegel's paradigm of the master and the servant is more present in people's consciousness today than is wisdom, whose origin lies in the filial fear of God. The philosophy of arrogance is born of the Hegelian paradigm. The only force capable of effectively counteracting this philosophy is found in the Gospel of Christ, in which the paradigm of master-slave is radically transformed into the paradigm of father-son. 

The father-son paradigm is ageless. It is older than human history. The "rays of fatherhood" contained in this formulation belong to the Trinitarian Mystery of God Himself, which shines forth from Him, illuminating man and his history. This notwithstanding, as we know from Revelation, in human history the "rays of fatherhood" meet a first resistance in the obscure but real fact of original sin. This is truly the key for interpreting reality. Original sin is not only the violation of a positive command of God but also, and above all, a violation of the will of God as expressed in that command. Original sin attempts, then, to abolish fatherhood, destroying its rays which permeate the created world, placing in doubt the truth about God who is Love and leaving man only with a sense of the master-slave relationship. As a result, the Lord appears jealous of His power over the world and over man; and consequently, man feels goaded to do battle against God. No differently than in any epoch of history, the enslaved man is driven to take sides against the master who kept him enslaved. Last chapter of Crossing the Threshold of Hope

  Abbot Anderson mentioned at the end of the first talk why "Divine Mercy" is so crucial and how hard it is for modern man to believe that God will forgive his sin. As John Paul II explains we are doubly separated from God through modern philosophy. The lie of "God as tyrant" is spread over the original disobedience. We stand as rebels and yet we fear and believe we cannot return to honor before the true King.

The Abbot, learning from the wisdom of St. Benedict,  found a key to the thought of Pope John Paul II  in section one of Veritatis splendor; it would be easy to miss it because the encyclical is so long and involved, and such a brilliant account of morality. Pope John Paul II begins at the proper beginning, as did St. Benedict: "This obedience is not always easy. As a result of that mysterious original sin, committed at the prompting of Satan, the one who is 'a liar and the father of lies' (Jn 8:44), man is constantly tempted to turn his gaze away from the living and true God . . . Man's capacity to know the truth is also darkened, and his will to submit to it is weakened. Thus, giving himself over to relativism and scepticism (cf. Jn 18:38), he goes off in search of an illusory freedom apart from truth itself."  §1 Much of Veritatis splendor (Splendor of Truth) is an elaboration of this fundamental recognition of the "drama that fills all space and time," disobedience versus obedience.

"The Church venerates him [St Benedict] as the patriarch of the monks of the West; and God has so disposed the course of history that every religious Order is in some way indebted to him and has learned from his fatherly wisdom." (Dom Delatte, Commentary p. 1) And perhaps Popes as well have learned from his fatherly wisdom.

The Abbot's first talk should make our Lenten task very clear -- shake off the torpor of the great lie, put aside the disobedience of Adam and flee to the mercy of the Father. Abba.

Abbot Anderson, The Rugged Road of the Beatitudes, conclusion

Church at Clear Creek Monastery, drawing

Here concludes the Lenten talks by the Right Reverend Philip Anderson, OSB, Abbot, Our Lady of the Annunciation Monastery of Clear Creek (OK)

So what can we say about this effort toward perfection, how can we grasp such a thing in the framework of our Lenten meditations?  I would like the whole process to mountain-climbing.  We have to climb a kind of mountain of perfection.  The analogy has often been used, for example by Saint John of the Cross in his Ascent of Mount Carmel.  To give it a more biblical name, it would be the mountain of the Beatitudes.  The perfect one, the Saint, is the one who climbs the rugged and upward road of the Beatitudes.

