I have had the blessing of having served the diocese as pastor for 22 years. Stationed in three different pastorates, I know first hand the efforts that parish catechetical leaders invest in procuring catechists, the men, women and young adults who volunteer their time to share the faith with our children and teens.
Do you recall the famous musical “Fiddler on the Roof” in which the lead character Tevye, a poor Jewish milkman with five daughters, cries out to the heavens, “I know, I know. We are Your chosen people. But, once in a while, can’t You choose someone else?”
“Though gradually, though no one remembers exactly how it happened, the unthinkable becomes tolerable. And then acceptable. And then legal. And then applaudable.” — Joni Eareckson Tada Earlier this month, people were stunned by the news of a 29-year-old mother from northern New Jersey who slit the throat of her 5-day-old newborn son killing him while her family ate dinner in the other room. After calling 911, the young mother was arrested and charged with the baby’s murder.
You know, going to school is like taking up residence in a town unto itself. Think about it. For six and one half hours per day, you not only learn here, you live here. As in any town, the inhabitants are usually families. So, let’s imagine then that every classroom is a family, every floor a neighborhood of families, made up of all types of people.
Many people in our current culture try to de-divinize Christ by suggesting that, at best, his mission and ministry was that of a noble humanitarian. I recall overhearing a non-Christian once remark, “Jesus was a good person.” No doubt we have all heard similar “compliments” directed toward non-practicing Christians, Jews, Moslems or even atheists. Within such a worldview, we shouldn’t be surprised when Jesus Christ himself is described as a humanitarian.
In the encyclical letter of Blessed Paul VI entitled Mysterium Fidei , we are told that the Eucharist is “the font of life that cleanses us, strengthens us to live not for ourselves but for God and to be united to each other by the closest ties of love.” This is an important point because the pontiff is pointing toward the social dimension of the Eucharist.
Isn’t it true that each of us can identify special turning points in our lives? One of the turning points in my life was taking the required Ecclesiology course when I was preparing for the priesthood. Ecclesiology (the study of the theology of the Church) was taught by a young priest-professor, Father Richard Asakiewicz, from the Archdiocese of Newark. My seminary class at Seton Hall’s School of Theology was one of the last taught by Father Asakiewicz before his untimely death at age 45.
Theology of the body: Part eight of a nine part series. “For Christians, all the creatures of the material universe find their true meaning in the incarnate Word, for the Son of God has incorporated in his person part of the material world, planting in it a seed of definitive transformation.” (Pope Francis, “Laudato Si’,” pa. 235)
“The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ, her Lord; she is his new creation by water and the Word.” Such begins the famous 19th century hymn by Church of England minister, Samuel J. Stone. For more than 100 years, Christians from most mainline Protestant denominations have sung the hymn on Sunday mornings at church services and, since the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s, at Mass in the Catholic Church.
In one of his post-Resurrection appearances to the disciples, Jesus comes upon the weary fishermen after a night of having caught nothing. They were not far from the shore, an indication that they were ready to “call it a night” when, suddenly Jesus asks if they have any fish. They reply that they have nothing; so Jesus (they do not recognize him yet) instructs them to cast their nets off onto the other side of the boat.
To say the words, “I believe in God” as a living, eternal being is a matter of common belief that makes sense for most people. To say, “I believe in the Church,” however, is quite another matter. Many people find it difficult to profess belief in a thing, an apparent non-living entity like a church.
We American Catholics are quite familiar with the Nicene Creed because we recite it at every Sunday Mass and at Masses on Holy Days of Obligation. In other countries, including Canada, Catholics are not so familiar with the Nicene Creed because their national conference of bishops chose instead to use the Apostles Creed at Sunday Mass with the Nicene Creed reserved for holy days.
This section of the Catechism opens with several Gospel personalities being considered, including John the Baptist, his mother Elizabeth, as well as, Jesus and his mother Mary. Elizabeth and Mary were cousins which means that Jesus and John were second cousins.
In the Acts of the Apostles, Luke speaks about an angel liberating St. Peter from prison in Jerusalem. Peter’s release is something good. It convinced this disciple that the Lord was indeed at work in his life but the angel’s intervention creates a question which sticks out like a hawk in a chicken coop. Why didn’t the angel save our first Pope from his second imprisonment in Rome?
Nowadays it is common to see mission statements formulated for non-profit organizations and other service oriented groups. Many parishes even have a “parish mission statement” that is written on the cover of the parish bulletin or highlighted on the parish website that seeks to capture the direction or desired goals of the parish community.
Theology of the body: Part six of a nine part series. “We are always capable of going out of ourselves towards the other. Unless we do this, other creatures will not be recognized for their true worth; we are unconcerned about caring for things for the sake of others; we fail to set limits on ourselves in order to avoid the suffering of others or the deterioration of our surroundings.” (Pope Francis, “Laudato Si’,” pa. 208)
The first reference to the Holy Spirit, “the Lord and Giver of Life,” in the Bible is found in the first few sentences. As the Book of Genesis opens we read: “In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth — and the earth was without form or shape, with darkness over the abyss and a mighty wind sweeping over the waters” (Gn 1:1-2).
The year was 1970. The lyrics of Simon and Garfunkel’s Bridge Over Troubled Water filled the air as we, classmates, were singing from the bleachers of our middle school’s gym, following the reception of our eighth grade diplomas. The eerie verses of the song echoed a foreboding, if not, haunting perspective on the world which awaited us in the next segment of our educational journey.
In the 1970s I volunteered at my home parish to meet and greet visitors, prepare the church for special Masses and the parish hall for special events. On one occasion I stood in the atrium between the church and parish center to greet members of a new group called the “Charismatic Renewal” that was gathering to use our facility.
Theology of the body: Part five of a nine part series. …valuing one’s own body in its femininity or masculinity is necessary if I am going to be able to recognize myself in an encounter with someone who is different. In this way we can joyfully acc e p t t h e s p e c i fic gifts of another man or woman, the work of God the Creator, and find mutual enrichment. (Pope Francis, “Laudato Si’,” pa. 155)