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April 26, 2008

6th Sunday of Easter - The Long Loneliness

Although I never personally met her, one of my all-time favorite people was Dorothy Day. She died in 1980 and during her lifetime she had several careers: A journalist, a Socialist, publisher of a monthly “penny paper” called the Catholic Worker. (It still only costs a penny.)

She was also a convert to the Catholic Church. She loved this adopted church so much that she had no fear even taking on the Cardinal Archbishop of New York on issues of war and peace.

Most especially though she was known for founding the Houses of Hospitality that welcomed any and all from the streets of large cities. She personally took on the responsibility of making the daily potato soup and bread, making up the beds, sitting and talking to people as long as they needed someone to talk to.

Dorothy Day wrote a book, an autobiography late in her life entitled The Long Loneliness. It was sort of a sad book because Dorothy had experienced a hard life: First married, then divorced, then living alone.

But we learn from her autobiography that she found her greatest joy in being with others, with people of all classes of society. That was probably the reason why she founded The Catholic Worker and the Houses of Hospitality: She loved people and needed people to fill up her life because she was basically a lonely person.

It has occurred to me many times that perhaps most of us are basically lonely people. We come into this world all alone and we leave this world alone. But in the intervening years we long for and search for companionship: We marry, we join social groups or religious communities, and we make friends, often for life. All this tells me that we cannot bear to be alone.

Whoever was the author of the Book of Genesis he surely had a deep understanding of human nature. He is convinced that God created woman because it was not good for the man to be alone; so he created a helpmate. Then he adds this: “That is why a man leaves his father and mother and joins himself to his wife and they become one body.” One translation uses the word “cling”, the man “clings” to his wife because she is all he has. Without her he will be lonely for all of his life.

I have always thought of those lines as containing a deep insight into our deepest longings. Is it any wonder then that we spend so much of our life searching for that one person who will fulfill our deepest desires?

I often tell young people at their wedding that from this day forward they are meant to “cling to one another.” It is what will give meaning to their lives.

Despite this normal human longing, however, we are still destined to spend much of our life alone. Two examples: Occasionally I will walk back into church after Mass on a Sunday and look around. Not a soul is left in the pews. I say to myself: “An hour ago this place was packed with worshipers. They depended on me to celebrate the Eucharist; they waited for a word of encouragement in the homily. But now they have all gone their way and I am here alone (with Jesus!)”

Some years ago when I taught at a university, I would often join the drama students, taking a minor role in some play. Sometimes when the production was over, I would walk back out on the stage and look around. Not a soul in the bleachers; everyone had gone home and here I stood alone on the stage.

All this tells me that at many times in our lives we need to admit that we do stand alone. How must it be then for those who are sent to solitary confinement in prison? I would find that unbearable.

As I read the gospels, the story of Jesus’ life, I have the sense that he too must often have been lonely. True enough, he would choose to be off by himself in the desert or the mountains. But we also know that he longed for the companionship of his friends Lazarus, Martha and Mary. He “hung around” with the Twelve Apostles, with the Seventy Two, with many disciples. He was truly at home with the crowds. We also know, of course, that on the last night of his life he depended on his friends to support him: “Could you not watch one hour with me,” he cried out?

Perhaps it is not so unlikely, therefore, that he decided to establish a community of friends that would eventually become what we know as Church today. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to call together his friends and tell them that he would not leave them orphans. Even though he must eventually leave them and go his way, he would send them an Advocate, the Holy Spirit, who would continue to be with them forever.

That is the way I have always thought of Church, as a gathering of friends at worship. True enough, Mass often seems like a formality that we take part in all alone but it does not have to be that way. There ought to be a sense of companionship in the pews and in the relationship of the presider and the folks.

If there is ever a situation where ideally Christians, Catholics, should not need not feel alone it would surely need to be in Church. That is one place where we definitely are one big family.

So, all these thoughts came to me as I looked through the liturgical calendar and noted that next Sunday we celebrate the feast of the Ascension of the Lord, Jesus’ leave-taking. And following that we celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the day of the Lord’s return in the Holy Spirit. All that tells me that we should never consider ourselves orphans. Jesus has never truly left us.

Perhaps Dorothy Day had it right: The best way to escape life’s Long Loneliness is to find a community and to cling to it. When you think about that, it’s probably the only option we have and not a bad one at that. The scriptures: Acts 8: 5-8, 14-17; 1 Peter 3: 15-18, John 14: 15-21

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 01:40 PM.

April 19, 2008

5th Sunday of Easter - Who’s Church?

It has always interested me to notice, at least among Christians, how important a role their church plays in their daily lives. Whether folks attend Mass regularly or not, they will ordinarily defend themselves as Catholics who belong to this or that church.

