Showing posts with label Paschal Mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paschal Mystery. Show all posts

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Two Resurrections: Paschal Mystery in Loss and Recovery

In today's Gospel we heard about resurrection from the dead:  
Jesus journeyed to a city called Nain,
and his disciples and a large crowd accompanied him.
As he drew near to the gate of the city,
a man who had died was being carried out,
the only son of his mother, and she was a widow.
A large crowd from the city was with her.
When the Lord saw her,
he was moved with pity for her and said to her,
“Do not weep.”
He stepped forward and touched the coffin;
at this the bearers halted,
and he said, “Young man, I tell you, arise!”
The dead man sat up and began to speak,
and Jesus gave him to his mother.
Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, exclaiming,
“A great prophet has arisen in our midst, ”
and “God has visited his people.”
This report about him spread through the whole of Judea
and in all the surrounding region.  (Luke 7:11-17)
Of course, Jesus raised man who had died. What is not as clear is that he metaphorically raised his mother from a kind of death as well.

In a time and culture when a woman only had status if she had a husband or a son, to be a widow and to have one's only son die was a kind of death. Had Jesus not reversed this, her future would have been bleak.  Most likely, she would have been totally without resources. Her old life would have been gone, her new one a kind of living hell. Her future was hopeless, so when Jesus had pity on her, it was not just because of her grief, but because he knew what would become of her. The resurrection of her son meant she could live again and once more have an identity and dignity in her community. She, too, was "resurrected".

Do we have the courage not to lose hope in our times of dire loss and transition, knowing that Jesus can reverse the most negative of situations, as he did with the widow - as he did with his own death on the cross? Do we believe in Paschal Mystery - in the undying hope that Christ brought us?  Pray for the virtue of Christian hope. It does not come easy in a world sometimes so full of loss and pain.

Monday, July 5, 2010

Liturgy, Relevance and Paschal Mystery - No Gimmicks Need be Applied

In his recent address to the Liturgical Institute at Mundelein, Archbishop Chaput decried attempts to make the liturgy conform to the culture: "Trying to engineer the liturgy to be more 'relevant' and 'intelligible' through a kind of relentless cult of novelty [italics mine], has only resulted in confusion and a deepening of the divide between believers and the true spirit of the liturgy."  While I am no fan of liturgy that is so distant from the reality of worshipers as to be without connection to familiar elements of their culture, I have to agree that in my experience, the predisposition of some communities and presiders toward liturgical "gimmicks" HAS inhibited the ability of the people to develop a liturgical spirituality that focuses on Christ and the Paschal Mystery and not on their own self-sufficiency.

What the Archbishop is saying is that in our post-modern culture, the proper dispositions needed for a true liturgical spirituality are in fact extremely counter-cultural. They run against the grain of a world-view focused on the individual, empowered by science, knowledge and technology to such a degree that we feel we no longer depend on the help of God.  We no longer identify ourselves and all we are as belonging first to God, but as belonging to our nation, our family, identified by our personal relatioships, talents, possessions and jobs.

Chaput continues: "We need to discover new ways to enter into the liturgical mystery; to realize the central place of the liturgy in God’s plan of salvation; to truly live our lives as a spiritual offering to God; and to embrace our responsibilities for the Church’s mission with a renewed Eucharistic spirituality."

In my experience, only about twice have I heard a homilist even mention "Paschal Mystery" - yet it is this mystery - of Christ's suffering, death and resurrection - that is central to every celebration of the Eucharist. If the average Catholic understood that the primary reason we celebrate the liturgy is NOT to satisfy our selves with the opportunity:
  • to gather with friends they only see every week in church (getting the satisfaction of socialization)
  • to keep from going to Hell (fulfilling obligation)
  • to feel good (being "uplifted")
  • to be impressed or astounded by the musicians, the decor, or the preaching (being entertained)
  • to "get something out of it" (gaining something of value)
Archbishop Chaput's fourth and final point speaks to one of the most important attitudes that for many people is missing: "The liturgy is a school of sacrificial love. The law of our prayer should be the law of our life. Lex orandi, lex vivendi. We are to become the sacrifice we celebrate." 

He connects the spiritual sacrifice that we should each make to our baptismal call to "the priesthood of all believers." He suggests that people need to understand their role in the sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving that is the Mass -and indeed the essence of Christian life. The sacrifice should not merely be that of the bread and wine, (or indeed of the monetary gifts we give) but of the very lives of those offering worship. (See also the Catechism of the Catholic Church, 901)  Essentially, we need to offer and alllow to be consecrated our very selves for the life of the world and the work of God in it - sucesses, failures, gifts, burdens- all that we are - along with the bread and wine. And this not just during the liturgy but in every area of daily living as we are sent forth "to love and serve the Lord."

"All that we do -- in the liturgy and in our life in the world -- is meant to be in the service of consecrating this world to God," says Chaput. "...The liturgical act becomes possible for modern man when you make your lives a liturgy, when you live your lives liturgically -- as an offering to God in thanksgiving and praise for his gifts and salvation."