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall possess the land.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice: for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure of heart: for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peace-makers: for they shall be called the children of God
Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

As is often the case in Holy Scripture, this biblical series of spiritual qualities has no strict logical order, as would naturally be the case, say with a Greek philosopher describing the moral life.  Divine revelation—and this is a most eminent page of Revelation—has its own Divine logic that transcends what the most brilliant human minds can put together.  There is nonetheless something more excellent in the “higher” Beatitudes (lower on the list, higher up the mountain), dealing with mercy, purity of heart, peace and the giving of one’s life as a martyr; there is something very fundamental about the beginning, about poverty in spirit, another name perhaps for humility. 

Saint Benedict, who is known as the Patriarch of the monks of the West, likens this climb of perfection to going up a ladder, the ladder of humility.  It is really the same image as the mountain climb (Saint John Climacus, icon of spiritual ladder).  Through false exaltation, through spiritual pride, a man really lowers himself, whereas, paradoxically, the one who humbles himself (literally touches the ground, the dirt, humus) rises spiritually toward the beatitude of life in God, toward the dance of Paradise regained.  The biblical reference is Jacob’s ladder, which you remember from reading the book of Genesis…His dream near Mount Bethel, vision of angels.  The monk strenuously climbs this ladder of humility day-by-day, imitating the holy angels, amid the difficulties of his life of penance, work and prayer, Ora et Labora. 

All religious, not just monks, climb this mountain of perfection through what are called the Evangelical Counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience.  This climb, which is in many ways corresponds to that of the Beatitudes, begins with poverty, both material and spiritual.  The religious can own nothing of his own or her own.  That is a renunciation that is more exterior, the least difficult.  Then comes, for those who vow these counsels--and also for all Christians in a certain way--then comes chastity, by which a person renounces something less external, “closer to home”, a fundamental good of the body and of our human life for the sake of the Kingdom. 

Then comes an even more intimate and radical renunciation, that of obedience, by which we give up our own will and let God’s take the place.

In a more general way, speaking of this climb up the spiritual mountain as it presents its challenges to those in the world as to those inside the cloister there are three basic stages (something of an over-simplification, but a useful one):  the first there is a time when the accent is on purification, purgation.  You have to “get out of town” so to speak, away from the hustle and bustle, the confusion and distractions of life in the world.  On a retreat, for example.  Serious sin and important imperfections as well as bad habits have to be eliminated.  The second stage, often simultaneous with the first in part is that of illumination, that is to say of a spiritual education gained from listening to teachers or--especially--from reading.  This is called lectio divina in monastic language.  This is a quiet, meditative type of reading, devoid of all haste. 

Finally there comes the most important step, one that cannot adequately be described.  It is called the “unitive life” sometimes, that is to say it involves a kind of special union with God.  There would be a great deal to say about this, and yet we do not want to cheapen such a miracle of grace by speaking too much.

Most of you are not religious.  You might wonder what form all of this might take for you in your busy day-to-day lives.  There is an example that might be helpful.  There is the case of Judith Cabaud (nee Anthony): (born 8 July 1941 in New York) is an American-born French writer and musicologist. She was born into a Jewish-American family of Polish and Russian heritage.  After studying science at the University of New York, she went to Paris and obtained her degree in French civilization in 1960 at the Sorbonne, and converted to Catholicism.  She has published several books, but the most notable is Sur Les Balcons du Ciel (in English, Where Time Becomes Space, 1979).

Perhaps, like Judith Cabaud, some of you might attain to the upper reaches of the contemplative life even while living an active life in the world; perhaps God will grant you a foretaste, just a glimpse of things to come--of the dance of angels, of a certain beatitude even amid the confusion of the world.