If you ask folks, particularly on the East Coast, or, say, in Louisiana, where they live, they will tell you: “I live in St. Monica’s Parish or “I live in St. Genieve’s.” Perhaps they will tell you that this is their church because it is the place where they feel ethnically and spiritually comfortable, welcomed, at home. Of course, they will also support and defend that church because it’s theirs. At least that is their conviction.

For as long as the Catholic Church has been in existence, it has identified itself with the culture of the times in which it exists. We speak, therefore, of the “Early Church, Jewish and Christian. We hear a lot about the deep faith of the Church of the Middle Ages, or the more rich and flamboyant Church of the Renaissance, or, today, the Church of the Second Vatican Council. In every case the Church is identified with people, with their culture, their language, their habits and customs. One might need to say that the only Church that truly exists is the one that we know here and now, at this moment, in this place on this planet.

Another interesting element about Church is the question: “whose Church is it?” That may sound like a silly question because the Church doesn’t belong to anyone (not even the pope.) If the Church belongs to anyone, it belongs to Jesus Christ, the Founder!

But we have a lot of rather sorry history surrounding this very question: Who’s Church is it? Who controls it, whose is in charge?

I can still remember as a kid the disputes that went on in our Church of St. Henry over who was in charge: The church trustees or the pastor. In one instance, the trustees were so powerful that they actually persuaded the bishop to have the pastor deposed, sent packing!

Just recently we have a story in the Catholic news of the situation of a Polish church in St. Louis. There has been a battle going on for several years between the parishioners and Archbishop Raymond Burke over who owns the church’s financial assets, the parishioners or the bishop? The folks say, “The church is ours, we built it with our money.” The bishop says, “Sorry, I’m the boss, I call the shots.” In fact, it came to the point where the bishop closed the church altogether and excommunicated some of the parish leaders. The parishioners, for their part, went out and got their own pastor, a Polish priest from another parish! The battle continues. Pretty scandalous situation. But it tells you that people love their church and not even an archbishop is going to take it away from them. Of course, if someone tells you that it’s not about the money, it’s about the money! Jesus must be weeping.

In the Boston Archdiocese a similar situation is happening. The Archbishop closed a number of churches. In the case of the Church of St. Joan of Arc, the parishioners have occupied the church night and day for several months and refuse to leave.

Well, all of this tells you, of course, that over the centuries that the Church has been in existence, it has not existed in a vacuum. It always seems to take on the patterns of secular life, and that is not always a good model.

A good question to ask, of course, is this: What was it like in the beginning? What was in the mind of Jesus and the early Christians when Christianity took root? Obviously, Jesus himself did not set up any organization.

Within a few years, of course, those early disciples began to organize themselves into bodies called churches. Most of them were smaller than our normal parish today. Hence, the atmosphere was more intimate, close-knit.

Well, let me say that there is an answer to that question, Who’s Church Is It? You heard the answer a few moments ago when we listened to the second reading from the Letter of Peter

Let me warn you ahead of time that this is not the sort of language we use today. Nonetheless, it will tell you a lot about how those early Christians, our brothers and sisters, thought about themselves. Here is how the author of that letter to the Christians referred to them: Let me paraphrase it: “My brothers and sisters, remember, Jesus Christ is our living cornerstone, precious in the sight of God. And you too are living stones. Therefore, you must build yourselves up on the cornerstone that is Christ. After all, you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation a people set apart to praise the God who has called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

My friends, to my mind that is one of the clearest descriptions of Church that I have ever heard. It tells us who we are, how we are related to Christ and what our task in the world is all about.

How different that is from the way we often think of Church today with all our organization, all our laws, all the competition that goes on over who makes decisions, who has the power, et cetera.

It occurs to me to say, therefore, that it wouldn’t be a bad idea if every parish, every Christian community were to gather once each year, aside from Mass, and discuss questions like this: What does this Christian community think about itself? What responsibility do we take for our Church? How do we think about our leaders, the bishop and the local pastor? Do we collaborate for the good of our parish or do we struggle for power? The answers to those questions might give the parish a clear idea of how it thinks of itself.

The point is, my friends, we just can’t take our church, our Christian community, for granted. We are all living stones, as the letter of Peter described. We are built on the cornerstone that is Christ.

Whether all this will change bishops’decisions to close churches, I don’t know. Whether it will help Christians understand their role as members of a parish, I have no idea. But one thing for sure, if we could only decide to use the model of those early Christians we just heard about, we’d all be a happier Church and the question Who’s Church Is It? Would never even raise its ugly head?

