During the Veneration of the Cross on Good Friday, which follows the Intercessions and Collection, the Choirs traditionally sing the Reproaches. Some parishes, however, have replaced the Reproaches with another hymn because they felt that these were anti-Semitic. Truth be told, the early history of our Church was marked by anti-Semitism because the Christians believed that the Jews were responsible for Jesus’ Passion and Death. It was only during the Second Vatican Council in the 1960’s, that the notion of the Jews’ being “Christ-killers” was rescinded. The Jewish authorities demanded his death, some of the crowd outside the Pretorium demanded his death, the Roman soldiers carried out his Crucifixion. But all of us, humans, are culpable of putting Jesus to death.
We all know that the feast of St. Patrick is celebrated worldwide on March 17. But have we ever asked ourselves, “how did he do what he did in Ireland?” After all, Patrick, it is said, came from Great Britain or Gaul (present day France). He did not arrive on the Emerald Isle speaking fluent Gaelic. In fact, it is a miracle that he was not killed by the pagan Celts!
Last month, I went to Medellin, to visit a friend who is fighting his third recurrence of colon cancer. In our correspondence, William spoke to me about visiting an outdoor shrine dedicated to Our Lady, Mystical Rose to which many pilgrims flock with their candles praying for various intentions but, mostly for healing. So, when I arrived in Colombia, I had to see this shrine with my own eyes.
Many of us notice how the neighbors who put up their Christmas decorations right after Thanksgiving, are often found taking these down the day after Christmas. They do not even leave these up until the Baptism of the Lord, the last day of liturgical season of Christmas. When we consider how much work often goes into outdoor lights, the Nativity Scene indoors and the Christmas Tree, it seems so sad that just a few days after the bleak winter solstice, people are in a rush to take down and pack away these beautiful symbols of the Yuletide Season. That is, of course, if you are not of eastern European descent.
In 1099 A.D., St. Anselm of Canterbury completed a manuscript entitled Cur Homo Deus, (“Why Did God Become Man?”). This work became the classic treatment of the satisfaction theory of redemption. According to this theory, which is based on the feudal system of society, finite humanity has committed a crime or, more accurately, a sin against the infinite God. In feudal society, an offender was required to make recompense or, better, satisfaction, to the one offended, according to that person’s status. For example, a crime against the king would require more satisfaction than a crime against a duke or a serf, for that matter. Along this way of thinking, finite humanity, which could never make satisfaction to the infinite God, could expect only eternal death.
In just a few days, we will gather around the Table of the Lord for the last Sunday in ordinary time, the Solemnity of Jesus Christ, King of the Universe. We – incarnate spirits–created in the image and likeness of God–will gather to proclaim our desire to remain faithful subjects of Jesus, King of the Universe. Despite the temptations which we face by the exaggerated lure of freedom, packaged by society in those who speak about the sovereignty of the human condition and the infinite rights that we have by virtue of our being human, we, like Christians before us, concur that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Unlike the Blessed Virgin Mary, none of us can enter heaven without undergoing physical death first; however, only God knows when our death will occur.
When I was teaching World Religions at St. John’s University, I purposely taught my students a segment on Confucianism. Why? Because Confucius, at the time in which he lived, noticed that there was a lot of division in China. People were selfish. Tribes were warring against each other. What used to be good manners and citizenship, an appreciation for Truth, Goodness and Beauty or what Confucius called “Spontaneous Tradition” was no longer instinctive or, better, second nature.
Boys and girls, your day has come. This month, you finally receive the Eucharist. You know the word “Eucharist” comes from the Greek word eucaristia, which means “thanks.”
Have you ever had the privilege of watching children color eggs for Easter? They start off with a dozen or so of white hard-boiled eggs. Then they mark them with a wax pencil. Finally, they dip them in cups of colored vinegar-water where they soak in the dyes for about a minute. Eventually, the children enthusiastically raise the eggs from their respective cups, at which point the children smile because what were once dull, generic white eggs are now colorful and unique creations.
The story of Deborah, judge and prophetess, is recounted in both prose and song in Chapters 4 and 5 of the book of Judges. She successfully led a revolt against Canaanite domination in the north of Israel. The wife of Lappidoth, Deborah was a judge, a woman whose moral authority was seen as inspired by the Lord.
When I was a seminarian, one of my summer assignments was St. Paul Parish in Highland Park. This hamlet adjacent to New Brunswick, Piscataway and Edison is predominantly Jewish. There were four synagogues in town, Reformed, Conservative, Orthodox and Hassidic. All the children of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were represented – from Ashkenazi Jews, whose roots lay in Eastern Europe to Sephardic Jews whose olive skin speaks of their origins in the lands of the Mediterranean.
Today the Church catapults us from the Crèche to the Cross–leaving us to conclude that the motive for the Incarnation was Atonement–to make us one with God by the forgiveness which we could only attain through the suffering and death of God’s only Son, Jesus.
Here we are again at the beginning of another Advent. Now we begin a new Church year and a new cycle of readings from the Lectionary. It seems that the key word in any new year is “cycle” because we advance chronologically toward a new year; however, paradoxically, the Church’s time cannot be measured chronologically. Indeed, the liturgical season of Advent looks backward – in commemorating the birth of Christ; yet, at the same time, Advent points us to the future – not the beginning of 2024 but to the second Coming of Christ. In a certain way, then, we are suspended in time – remembering how God intervened in our salvation history through the sending of his only Son and anticipating this Son’s return in glory.
Private confession in the West became the only form of penance and no one questioned its validity until the time of the Reformation. According to Luther and Calvin, only Baptism and Eucharist were true Sacraments whose roots are in Scripture. Although Luther liked the dynamics of confession, because he felt that it might be good therapy for people to talk over their sins, he did not see this as a sacrament. Calvin did not like the notion of penance at all because it seemed to imply to him that one could attain justification by oneself. He feared that this bordered on semi-Pelagianism. In the face of this crisis, the Council of Trent made it a point to define not only the Canon of Scripture but also the seven Sacraments as instituted by Christ.
In the Torah or Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible, “sin” is a failure to observe the commandments laid before the people at Mount Sinai. In the prophetic literature, sin is a violation of the covenant between God and his people. Hence, there is emphasis on collective culpability and social sin. In the wisdom literature of the Bible, sin is foolishness. Whereas holiness or righteousness is depicted as true wisdom, that is, a healthy respect or fear of the Lord.
In Mt. 11;28-30, the evangelist speaks to us about the “hesed” of God, that is, the “loving mercy” made incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ. We pine for this loving mercy which we honor specifically on the solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Passover, the Jewish feast commemorating that day when God delivered his Chosen People from Egyptian slavery, begins on Wednesday night. At the Seder, before anyone eats, someone at the table, usually a child, asks one of the elders, “why is this night different from all others?” This sparks a teaching on the origin of the ritual which, for some, is new, for others it’s a review. Once completed, everyone knows why they do what they do — and all give thanks to God for Israel, for being his Chosen People, for the gift of life.
The feast of the Immaculate Conception gives credibility to the mystery of the Incarnation, the doctrine which holds that in the fullness of time, the eternal Son of God became man. After all, it’s hard to believe that God shared in our humanity. How do we know that Jesus was not dropped out of heaven simply clothed as a man? Well, our doubt is resolved by the Immaculate Conception which speaks to us about a plan. If the Son of God was to become man, then he would have to share in our humanity in all ways but sin. He would have to be conceived in an immaculate woman — for God and sin do not mix. He would have to grow from embryo to fetus to infant in the womb of one who would be worthy of housing a divine person.