Reflection 31st Sunday in Ordinary Time: Hear Oh Israel.....

On Saturday, 27 Oct 2018, a gunman entered a synagogue and opened fire killing eleven (11), and wounding several others.  As the last of those killed was buried, NBC presented the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead:  NBC Nightly News Kaddish -- Cantor Azi Schwartz of the Park Avenue Synagogue recites the Jewish Kaddish ( hat tip to Deacon's Bench).


Today's 1st Reading includes another very famous and common Jewish Prayer, the Shema:

Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD alone!

The homilist at Mass this morning pointed out that many devout Jews pray this every morning.  

In the Gospel Reading from today's Mass, a scribe approaches Jesus and asks him:

Which is the first of all the commandments?

Jesus' initial response is the shema (Dt 6:4-5).  He then quotes from a passage in Leviticus (Lv 19:18), saying:

The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.

In today's second reading, from the letter to the Hebrews we read:

      It was fitting that we should have such a high priest:
      holy, innocent, undefiled, separated from sinners,
      higher than the heavens.
      He has no need, as did the high priests,
      to offer sacrifice day after day,
      first for his own sins and then for those of the people;
      he did that once for all when he offered himself.
      For the law appoints men subject to weakness to be high priests,
      but the word of the oath, which was taken after the law,
      appoints a son,
      who has been made perfect forever.

Jesus, the living bread come down from heaven, the way the truth and the life, the light of the world, the Word made flesh, does not offer sacrifice for his own sins, but for the sins of the world.

He who did not know sin became sin, took on the effects of sin, so that we who are sinners might have eternal life.  In his passion death and resurrection he gives himself completely for us, and in each and every Mass, he gives himself completely for us and to us so that we may have life and have it to the full.

Are there Unforgivable Sins?

In the news lately there have been abundant statements, positions and hand wringing about decades old sexual relationships between adults and children, especially between Catholic clergy and some children, and Catholic clergy living as though the Good News meant nothing.  Some have referred to it as a crisis of Faith, and I think that's a good description of what has been happening.

Most of the comments indicate they think there is a serious and fundamental flaw in Catholic Teaching, Belief, and Ecclesiology.  It's as if they are saying "Those darn Catholics.  They're irredeemable."


This is of a piece with something that permeates our culture.  I first noticed it a few years ago, when a certain former NFL quarterback made a comeback after a stint in prison for 'dogfighting.'  Many people I encountered, even in my own family, acted as though someone who had been involved in this activity should never be able to get a good job, or maybe any job ever again.

That seems to be the attitude regarding those involved in these recently reported (though mostly long ago) events.  These men are so bad, they can never have a job, any job, ever again.   

This attitude seems to hold that 'dogfighting' is an unforgivable sin.  And the same can be said about child molestation, or sexual activity outside of Marriage, or clergy breaking their vows of celibacy, or not ratting sinners out to the cops.

But what is an unforgivable sin?  Are there sins that God will not forgive?  Is murder unforgivable? or rape? or theft? or perjury, or prostitution.

Jesus says ( Mark 3:29 ):

whoever blasphemes against the holy Spirit* will never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an everlasting sin.” 

This scripture passage is discussed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1864):

"Therefore I tell you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven.”

There are no limits to the mercy of God, but anyone who deliberately refuses to accept his mercy by repenting, rejects the forgiveness of his sins and the salvation offered by the Holy Spirit.

Such hardness of heart can lead to final impenitence and eternal loss.

The failure to repent of our sins can lead to final condemnation.

Every other sin is forgivable.  Jesus came into the world to save us poor sinners, and I say Thanks be to God for that.  Mary Magdalen, commonly thought to have been a prostitute, is heralded as a Saint because she repented.  Levi, the Tax collector, is a Saint, likewise.  The good thief is a Saint.  St Augustine, who shacked up with a woman, and fathered a child with her is a Saint.

Is child molestation or the failure to rat people out to the cops a more serious sin than that committed by St Augustine, Mary Magdalen, St Matthew, or even St Peter?

Is that an unforgivable sin?  I certainly don't think that is the case.

There is however, the need for repentance.  Some wrong doing requires serious penance.

George Weigel addresses historical sanctions for gross misbehavior in the Church at National Review Online closing with:

These decisions by Pius XI may seem antiquated and brutal to those who know only post–Vatican II Catholicism. But severe as they were, they were taken in defense of the Church, its evangelical mission, and the discipline essential to that mission. Such decisive measures, and the motivations that prompted them, should be kept in mind by the relevant authorities in Rome these days, as they consider recent revelations about the betrayals and crimes of Cardinal Theodore McCarrick — and as they weigh the grave and ongoing damage to innocent persons, and to the reputation of the Church and its bishops, that those betrayals and crimes have caused.

Sanctions applied do not suggest that the offense is unforgivable, but that penance is due.   And perhaps that is what is necessary, a greater realization of the consequences of sin.

Witness to the Faith or Silence in the Public Square

In a recent post I commented on a movie, A Quiet Place, discussing its' relationship to our culture.  I was reminded then and posted that:

My dad taught me to never make the sign of the cross at public gatherings.  

I gave up that practice several years ago.  Having read some talks and homilies by several people, including Charles Chaput, the archbishop of Philadelphia,  I began praying before meals in restaurants, making the sign of the cross, even as I did at home.

