God's Grandmother

Today the Church celebrates Saint Anne, the mother of the Blessed Virgin Mary and thus the grandmother of Jesus. The Pauline calendar revisions removed her husband Saint Joachim's separate feast from the calendar and joined his memory with that of Anne in today's somewhat downgraded celebration. So today is actually the feast of both of Mary's parents, both of Jesus' maternal grandparents.

 

In terms of historical facts, all our information about Joachim and Anne – including even their names - is derived from 2^nd-century apocryphal literature, notably the Protoevangelium of James. The account of Mary’s birth in the Protoevangelium has a certain obvious resemblance (including the mother's name) to the Old Testament’s account of the birth of Samuel. In the East the Protoevangelium was accorded greater authority than it was in the West, and there was a church dedicated in her honor as early as 550. Eventually, however, the story of Joachim and Anne was incorporated by Jacobus de Voragine in his 13^th-century Golden Legend, after which Saint Anne became one of the most popular saints of the Latin Church. It was Saint Anne whom the young Martin Luther invoked when he was famously caught in a storm and fearfully prayed, “Help me Saint Anne. I will become a monk.” Devotion to Saint Anne has continued to be very popular in the Church, and she is fittingly the patron saint of grandmothers.

Grandparents are an important part of the social fabric. As family life experiences increased stress in contemporary society, grandparents are often called upon to play a larger role in the raising of their grandchildren. Of course, in earlier times - before the nuclear family became normative - grandparents were often on the scene in extended family networks and often played a prominent part in the care and education of their children's children. Growing up I had only one living grandparent, but she lived with us. My mother worked part-time. so my grandmother had an important part to play in how I experienced my childhood. I've often traced my lifelong interest in religion in part to her influence. Since she spoke no English, she was also a very vivid connection to our Italian heritage.

For most of history our elders were valued for their experience and wisdom. In contrast, contemporary society has seen constant change - especially technological change - which has seemingly rendered the experience and the wisdom of the old less useful to subsequent generations. Now that I too have achieved senior citizen status, I am acutely conscious of my technological backwardness; and (more problematically) I realize that the experiences that formed my values are not the same as those of today's youth, for whom my "wisdom" is irrelevant ignorance.

In his very first address to the full College of Cardinals after the conclave that elected him last March, Pope Francis addressed this issue. “Courage, dear brothers!” he began. “Probably half of us are in our old age. Old age, they say, is the seat of wisdom. The old ones have the wisdom that they have earned from walking through life. Like old Simeon and Anna at the temple whose wisdom allowed them to recognize Jesus. Let us give with wisdom to the youth: like good wine that improves with age, let us give the youth the wisdom of our lives.”

It is perhaps not the best thing - in fact, I am sure it isn't - that we clergy are so disproportionately old. A more balanced age distribution among the clergy would better reflect society and better serve the Church. (As a practical matter, it would also increase the Church's overall energy and give younger clergy more time to learn from the experience of their elders before being forced to assume positions of leadership).

That said, it is our reality right now, which we need to own. Even as energy diminishes and health becomes more fragile, we need to continue. But we need to do so in the same spirit suggested by Pope Francis - not just soldiering on, but generously intoxicating the world with the "good wine that improves with age."

 

 

Santiago

Walking the Camino de Santiago de Compostela has become quite the contemporary fashion - even before Martin Sheen made a movie about it. All sorts of people - including non-Catholics and those of no definite religion - have taken to traveling the pilgrimage route to the shrine of Spain's patron saint, whose feast day the Church - and Spain - celebrate today. 

I have never walked the camino myself, and at this point in my life and state of health there is certainly absolutely no chance that I will ever attempt it. I have, however, visited Compostela and concelebrated Mass at the famous shrine. So I can somewhat imagine what it must have been like for authentic pilgrims past and present to have traveled there to invoke the intercession of Saint James at the end of their camino.
One of the original Twelve Apostles, James "the Greater" (so called to distinguish him from James the son of Alpheus) was the son of Zebedee and brother of John. Called early on by Jesus from the family's fishing business, the two brothers are frequently mentioned with Peter as the three apostles closest to Jesus. According to Acts 12:1-2, James was the first apostle to be martyred in a persecution by King Herod Agrippa, c. 44 A.D., the same persecution in which Peter was imprisoned by Herod but miraculously freed by an angel. (How James got to Spain and was buried in Galicia is the stuff of legend - a legend, however, which has inspired one of Christian Europe's most venerable pilgrimage traditions!)
In the Gospels, the two brothers James and John usually appear together - most famously in the incident in which the two asked Jesus to be given seats at his right and left in the kingdom (Mark 10:35-45). Perhaps that's what comes from being in the inner circle, from being among the most favored - that corrosive sense of entitlement that comes from being favored in society, what we see so often on display among those who are rich or otherwise attractive and regularly adulated for it.
The other 10, meanwhile, apparently neither accepted not were willing to cater to the status hierarchy advocated by James and John. Their jealous indignation prompted yet another instruction from Jesus about what his mission is about and what the life of any would-be disciple of his must therefore also be about. 

