Our Bright and Morning Star

Our Lady of Guadalupe (Dec 12)

When the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to St. Juan Diego, a humble, illiterate Indian peasant whose back was bent more steeply each day by the weight of Spanish oppression, the timing could hardly have been better.

In 1519, a band of Spanish newcomers organized the vassal nations of the mighty Aztec empire to overthrow it. For two years, Spanish incursions into Mexico had failed, but at last Cortez had found the secret: appeal to the natives' hatred of their own native overlords. The Aztec empire was rapidly undone, but what replaced it was not much better - not for the natives at least. They replaced one overlord for another, and the dark serpent gods of the Aztecs were replaced by the cruel whips of the Spaniards. Their impression of the Cross was that its long end cut like a sword. For twelve years they labored under this darkness, and their cruel oppression could only make a mockery of the love of Christ preached by the missionaries that accompanied the new conquerors.

In Europe at about the same time, the great darkness that had descended upon Christendom during the late Middle Ages burst into a storm called the Reformation. The Church began to hemorrhage there, as hundreds of thousands of people of all stations joined in the Protest of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, and John Calvin.

In this dark gloom a star arose. She was a Morning Star, the first light before the Sunlight, in a darkness so deep that she could almost be mistaken for the Sun at a distance. She was Mary. The Queen of the Universe condescended to speak to a peasant farmer of a crushed race, just as her Son had condescended to speak with peasant fishers of a crush race, 1531 years earlier. She appeared to Juan Diego, calling him "Dieguito," like calling him Johnny. She sent him to go speak with a bishop, a veritable prince of the new conquerors. "But what if he does not believe me?" To which she replied with a gentle reproach that has echoed through the ages, "Am I not here, I who am your Mother?" Little Johnny, Juan Diego, went to see the bishop. Miracles attended their meeting and the bishop was convinced. The picture she imprinted upon Juan Diego's cloak moved the bishop to tears. He ordered a great shrine to be built at the spot where the Virgin had stood, making Spanish roses bloom in the cold December winter of the central Mexican plateau.

A greater miracle followed. The Indians converted. Though Spanish law insisted that baptized persons be released from servile bondage, that incentive had produced few converts in 12 years of domination. Now, at a word from their mother, the Indians converted by the tens of thousands, nay, by the millions. Baptistries - chapels dedicated exclusively to baptisms - were built around the country, and the Franciscan missionaries had to send home for more brethren, so great was the demand for baptisms and catechisms. They complained about sore shoulders from pouring so much water over so many heads. The Virgin had called herself the Lady of Guadalupe - a town near the bishop's home. Historians speculate that she may have called herself the similar-sounding Coatlaxupe ("Co-ah-tul-ah-shoo-pay") because she spoke in Nahuatl, Juan Diego's language. Whether she called herself that or not, it is a name she well deserves, for it means she crushes the serpent. And that is what she did. With one fell blow, she undid the cults of the Feathered Serpent whom the Indians had formerly worshipped, along with its human sacrifices and bloodlettings, and at the same time she undid the cruel Spanish bondage to which the Indians had become subject, surely itself a manifestation of the malice of the same serpent who had slithered in the garden of Eden so long ago. Following the Morning Star, the Dawn had indeed come, bringing the Sunlight of God's own Son to Mexico.

Today, in Mexico City, a teaming metropolis with tens of millions of people from every country conducting every manner of business, the old pyramids of the Aztecs stand empty and desolate, while the gardens at the Lady's Shrine are swollen with greenery and life. The Basilica of Guadalupe stands as a visible lighthouse for Christian sailors at sea in the dark and raging waters of our times. The serpent seems to have arisen again, this time under the seductive guises of the gods Autonomy and Choice. Still he demands human sacrifice and turns women's wombs and doctor's operating tables into his altars. As tens of millions of children are murdered within their sanctuaries each year around the world, Our Lady, who appeared to Juan Diego pregnant with Our Lord and full of life, is again invoked to crush the serpent's head and to put an end to his reign of death. The Virgin of Guadalupe, already crowned Queen of Mexico and Empress of the Americas, has been designated by Holy John Paul the Great as the Great Protectress and Patroness of the Unborn. It is to her that we cry out: "Mother, save our children! Bring us back to Your Son!"

