Intentions of the Holy Father for April

Ecology and Justice. That governments may foster the protection of creation and the just distribution of natural resources.
Hope for the Sick. That the Risen Lord may fill with hope the hearts of those who are being tested by pain and sickness.
Showing posts with label exile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exile. Show all posts

Blessed Are You Who Mourn

I've been reading a very good life of St. Thomas More, James Monti's The King's Good Servant, But God's First. It is a critical collection of previous biographies and manuscripts, with any number of citations to the writings of St. Thomas More, especially of his correspondence with Erasmus of Rotterdam, a longtime friend of More's. The book does an excellent job of contextualizing the life of St. Thomas More, and of drawing reasonable inferences about the saint's habits and thought based on known premises and the saint's own writings. It also delves considerably into the spiritual life of the saint, and his manners and the conduct of his household. A very good read.

It is relevant under this title because it seems to me that St. Thomas More was one who mourned. Dietrich von Hildrand, in his very excellent book, Transformation in Christ, lays out some of the principle significances of mourning. Essentially, they boil down to feeling a sort of gap. The world, though redeemed by Christ, is still in process. There is a rift between what creation once was and will eventually be again (on the one hand), and (on the other) what it is now. We travel from Eden to Eternity, not as mere wanderers, but as exiles. We feel this most acutely at times of tragedy. "Right, mom's gone on to heaven. We'll see her soon. But I miss her now!" The response is perfectly reasonable. Soul and flesh were not meant to be torn asunder, nor were families, nor were friendships - such ripping apart is the result of sin, and we are right to be pained by it. We are blessed to be pained by them, to mourn our present condition, to weep in this valley of tears because doing so means that we are awake. To feel the tear means that we are conscious to reality. It is in this state of consciousness that we can have a real relationship with the Living God. It is aware of, and pained by, our wounds and the wounds of the world that we can go to the Divine Physician for healing.

The alternative is that taken by bleary-eyed optimists and addicts of all stripes: escape from reality. Rather than deal with the pain of reality, rather than unite themselves consciously with Christ Crucified for a fallen world, such folks dodge the present condition of the world and attempt to create their own substitute, either by a false attitude or giving themselves to the glamor (the word originally means illusion) of sin.

St. Thomas More loved his family, his country, and his king. He had no ill will against any of them, despite how he was daily maligned for not going along with the crowd. At first commissioned by King Henry VIII to defend the Holy Faith and Holy Church, More gradually found his companions falling away. As the king's pleasure turned from the defense of the Church to hostility toward her, more and more laymen, government officials, and even bishops abandoned the cause. At last, St. Thomas More found himself almost alone. Even family members attempted to persuade him to acquiesce to the king's lusts. Months in the Tower of London, interrogations, and even betrayals left More saddened by life's bitter turns and weary with the world.

"I am, said I, the King's true faithful subject and daily beadsman and pray for his Highness and all his and all the realm. I do no­body harm, I say none harm, I think none harm, but wish everybody good. And if this be not enough to keep a man alive, in good faith, I long not to live and I am dying already, and have since I came here been divers times in the case that I thought to die within one hour, and I thank our Lord I was never sorry for it, but rather sorry when I saw the pang past. And therefore my poor body is at the King's pleasure; would God my death might do him good." [Click here for Paul Scofield's performance of the speech in "A Man for All Seasons."]

It is important to note that More did not seek martyrdom, much less did he desire to die. Rather, he took very seriously the spiritual destruction going on all around him, and ultimately became aware of his inability to check it. So God prepared him with special graces for a special exit.

We must fight and resist sin at every turn. Firstly, we must combat it in ourselves. Secondly, we must love our neighbors and our enemies - otherwise we will only increase sin in the world. This part is harder than it sounds. Loving our family means protecting them. Loving our enemies may mean warning them of their sins and possibly provoking their rage. Thirdly, if combating our own sins and loving our neighbors and enemies has not exhausted us, we are in a position to combat sin in the world - actually to go on the spiritual warpath against it, rather than simply trying to keep it in check or at bay within our natural sphere of influence.


Mourning and Weeping in Lent

Throughout much of our lifetime, we try to be big, strong, mature, and wise - whatever we understand those things to be. Usually it involves putting on an act for ourselves, for our neighbors, and even for God. All He wants is for us to be His little children, His little boys and girls. Lent is a special time for God to break through in our lives - to puncture our defenses, pull down the walls we've put up, irrigate the dry and barren field of our heart.