If following Jesus as a Christian disciple is to have any real meaning in this world, Jesus seems to be saying, then it must be different with us from the way it is with the rest of the world. This means a total reversal of the perverse value systems that make us exalt wealth, health, good looks, power, and the other symbols of status that we tend to be so enthralled by. As long as we judge ourselves and others by such superficial criteria, we will fundamentally miss the point of what the Kingdom of God is all about.

The fact that James and John went on to become great apostles and (in James' case the first apostle to be martyred) suggests that they did in the end get the point, which is the sign of hope in their story that the rest of us can in the end respond righty as well.

Summertime

Summertime and the livin' is easy ...

Who hasn't heard that song from Gerschwin's Porgy and Bess? Who hasn't sung along - and loved it? More than any other summer song, it seems to capture the idyllic fantasy of summer. Still, it's just a song.

For me, summer has always had two meanings. First, there is the physical summer - a season of insufferable heat and humidity under the glare of what Shakespeare in Romeo and Juliet famously called "the garish sun." Then, there is the psychological summer - a disordered time of no school, vacations, and the seasonal suspension of ordinary activities. I've never had any use for the physical sense of summer. I'll take winter over summer any time! The psychological summer, however, is more complicated.

Summer is, after all, the privileged time for vacation travel, and I admit I have had some wonderful summers "away" - Mexico in 1988, Israel in 1993, Windsor and WYD in 2005. None of these were, strictly speaking, vacations. They were all ministry-related and entailed a certain amount of work. But it was different work from ordinary work, and in a different and exciting place to be, with interesting experiences I would never have had at home. And, while I haven't been to the "beach" in years, I do treasure my memories of those 1950s summer days at Orchard Beach with my many cousins. Best of all, there is the "lazy" side of summer - less work to do or at least more time in which to spread it out, and lots more time to feel free to "waste." Grad school was that way. I remember those summers at Princeton in the mid 1970s. Even if most of the day was spent in the library studying, it was long-term study, not focused on work due in the immediate term. And even graduate students managed to seem more relaxed in the summer and so more willing to "waste" quality time with one another. (While air-conditioning has almost made summer physically endurable, one downside of it may be the lessening of that summer laziness, as now we try to operate more normally, doing more normal work in summer than we used to back when it was physically just too hard).

Certainly summer - the psychological summer - has some real merits, although even its merits derive precisely from its being a temporary exception to the rest of the year, a hiatus from the ordinary, ordered time we still associate with the cycle of the common school year.

For much of my life, the two summers - the hot physical one and the lazy psychological one - roughly coincided. School ended in mid-to-late June and started up again in early September. July and August were generally the hottest months and also the preferred vacation time. Sadly, global warming has not just made summers hotter but also longer as well - the physical season now generally including May and June, with the disappearance of spring also being one of the casualties of climate change. And one of the interesting challenges of life here in Tennessee has been adjusting to the front-loading of the psychological summer, as schools end in late May, and vacation time ends in early August. In the past, my eagerness to escape the physical summer and my emotional readiness to get "back to normal" at the end of the psychological summer went hand in hand. Now I find myself , at the end of a prolonged summer season, looking forward to getting "back to normal" in early August when there is still at least a month (and likely more) of heat and sun still to be endured.

Even so, what a great song Gerschwin gave us!

WYD Rio 2013

The Pope has gone to Rio de Janeiro today to celebrate World Youth Day - his first as pope, the first WYD in a Portuguese-speaking country, the Pope's first overseas trip since his election.

 

Since Blessed Pope John Paul II started World Youth Day in 1984, World Youth Day celebrations have taken place in Argentina, Spain (Santiago de Compostela), Poland, the US (Denver), The Philippines, France, Rome, Italy, Toronto, Canada, Germany, Australia, Spain (Madrid), and finally this year in Brazil.The theme for this year’s World Youth Day, fitting for this year of Faith in this era of “New Evangelization”  is Go and make disciples of all nations (Matthew 28:19). The World Youth Day 2013 theme summons not just the young people of Brazil and those participating in World Youth Day but all faithful of all ages to respond to the Gospel’s call to mission, to live for all the world to see as faithful witnesses of the Risen Christ, who has promised to be with his Church and accompany us until the end of time.