The scriptures: Acts 6 1-7; 1 Peter 2: 4-9; John 14: 1-12

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:58 PM.

April 13, 2008

4th Sunday of Easter - The Politics of Shepherding

I imagine by this time of the year most of us are pretty weary of the politics of electing a president and at this point we are not even in the final stages of the presidential campaign.

Politics has always interested me, not in the sense that I want to be any elected official but rather because the motivations of those who run for office seem so mysterious. Why anyone would want to run for the office of president of the United States, for instance, puzzles me. Either the candidate must have a large ego, loves being a power broker or he is simply a masochist, and doesn’t mind for the next four or eight years being lampooned with cartoons in national magazines. Let’s face it: Politics is messy business: Large bodies of people are basically ungovernable, uncontrollable. Who would want to spend a large part of his or her life fighting political battles?

Realistically, of course, somebody has to do it, for whatever motivation. I would like to think that at least some politicians have a high motivation for running for office, despite it’s burdens. There must be some politicians out there who sincerely believe that they can make the world a better place and are willing to take the flack that goes with the office. Some (many I hope) are sincerely concerned for the welfare of their brothers and sisters of their constituency. I hope this does not prove to be a naïve hope. If it is, then our world is in deeper trouble than I think it is already.

Despite the bad reputation that the world of politics often has, the individuals who use their office for their own ends, there is still something gratifying about being able to say that we have done something to make the world a better place, that we have brought order out of chaos, that the poor and the underprivileged have been served. Leadership, if it is chosen for a high motive, is a noble goal.

Given the complexity of human communities, of course, leadership is an absolute necessity. Fortunately, there always seems to be some individual or individuals who rise to the top and pledge to do their best for the commonweal. Nonetheless, high motivation would seem to be required; otherwise chaos and harm will ensue.

Perhaps not many politicians think about their motivation, but if they were to do so, I would suggest that they think about being shepherds. I know that is not a very acceptable term today because most folks in the community do not like to think of themselves as aimless sheep; people who need someone else to run their lives for them.

Nonetheless, shepherding is an ancient and honorable profession. Although in our time that occupation is limited to a few individuals, the shepherd’s task has a wider implication as a metaphor for anything that involves caring for someone or for many.

Whether we reflect on it or not, there are many natural shepherds among us: Parents, teachers, social workers, political leaders, spiritual directors, bishops and pastors…popes even! Each one needs to be concerned regarding a different flock. But, ultimately their task to make sure that good order prevails and that people are served in whatever manner is important to them. In short, shepherding is an intimate part of life in the world. Without someone at the helm, life becomes unlivable.

It is not unlikely then that Jesus should have chosen shepherd as a model for the vocation he felt attracted him.

When you re-read the gospel we just proclaimed, for instance, you get the sense that Jesus did not have much patience with the spiritual leadership of his time. Spiritually, those whose task it was to do this very thing were not caring for people. Indeed, he uses some pretty tough language for those entrusted with temple or synagogue leadership: He calls them “thieves and robbers.” I’m sure that is a reference to the temple taxes that the poor had to pay for simple sacrifices. He also calls them “strangers” because no one in the flock is listening to them.

So, what then is Jesus’ model for leadership? What is a model that will fit our times, whether spiritual or secular?

The metaphor Jesus uses best is this: “The shepherd walks ahead of the sheep; they hear his voice and follow him.” “Walking ahead,” obviously refers to good leadership. People, who look for leadership, look ahead not behind. Natural leaders are consistently “out front” of the flock, always thinking ahead, always looking for ways to make sure everyone is on the same page. Anyone who wants to be a leader needs to take charge and not wait for someone else to take responsibility. Responsibility goes with the job.

Another implication in Jesus’ reference to being a leader is trust: Unless the people you lead have implicit trust in you and your leadership, you will never be successful.

And a third implication in Jesus model of shepherd is respect. If you have no respect for those who look to you for leadership, if you are using people for your own ends, you will eventually fail. People will see through that very quickly.

And finally what seems implied in Jesus’ model is dedication: If you don’t want to work hard, if you don’t want to spend long hours figuring out what your people need most, you will not be fulfilling your task and responsibility.

In the end, of course, we would need to say that being a shepherd, a leader has many gratifying moments: If only one person on a given day feels that his or her life has been made better because of your efforts, then you should feel good about that. Your shepherding has been a model of God’s grace.

Hey, maybe that would be a good motive to run for office in the next election. Think of the good you could do.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 14a, 36-41; 1 Peter 2 20b-25; John 10: 1-10

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 03:52 PM.