However, it would be quite unrealistic, untrue, to leave you with the impression that life can be a joyful climb towards Paradise regained, without mentioning something else.  Along the way of the Beatitudes that leads up the mountain of perfection there always comes that moment—we might call it the ‘vertigo moment’, of a kind of desperate difficulty.  You see, the mountain of perfection is also Mount Calvary.  We must meet the Cross.  The time comes when the sunshine that brightened our path is blocked.  Like Moses, we enter into a cloud (Holy Spirit?).  We are stuck on a sheer cliff, unable either to go up or to go down.  It is the Dark Night of the Soul.  On the road to Easter there must be Good Friday.  It cannot be helped.  Why? Nature of evil.  In the end (surprisingly) life thus makes ‘a better story’.  Whose story? Yours and God’s too.  God wants your life to be a true adventure, something worth living, and not just a “safe” excursion to the closest strip-mall.  But what if—in this great and adventurous mountain-climb-- I fall?  Well, God will catch you, sustain you, but you have to at least start climbing…God created us without our consent, but He wants us to contribute to our salvation and sanctification.

         Finally, there remains the attitude of Our Lady, that of humility.  Ecce-Fiat.  Patron of this church in Houston and also of our Abbey in Oklahoma.  Our Motto is: “Ecce-Fiat” from the Gospel of the Annunciation.  Ecce = humility; Fiat = obedience.  They both lead to Magnificat at top of mountain, where God is all and God is love and we will be happy and blessed, having climbed the mountain of the Beatitudes and having re-entered the Paradise we lost, once upon a time.  Thank you and may God bless you and yours.

FINIS

Note: I wish to thank Abbot Anderson for his visit to Houston to speak at the Pope John Paul II Forum. I encourage anyone who has read these conferences to pray for the Abbot and the monks at Clear Creek and to consider making a donation to the Monastery where these sons of St. Benedict are establishing a school for God's service. With the contemplative life begins the renewal of Christian culture. Visit their website by clicking here.

These Lenten conferences by Abbot Anderson will soon be available in PDF form from the Pope John Paul II website; and also as a pamphlet soon to be available from the Forum. Send us an email (jp2forum@gmail.com) if you wish to receive a copy.

Abbot Anderson, The Rugged Road of the Beatitudes, pt 1

Blessed Fra Angelico, Dance of the Angels and Blessed

+ The Rugged Road of the Beatitudes
Reflections for Lent
Talk 2
Abbot Philip Anderson
Our Lady of the Annunciation Monastery of Clear Creek (OK)

 

Climbing the Mountain of Perfection

         There is another painting, quite different from the one I previously mentioned (depicting the scene of Paradise Lost), which might illustrate a point that will help us enter into the second part of these Lenten reflections.   The picture I have in mind is actually a detail of vast fresco of the Last Judgment by Blessed Fra Angelico, the famous Florentine painter, who was a priest and a Dominican Friar.  It shows us the dance of the Angels and holy souls in the Paradise of Heaven.  As these human beings are admitted to Heaven, they are invited, you see, to join the circle of this dance of the blessed in a Paradise that far surpasses the one our first parents lost through sin in the beginning of human history.  The dance leads them around about and up toward the vision of God. This marvelous scene conveys very well, I think, the whole idea of beatitude, of blessedness—of happiness in its ultimate expression.

         There have been serious discussions among theologians as to what the first principle of the moral and spiritual life of man might be.  Saint Thomas Aquinas, and with him no doubt the best of the great theological tradition of our Western Christendom, state clearly that the first principle of it is happiness—not just any happiness, but that ultimate happiness that represents the true fulfillment and blossoming of a human life.  Isn’t that surprising? Of course, we need laws and moral imperatives in order to stay on the right path toward God, but our life is not just about moral obligations.  If in recent centuries—for those who are able to take into view the tableau of Catholic doctrine-- the moral life has too often been reduced to a set of laws to be obeyed, it was not so with the such incomparable teachers as Saint Augustine and Saint Thomas—not to mention Saint Benedict. 