I myself had the happy experience of attending the 2005 World Youth Day in Cologne, Germany, with a group from our Paulist parish in New York. That was Pope Benedict's first WYD as pope, having inherited the already planned Cologne event from John Paul II as Pope Francis has in turn inherited the already planned Rio event from Benedict. For me, WYD Cologne 2005 was an exhausting experience, to be sure. It is, after all, a religious jamboree geared for younger people. But it was and remains a most memorable experience for me - and not just for its physical challenges.

 

World Youth Day is a celebration of faith and an embodiment of the universality of the Catholic Church.  One of its major elements is the catechetical sessions conducted daily in particular languages. In Cologne in 2005 our group attended two such sessions – one in a large stadium in Leverkusen, another in a parish church in Dusseldorf. (I was in the confessional for most of the second session. So I missed most of what was said.)  For all participants, the third catechesis took the form of a pilgrimage walk along the bank of the Rhine River to the great Cathedral of Cologne with its famous shrine of the Magi, a vivid reminder of their journey to Bethlehem and a symbol of the personal search for Christ. The Magi’s words, “We have come to worship him,” formed the official theme of the entire World Youth Day event, and throughout the week, the story of the Magi was progressively unfolded. Meanwhile, all week long, everywhere one went, there were the crowds of young people from all over the world, packing the trains, filling the streets, waving flags, and chanting. For the final papal Mass on Sunday morning, a new composition, the Missa Mundi, represented each of the five continents (as Europeans number the continents) in stuyle and instrumentation – a European Kyrie, a South American Gloria, an Asian Credo, an African Sanctus, and an Australian Agnus Dei. For me it was a true pilgrimage, one I am not likely to forget, and I certainly recommend the experience to anyone able to go.

Every World Youth Day is intended to energize the Church’s inner life and its mission outward to the world. For some it may inspire them to embrace a specific vocation in the Church. (At least one priest I know traces his vocation to his experience of World Youth Day 1993 in Denver). May this year’s World Youth Day experience in Rio encourage many people of all ages to become committed disciples and enthusiastic missionaries of the Gospel whatever their daily work and state in life!

Martha, Mary, and Abraham

My deacons are preaching at the parish Masses this weekend. So I have no homily to post. But this Sunday's familiar Gospel reading about Martha and Mary (Luke 10:38-42) - and the Old Testament account of Abraham's famous hospitality that the liturgy pairs with it (Genesis 18:1-10) - are just too good to pass up without saying something.

When I as in seminary, way back when, the well known story of Martha and Mary's sisterly squabble served as a sort of shorthand for stereotyping people (particularly one's classmates) as either "Marthas" or "Marys - workers or non-workers, productive types or early retirement types. One of my novice-mates even spoke of guys who worked to avoid prayer and those who prayed to avoid work! Needless to say, such talk had enormous potential for recriminations and resentment - just like Martha's complaint in the Gospel, Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.

Who, hearing Martha's complaint and feeling her pain, hasn't wondered: What was Mary's problem? After all, somebody had to cook the meal and serve it! Surely, Jesus and his disciples were expecting dinner!

A very important person once said: "Work is the rent you pay for living!" I suspect that's a sentiment Martha might have shared. Perhaps like some modern workaholic, Martha expected to be valued, appreciated, and respected for her work. That's actually a very ordinary expectation. But, as so often happens when Jesus enters the picture, everything changes!

I'm sure Jesus genuinely appreciated Martha's hospitality and did not disparage her efforts on  his behalf. But he could also look beyond all the frenetic activity on the outside to see the anxiety inside. I think he wanted to unburden her of that, lest she miss the whole point of Jesus' presence in her house.

It is, after all, a story about both sisters, both of whom are portrayed (in John's Gospel as well as Luke's) as loving disciples of Jesus. Here, the liturgy gives us a clue, inviting us to compare Martha, who felt so sadly burdened, with the happily hospitable Abraham (whom subsequent Jewish tradition would portray has having his tent open on all sides so he could see anyone approaching and so be ready to offer hospitality).

In Abraham, we find the perfect combination of Martha and Mary - the best of traditional middle eastern hospitality combined with total attentiveness to the person who comes as his guest. Recently, on one of the Gospels we heard Jesus tell his disciples to shake off the dust from any inhospitable community. Here, however, Abraham washes the dust of his visitors' feet, leaving them nothing to shake off.

Then, once the meal has been served, Abraham waits attentively to listen to what his guests have to say. Abraham offered food and drink and shelter and shade. His guests (God) gave him an heir and a host of descendants, among them the Word of God in person! God always has so much more to give us than we can ever do or give him ourselves.