Mexicans frequently quote the prophet Isaiah beneath their images of the Virgin of Guadalupe: "God has not dealt thus with every nation." Indeed. He loves all people, and has given us His Son. And to those of us who fear Him and love His Son, He has also given His mother.

Remember, oh most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly unto thee, oh Virgin of Virgins, my mother. To thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. Oh mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy, hear and answer me. Amen.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, Queen of Mexico, Empress of the Americas, Great Protectress and Patroness of the Unborn, Queen of All Hearts, Mother of the Church, Mama, pray for us!

Images of the Invisible God

St. John Damascene, priest and doctor (Dec 4)

St. John Damascene (b. 676) is considered the last of the Church Fathers, a priest, monk, scholar, and he heavily influenced the last (Seventh) Ecumenical Council recognized by all Christians, the Second Council of Nicaea (787). That council was convened to settle a great controversy and threat that had arisen in the East.

The controversy was regarding the use of sacred images (icons, but also statues and other depictions) in worship. The Jews had generally resisted such things holding that one could not depict the Invisible and Living God - no image could capture his essence, and any attempt at an image of God was merely an idol. Christians had generally always tolerated images as a matter of course.

Now Arabic raiders and hordes fueled pressed in against Christendom. They were fueled by passionate conviction in their new religion - Islam. It had only two essential tenants - that God is One, and the Mohammed is His prophet. Yet, part and parcel with those convictions was a third - depicting God was to be forbidden. Everywhere the Muslim Arabs struck, they conquered: Christian Palestine, Christian Egypt, Christian North Africa, Christian Spain, Christian Syria, Christian Persia all fell to the Arabs by the mid-700s. Many Christians became suspicious that they had been mistaken to allow the use of icons. They became fearful that God was punishing Christianity for heresy, heresies that may have even spread by the use of icons. They pointed out that Islam - so crystal clear and simple - forbad icons. The Jews forbad icons. Why should Christianity permit them?

It was in this turmoil that John grew up, as his native Syria was being overrun and taken over by the Arabic hordes. The Muslim Arabs had a modicum of respect for Christianity and Judaism, and what wasn't destroyed in initial conquests and sackings was generally left alone - including the interiors of churches and homes. So it was the Christians continued to have their icons. But in fear was rife in Constantinople, the capital of the Christian East, where the remainder of the Eastern Roman Empire still held on by a fingernail. Several times the Muslim Arabs struck and were repelled, but a seige mentality of fear settled upon that great city.

It was then, in 726, that Emperor Leo the Isaurian of Constantinople began his war against icons. He began passing laws to forbid their use in worship, and even to have them removed from public places. The Christian Patriarch of the city objected, and the emperor responded by ordering an ancient image of the Mother of God, hanging in the cathedral, to be taken down and smashed in the town square. He and his followers became know as the Icon-Smashers (iconoclasts).

At the time, John Damascene was the chief councillor of Damascus and served on the court of the Muslim Caliph who ruled that city and much of the Islamic world of the day. John was a Christian laymen serving the Muslim ruler of his city because he had a very important skill necessary for civil administration and lacking among the Arabs of the day - John could read. Not only that, but John had received the very best classical education available in his time - he read and wrote Greek, Latin, Syrian, studied philosophy, the natural sciences, theology, history, and music. He was a diligent worker, and served the Caliph well, helping to protect Christians from unnecessary difficulties.