April 06, 2008

3rd Sunday of Easter - Recognition

One of the comforting things about being a presider at Mass is that you have a sense that you are in charge! I don’t mean for that to sound disrespectful, but when you are standing before, say, couple hundred people who have come to church to experience God or the sacred, you know that you have a serious responsibility on your hands. People expect you to know what you are doing and to help them celebrate the liturgy in a reasonably sacred manner. That’s your job!

Let me point out, however, that, as in other activities in life, they do no always run smoothly, even those we consider sacred.

Let me tell you, for instance, where things can get really messy at Mass, where you sometimes can lose control: It’s mainly at the time of the distribution of Holy Communion! Don’t misunderstand me: Folks are ordinarily quite orderly at communion time. However, it’s the moms and dads who are “dragging” their little kids along…that’s where I sometimes lose control. Kids are really funny (they don’t know it, of course.) But often when they come before me, they will say: “Hey, are you really God?” Or, “Are you Jesus?” More often though they will extend their stubby little hand or grab hold of the ciborium with the sacred hosts and say: “I want some of that too.” At that point the mother or father will say: “You don’t get any yet, come on, let’s go” and they get dragged off. Then the crying begins, of course, and I know well that at this point I have truly lost all control of the situation.

But, of course, who can blame the kids? Everybody else is “getting Jesus” except these little guys and girls. I’d be mad too if I didn’t “get something” at communion time. Who can blame them?

In some mysterious way, I’m sure most Catholics, when they come to church, are asking exactly for what the little kids are asking for. If they could explain it, they would want to say “I had an experience of God today.

How that happens, of course, is a great mystery. Each person experiences God in a unique manner. Fundamentally, however, whether we happen to be at Mass or not, we instinctively want to be in touch with the sacred.

That is exactly the situation we find in the gospel for this Sunday, the beautiful story of the two followers of Jesus who had a sacred experience of meeting Jesus Christ and didn’t even know who it was. You just heard the story: Purely by accident, they meet him on their way home to Emmaus soon after the terrible days of the crucifixion. They have no idea who this stranger is but they strike up a conversation with him about all that has happened in Jerusalem those past few days. It was sad news for them, obviously, but they had to say it.

At last the stranger says: “Here, let me explain what all this means. Have you never read the scriptures? All that just happened was predicted by the prophets.” The disciples, of course, still have no idea who they are talking to, no idea that this man is talking about himself.

Finally, they reach a motel; the day is late, so they invite the stranger to have supper with them. He doesn’t seem all that interested but finally says, “Ok.” In the middle of the supper he takes a piece of bread, breaks it and hands it to them. They probably had a cup of wine too, although it’s not mentioned.

All of a sudden they say: “Hey, wait a minute, we’ve seen all this before. Remember the Last Supper?” At that point they know for sure they are talking with Jesus. It’s the Last Supper all over again.

The question is how did they know it was still the same Jesus? Jesus did not introduce himself. Two things are clear from the past: First, Jesus explained the scriptures and then he broke bread with them. It is probably safe to say that this was one of the first times, after the Last Supper, that Mass was celebrated.

Now, why are we hearing all this? We are hearing all this in the scriptures because the early Christians, our brothers and sisters, wanted everyone to know that you could recognize Jesus if you came together as a community, read and shared the scriptures and then broke bread together. In simplest form, that is what we do each Sunday.

So now let’s go back to the Holy Communion stories I told earlier. If you ask practically any Catholic to name what is most important to them while celebrating Mass together, they will say “when we receive Holy Communion; that is where we meet Jesus Christ.”

The problem with that answer, of course, is that we are missing part of the picture. Jesus actually became recognizable to those early Christians in several ways: First, by gathering the folks. Secondly, by explaining the scriptures. Thirdly, by breaking bread, sharing it and by blessing the cup of wine and sharing it and finally by sending them out to share the good news. That’s about as full, complete and clear a picture of the Mass as you are ever going to get.

So, once again, my friends, here we are, gathered on the Lord’s Day not simply, as we say, to go to Mass. We gather on the Lord’s Day to meet Jesus again. The only difference between ourselves and those two disciples of Jesus at Emmaus is that Jesus should be no stranger to us. We’ve had two thousand and more years to get acquainted with Jesus. The point to remember is that we need to put our mind to all this when we gather on the Lord’s Day.

It would be nice, wouldn’t it, if we could say to one another as we were driving home after Mass: “Were not our hearts burning within us when He explained the scriptures and broke bread with us?” Well, perhaps we are not at that point of “burning hearts” yet, but it’s something to be hoped for, isn’t it? It’s all about recognizing Jesus.

The scriptures: Acts 2: 14, 22-23; 1 Peter 1: 17-21; Luke 24, 13-35

Posted by Cindy Lentine at 01:01 AM.