But breakthroughs mean that things get broken. Getting broken (or being made aware of our brokenness) hurts. "Christ, the final Adam, by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself..." the Second Vatican Council teaches (Gaudium et Spes, #22), and being shown ourselves can be unpleasant. But He does not show us our flaws and failures in order to mock us. Quite to the contrary, according to the same document He does so in order to make "[our] supreme calling clear," in order to show us the great destiny He wants to impart to us.

For now we labor, "mourning and weeping in this valley of tears," but God will bring us out of the exile of sin and death if we permit Him to do so. While we do our penance, especially during this season of heightened penance, we have a great sign of hope. The Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of the Lord and our Mother, has already been crowned in glory after her long and patient wait. The Queen of Heaven knows what it is to make pilgrimage on earth. She knows what it is suffer in exile. We must not give up our hope, but fix our eyes firmly on heaven, ask God for help, and wait patiently for Him to fulfill His promises. He wants to purify and perfect us much more than we can imagine, and it is that painful purification that will enable us to enjoy heaven once we attain it. In the meantime, let us keep turning in prayer, especially to our gentle and loving Mother, so that she will help to smoothe our way and "show unto us the blessed fruit of [her] womb, Jesus."

Our exile is not forever (and neither is Lent).

Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our Life, our Sweetness, and our Hope, to thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Oh clement, oh loving, oh sweet Virgin Mary. Pray for us, oh Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.

Bringing Back Exiles

Last night I was listening to a lecture by N. T. Wright, given in Connecticut about 12 or 13 years ago. In it, he said that to understand the gospels we must understand how deep was the sense among 1st century Jews that their Exile had not yet ended. Sure, they were back from Babylon. On the surface, to us, things might seem as if they were great. But in fact, the exile was a deeper phenomenon than simply not being home. The exile was not being about what they should be doing, not being God's people, alienation from God's plan. Their continuing exile was most poignantly revealed to them in not being able to worship God in His home. The Temple was newly rebuilt, or almost rebuilt, in Jesus' time; but something was missing. God.

Solomon built the first Temple. Upon its completion with the installation of the Ark, the temple was filled with the Shekinah cloud, the sign of God's physical, tangible presence. When the Temple reconstruction project was finished by King Herod, there was no Ark because it had been lost during the Exile, and there was no Shekinah. The Temple was incomplete, and the worship of God, Israel's living relationship with God, was also incomplete. On the surface, they had been restored and their relationship renewed - the Temple was rebuilt. But inside, nothing substantial was happening, only sacrifices that didn't seem to do very much.

It is in this light that we are to read the Gospel, the Rev. Dr. Wright says. Jesus, by entering into the Temple, literally restores God's presence to it in his own person. Wright makes a good case that Jesus understood his ministry as a preparation for this re-entry. God restored to his Temple, God himself would restore the priesthood and the value of the sacrifices by offering up himself.

Those of us who are waiting on God's will are a lot like the Jews waiting for the Shekinah to return to the temple. Day by day, doing our best to do our best, we are never sure exactly what God has in mind, and the temptation to feel as if He has nothing in mind creeps in. It can feel like an exile from God's plan, an exile from God.

The third psalm from today's Morning Office (IV Thursday Ord. Time) is Psalm 147. The Psalmist sings, "The Lord builds up Jerusalem and brings back Israel's exiles, he heals the broken-hearted, he binds up all their wounds... he calls each one by name." This passage is a powerful reminder that God does have a plan for us, and moreover, that God is the one who will accomplish it. He wants to do His will in our life. It will make us perfectly happy, drying up every tear. We have only to let Him. The psalm continues, "His delight is not in horses nor his pleasure in warriors' strength. The Lord delights in those who revere him, in those who wait for his love." When we feel barren and cannot see how God is acting in our life, I propose that the best course of action is this: examine our conscience and confess our sins; receive communion as devoutly as we can, asking the Blessed Virgin for her help; and pray that beautiful prayer, the Hail Holy Queen, that says, "To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus." And then wait. We must let God show us in His own time.

And when we really cannot wait to know how the whole thing turns out, Psalm 40 might be handy: "I waited, waited for the Lord, who inclined and heard my cry, and brought me up out of the muddy pit..."