For them the adventure of human life was not so much about what we have to do in order to avoid Hell, as about what we can do in order to serve Our Father in Heaven and our brothers and sisters on earth and so to arrive at that Paradise, that Garden, that vision, which gives meaning to all life.  Everyone needs to observe the Ten Commandments and the Laws of the Church, but we need even more to follow the road of the Beatitudes as taught by Christ and to live from the law of the New Testament, defined by Saint Thomas Aquinas as the grace of the Holy Spirit.  Because of the laxness that is so prevalent in our society, practicing Catholics tend perhaps to emphasize moral obligation.  This is only natural (an understandable reaction).  But we must, in this ever-so-important domain, have a mind to find the Truth and not just react to the dangers around us.

Closely linked to the idea and reality of beatitude, of happiness as the crucial motive for the moral and spiritual life of man, is that of perfection.  “Be you therefore perfect,” says the Lord at the end of the first part of the Sermon on the Mount, “as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mtt. 5:48).  What a program of life!  This is at the very heart of the religious life, especially of the monastic way.

“Of all the stars in the long line of distinguished teachers at Columbia College,” it is said in his biography, “none shone more brightly than Mark Van Doren. Nationally famous as a novelist, playwright, critic, editor, and poet (his Collected Poems won the Pulitzer Prize in 1940), at the College Van Doren is also remembered as the quintessential great teacher. In his nearly four decades at Columbia, Van Doren introduced generations to Western literature and became a trusted friend and advisor to students and fellow teachers.”  He also ushered into the Catholic Church, I might add, some rather famous converts, although—mysteriously, sadly I suppose--he never made that step himself.  Among those converts was my own teacher and mentor, John Senior, who studied under Mark Van Doren and was later to be at the origin of a wave of converts at—of all places—the University of Kansas.  Van Doren wrote a poem that I would like to quote here for his student, John Senior, on the occasion of the latter’s being received into the Church--I think in 1960.  

Be ye therefore perfect;
Be less and cease to be.
There is no going downward
Save into the great sea,
Where things continue falling
Forever and a day;
Except that all is darkness,
Down there, o soul of me.

Be ye therefore perfect.
But how will I do that?
Patience, little brother,
And inwardly take thought.
Breathe evenly. Remember
What many have forgot:
The hill to climb is higher
Even than Ararat.

-- “Estote Ergo Vos Perfecti”--poem by Mark Van Doren, dedicated to Senior
 

The case of John Senior, convert, educator

One of the key intuitions of the Second Vatican Council, often referred to by the Servant of God Pope John Paul II in his discourses (e.g. Christifideles Laici, numbers 16-17), is that the Catholic faithful are in fact called to this perfection Christ speaks of.  In other words, whereas often in the past most people thought of perfection, or “sanctity” or “holiness” (all of these terms covering nearly the same reality) as belonging exclusively to priests and nuns and members of religious orders, this call is truly universal.  Just as God calls all human beings to the Christian faith (the Catholic Faith being this Faith in its complete form), so He calls all Christians to be perfect as their Heavenly Father is perfect. 

All Christians in any state or walk of life, explains the Catechism of the Catholic Church, are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity (2012)

You may think that the program is not only challenging, but quite beyond human strength.  This is quite correct, but what choice do we have?  What Mark Van Doren was saying in his poem is that if you do not put your feet in this path and climb upwards, you will eventually slide down hill into the deadly waters of nothingness, as in this life a man cannot remain neutral, cannot rest on slope of the mountain of perfection.  If you are not tending upwards, you will be sliding downwards.  If fact, the ideal here is not about being “perfect” in the sense of having no imperfections and struggles with being a good person.  The Saints, who had this perfection, were the first to admit their own sinfulness weakness.  Only the Blessed in Heaven are perfect in the sense of being totally free of all venial sins and imperfections.  Here below, before we reach Heaven—as we hope to do with the grace of God—only a certain relative perfection is possible—relative but very real (the canonization of a Saint corresponds to something true and real).  In fact, being “perfect” here below, as the Saints are perfect (Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta or soon Pope John Paul II), implies putting up with a very great deal of imperfection, not only in others, in the world around us, but even in ourselves, to the extent that we are not able to uproot it. 

continued . . .