So, what happens when presiders, liturgy committees, musicians, art and environment committees try harder and harder to be "unique" or "relevant" or "less boring?"  When they turn the focus on trying to amaze, entertain, or distract by continual novelty of seasonal "theme," music or "gimmicks", they are actually committing abuse.

I have heard of priests dressing in costumes representing "Bert and Ernie" (both at the same time!), Santa or Barney (the purple dinosaur), of one who preached a Fathers' Day homily reclining on a lawn chair, of one who demanded that seasonal music for Christmas, Lent and Easter be "new" every year in place of the familiar "boring" stuff. I have seen a church build a huge "wall" in the sanctuary out of cardboard boxes, labeled with sins for Lent.  In many parishes, it is common for the choir to sing a well-rehearsed "showpiece" every week to show off their talent, without being burdened by the need for the people to sing along - a "stop and listen to us" moment.  No doubt most readers can think of at least one time when some new height of entertaining novelty was offered at Mass.  Our refrain as an American church has often been "Let me take you higher - and higher!" or "Let me Entertain You" - instead of  "Take, O Take Me as I Am."

The worshiping assembly has a right to understand what is truly important.  The focus and core of the liturgy is one thing, and one thing only: the Paschal Mystery- the suffering and sacrifice of Jesus Christ - which is the model for our own sacrifice. This is true both at Mass and as we are sent out into the world. This is NOT boring. It IS, however, counter-cultural in a world that values individual rights and power and measures the value of persons in dollars, possessions and position. Instead of gaining something, the liturgy actually asks that we lose something - our very selves -  becoming no longer an individual man, woman or child, but a member of the Body of Christ.

In our worship and in the world we should never lose the courage to be different - to walk in the humble, dusty, blood-stained footsteps of Christ and not those of the financial wizards past and present, the popular entertainers of music and film - the rich and famous "somebodies" who have become the idols of our culture.  To live a liturgical spirituality, we need to become "nobodies" in the eyes of the world - which translates to being beloved children of God, living in awe, worship, relationship and obedience - emptying ourselves like Christ (kenosis) - even to the point of death - on the crosses of our own sacrifice. When we are able to do that, we, like Christ, will be raised on high and have the glorious name of "Christian".

Thanks, Archbishop, for the inspiration.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Incarnation: God's Gift of Compassion

It's Christmas Eve and as I continue to process the death of the most significant person in my life, I have a growing sense that human suffering is truly the reason God came to earth as a human person.  Jesus, fully God and fully human, experienced both the best and the worst experiences of human life. The gift to us, is that because God, through the earthly life of Jesus, has experienced what it means to suffer loss, grief, pain etc, that God understands us and has compassion for us. (Compassio - Latin root meaning  = to suffer with).

I was told this a number of years ago when I did a Life's Healing Journey retreat with Peter Campbell, MSC, but at the time I only half believed it. After all, how can Jesus, who accepted and chose his path to the Cross, whose parents did not divorce, who never lost a spouse or lover to divorce or death, who was able to raise his beloved friend Lazarus from the dead, understand the wrenching depth of the pain these experiences of betrayal and loss create in the souls of human beings for a lifetime?  Betrayal, humiliation and crucifixion are horrible things, but Jesus only suffered for less than a day - while many people suffer pretty much for the rest of their lives.


In the intervening years, as I have come to understand Paschal Mystery (the suffering, death and resurrection of Christ - the central mystery of our faith) more deeply, I have had a better intellectual understanding of how this is supposed to work. Jesus, who accepted that it was will of his Father that he suffer, showed us that acceptance of the circumstances of one's life is the road to resurrection. This, I tell people when I teach, is why we have faith - so that when life deals us those huge blows, we have a "safety net". What has been more difficult for me to negotiate is the struggle to get the heart to join the mind in that acceptance.

As I write this, I am not there yet. 6 months is not enough time to process a major loss. What frightens me most is that people who have experienced such major loss tell me you never really "get over it." Somehow you just go on. What is not yet clear to me is whether there is reason to hope that any form of "resurrection"  (recovery and joy) necessarily takes place this side of the grave - or whether the promise is simply that we will be given the strength to perseve in spite of suffering and rise again on the Last Day to shed all our tears and pain as we go to our eternal life with God.


This much I do know - Jesus Christ became a human person to share the experience of suffering so that we could be sure that God truly knows what that experience is. He modeled a path through suffering resurrection that mirrors the experiences we have of being brought to our knees by the travails of life and being raised up again.  Whatever the full truth is, I am sure now that God does have compassion in the Latinate meaning of "suffering with" - that God cries when we do and God's heart is heavy whenever ours is. And that is the greatest gift of all - that this is not an impersonal deity who watches us cooly at a distance and waits for us to figure it out. If we are truly created in the image of God, then our emotional life is something God also shares. So, when God came to earth it was not only to share the experience of human suffering, but to demonstrate, through Jesus, how great that love is. The wood of the manger is the archetype of the wood of the cross. 


In that I find comfort, as I struggle my way back to trusting the God who gives and takes away. Blessed be the Lord who loved the world so much that He sent his only begotten Son as witness to that love.  Merry Christmas, all, no matter where your life journey has taken you - in sorrow or joy.