While serving on the court of an icon-hating Muslim, John began to write letters to the icon-smashing Emperor, and to the Christian Patriarch helpless to resist the smashing. John, though far away, was anything but helpless. His letters were a brilliant defense of icons. He argued that in the Person of Jesus Christ, God has fully revealed Himself, and thus removed the danger of idolatry formerly attached to images. He quoted scripture, "He is the image of the invisible God," (Col 1:15). "Since God had begun to use images, mightn't we?" John asked. Before our senses could not take in God. Now, because of the Incarnation of the Word of God, the Enfleshment of God, our lowly flesh could take in God - we can eat His Body and drink His Blood. When he walked among us, we could shake His Hand and see His Face. To extend those experiences to later generations by means of images is surely not contradicting God's generous gift of Himself to us. John Damascene argued that denying the use of images was to deny the Incarnation of the Son of God.

The Emperor was embittered by John's scholarly resistance. He ordered that within the Empire, John be refered to only as The Bastard. But he went further. The Emperor had forged in handwriting very much like John's a letter offering to betray the city of Damascus to the Emperor. He then sent the letter to the Caliph. The Caliph had John's hand lopped off for writing the note, and dismissed John from his court. This sentence was lightened, compared to how most "traitors" were treated, because of the Caliph's great love and esteem of John for his virtue. When John's hand was miraculously restored, the Caliph offered John his old job back.

Understandably, John was hesistant, and decided to seek ordination rather that returning to the court of the Caliph. The Bishop of Damascus ordained him a priest. He continued his defense of icons, and wrote several beautiful sermons about the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He made an encyclopedic compilation of all the philosophy of his day called The Fount of Wisdom. The Arabic philosophers who would later influence St. Thomas Aquinas and the Scholastics relied heavily on this book. His writings, and perhaps he personally, greatly influenced the Second Council of Ephesus, at which his doctrine of icons won out. He died sometime before or during the council (787), living to be perhaps as old as 111 (!), but exactly when is unclear.

Notably, as the Protestant Reformation (starting 1517) took its Calvinist turn (in the 1540s), Protestants began removing and destroying sacred images from their homes and from places of worship. While there isn't any argument made at the time connecting this new iconoclastic movement to Islam, one has to wonder. That was the same time period in which Muslim finally smashed through Constantinople and began overrunning Eastern Europe. By the time of Calvin, the Muslims were well on their way toward Vienna and Germany. Perhaps Protestants feared, like the Iconoclast Heretics of the ancient past, that the Muslim's success was due to their rejection of icons.

In our own day, we are grateful to see a renewed interest in traditional parts of Christian worship. The use of incense, consecration bells, icons, rosaries, statuary, and more in our liturgy and churches had shown a tremendous decline since the mid-1900s. Many of those responsible for removing and even smashing beautiful marble altars, replacing them wooden tables, throwing beautiful Stations of the Cross into dumpsters, and replacing them with abstractions entirely unrecognizable as artistry, have done so in the name of "updating" or "modernizing." That is, they were eager to aid and abet the great enemy of our time - the opinion of the "rest of the world," also known as secularism. For a generation or two, Catholics starting trying to fit in with their Protestant and secular neighbors who seemed so successful and powerful, just as Christians in St. John Damascene's day were so worried about their Muslim neighbor's plans. In the last decade or two, thanks be to God, we have seen a dramatic reversal in this trend. Can we doubt for a second that St. John Damascene has been pleading our case in the Heavenly Courts?

St. John Damascene, pray for us.

Islam, Reformation, and Philosophy

I don't really follow blogs - creating an irony in that I have decided to start writing one. But I do periodically check in on the Washington Post's comments boards for interesting tidbits. Here's one I'ld like to share:

http://newsweek.washingtonpost.com/onfaith/samuel_rodriguez/2007/07/the_muslim_reformation_time_fo.html

In it, the Rev. Samuel Rodriguez, president of the National Hispanic Christian Leadership Conference, and a Protestant, argues briefly that what Islam needs is a Protestant Reformation of its own. One Mr. Chase makes a briefer argument against him, in effect saying (1) there is no superstructure or hierarchy to reform against; and (2) the Islamic equivalent to a Reformation has already happened.

I decided to chime in and expand upon Mr. Chase's second point by looking at the philosophical underpinnings of the Reformation, and how those underpinnings are already in place in Islam, but have played out in a way that makes the Middle East a sort of photographic-negative from Europe. I have copied my argument below.

One of Martin Luther's fundamental gripes against the Catholic Church was its use of Greek philosophy to structure its understanding of the Christian Gospel. That is at the heart of his idea of "Sola Scriptura" demand: don't try to 'figure out' all this stuff - just read the Bible and do what it says, he insisted. The corollary was that religion did not "fit in" with the rest of reality as an integrated whole, but rather was a separate thing, a separate reality. Thus Luther's interpretation of the command to render to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's. The secular sphere and the religious had, in Luther's thinking, no real interaction (let alone integration). This disconnection is why Protestantism and secularism get along so nicely - each is content to let the other do its own thing without trying to connect between the two.

The Catholic Church, on the other hand, has always insisted that there is just one reality, one universe, and that its different facets have ordered relationships with each other. The most important facets of reality are those that pertain to eternal destiny, it argues, which are the same facets about which the Church speaks. Thus the Church takes for itself a sort of overarching supervisory position: not in charge of anything in particular, except religious life, but with a certain oversight of everything in general, even things like politics and scientific research. Naturally, politicians and scientists chafe at this ordering, and prefer a separation. A secularization, made possible by the Protestant Reformation, is what they looked for.

The problem with a Muslim Reformation is that it has already happened, and failed. In the 11th and 12th centuries AD, Islam saw its philosophical hayday. Ibn Sina (Avicenna), Ibn Rushd (Averroes), and Ibn Farabi among a host of others labored to integrate their Koranic religious convictions with systematic thought in a way that could give a "big picture" of the whole world, sustain scientific discoveries, and help address questions not obviously answered in the Koran. They were in pursuit of the same project that the Catholic Scholastic philosophers (Thomas Aquinas, et al.) undertook about a century later (and mostly in light of the progress made by the Muslim philosophers first!). It was the same project that Martin Luther rejected in Catholic Europe. In Muslim Persia the project was torn down by Abu Hamid al-Ghazzali, a theologian and cleric, like Luther, who was convinced that thinking about religion and faith somehow undid them. He wrote oodles of volumes, but his most significant is also one of his latest. It is most significant because it is a reversal of the earlier. "The Incoherence of the Philosophers" is a proposal of epistemological skepticism that would make Descartes or Hume blush. It denies any real ability to know anything outside of one's own mind, cutting off the subjective from the objective, the religious from the material universe.

So if this division of religious from secular has occured in both the Western world (in the 16-17th centuries) and in the Muslim world (in the 12th-13th centuries), why they both look so different from each other?

Simply put, the West has tended toward interest in the material and thus become more secular, while the Muslim world has tended toward interest in the religious and thus become more 'fundamentalist'. It was the same basic philosophical thrust to separate religion and the secular from each other that has allowed each to become unbalanced. If we separate the two so completely, we are left to chose between (on the one hand) a secularized scientism with no room for human values and transcendence, without wonder and awe; and (on the other hand) a detached religiosity with no room for inquiry or reasonability, nothing to prevent it from becoming unhinged in its own little mental universe, nothing to prevent it from becoming fanatical.

The two worlds we have thus face face each other in gaping incomprehension, each thinking of the other, "How can you be so obtuse?"

What is needed in both the Western world and in the Muslim world is a philosophical understanding in which there is one reality, and each thing has its proper place and can be understood analytically (in its parts and in itself) and comprehensively (as part of the bigger picture) - so that science is not closed to the transcendent and religion is not hostile to reason and thought. What is emphatically NOT needed in either the Western world or the Muslim world is a new Reformation, a new division of this-world from that-world. We've had quite enough of that already. Maybe, what is really needed is a new scholasticism.