Chaput writes at First Things:

So let’s start with a simple fact: Catholics have never entirely “fit” in America. We’ve tried, but the results are mixed. In fact some years ago Stanley Hauerwas, the distinguished Protestant theologian, said that we Catholics not only don’t fit in America, we also know we don’t fit. And because we know, we’re doubly eager to prove that we’re more American than anybody else.

and:

I think we need to think and act in the same way Augustine did. Our task as believers, whatever our religious tradition, is to witness our love for God and for each other in the time and place God puts us. That means we have duties—first to the City of God, but also to the City of Man. It means working with all our energy to make our nation whole and good, even as we keep our expectations modest, and even when we experience criticism and failure. And finally, it means realizing that none of us can do this work alone.

It now seems as though whether I am with family at someone's home or in some restaurant, I am the only one there who makes the sign of the cross, and the only one who prays before meals.

This is not the case when I am with people from my parish, and I am very grateful for that.

This is the distinction between being a witness in the society and blending in with the society.

George Weigel and Roe v Wade Derangement Syndrome

In a recent post, I drew a comparison between the movies A Quiet Place and World War Z, and our current culture.  This led to pointing out that normal everyday speech can be labeled hate speech.

George Weigel writes at First Things about what he calls Roe v Wade Derangement Syndrome.

He begins by recalling a NY Times column by Barbara Ehrenreich from 1985, and her unique and callous view regarding abortion.  He then proceeds to discuss Ruth Marcus's recent op-ed in the Washington Post discussing the Down syndrome baby and abortion.

He then identifies Roe-v-Wade Derangement Syndrome:

“Not the child I wanted.” There, in a single phrase, is the moral dereliction at the center of Roe v. Wade Derangement Syndrome: If a pregnancy is inconvenient for career purposes, or the child to be born seems unlikely to tick all the boxes of one’s expectations, one makes the choice—“tragic,” as Ms. Marcus admits, or No Big Deal, on the Ehrenreich scale of values—to destroy the indisputably human life one has procreated. 

Weigel closes by discussing a recent Democrat primary election in Illinois, where pro-abortion and NARALPro-Choice America endorsed Maria Newman, said of her opponent Dan Lipinski:

I know what’s in his heart, and it’s called hate. This guy is dangerous. His views are dangerous.

Then Weigel correctly points out:

That is what Roe v. Wade Derangement Syndrome has done to our politics: It’s made it possible to say that what’s in the heart of a mild-mannered gentleman like Dan Lipinski is “hate”—and get away with it. The defense of the indefensible leads to rage, and rage becomes a form of madness.

You should read his article.

A Quiet Place for me

In a recent post  I commented and pointed to three articles about the movie "A Quiet Place" (Bishop Barron, White, and  Scalia).

Since then I have seen the movie, and want to write a few paragraphs about it in light of these other writers.

Bishop Barron, in addition to his previously linked article has a podcast discussing the movie (it runs about 1/2 hr).

White says of a Quiet Place:

there’s an Internet meme positing that the unexceptional horror movie might just be significant

Bishop Barron refers to it as:

 John Krasinski’s new thriller

And Scalia echoes the view of Barron, that the movie is a thriller and not a horror film.  I go with Scalia and Barron on this, and oppose White's take that it is a horror film.

Scalia sees in Barron's write up an allegory involving the silencing of speech.

White writes:

This is especially sad in the case of A Quiet Place, which merely updates the crude manipulation of The Blair Witch Project and never asks audiences to consider the narrative’s themes of procreation and self-defense.

This film has much more in common with World War Z, I am Legend and Warm Bodies, than it has with The Blair Witch Project.

It is a movie about a family living in horrifying and dire times.

Scalia begins with Zuckerberg's testimony about suppressing wrong and unapproved speech (or more accurately, suppressing written words) before it is published.  She then writes:

Preventing hateful speech before it is uttered (or published) creates an illusion of comity—we don’t see the hate anymore, so it must not exist! It still does, though, and—as with our hidden sun—each time it comes out of hiding, the hatred will seem that much more vivid and febrile.

But more importantly than the hate remaining and being very real is the very real possibility that normal speech will be classified as hate speech.

Before the USA passed the hate-crimes legislation, a Catholic Priest in Canada was arrested and charged with hate speech for reading aloud from the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  That should have been a warning to the USA of the dangerous path it was going down, but that warning went unheeded.

The movie, A Quiet Place, shows a family who remains alive, loving and growing in the presence of terrible forces by keeping silent.

This is similar to some descriptions of the Church in times past in this country where Catholics strove to blend in, to be accepted.

My dad taught me to never make the sign of the cross at public gatherings.  I'm pretty sure he learned this while in the army during WWII.  But in our home, and in other family homes we always made the sign of the cross whenever we prayed.

Silence in the face of terrible forces is also the motif in WorldWarZ,  where after only a few seconds following being bitten by a zombie, a person becomes another zombie and starts a crazed assault on healthy non-zombies.

This is very similar to the gay marriage conversion observed all over the western world in the last decade or so.  It is exemplified by the exchange between Sen Booker of NJ and Mike Pompeo at his confirmation hearing for Secretary of State.

Sen Booker is the zombie in a crazed assault on a healthy man trying to get him, and label his speech and attitude as one of hate.  This is what Zuckerberg was talking of suppressing through AI.

The dire and terrible times are upon us.

A Quiet Place is a very good movie and you should see it.

A Quiet Place -- a few posts

Bishop Robert Barron writes at WordOnFire about the movie "A Quiet Place."

I don’t know if I can find the golden thread that draws all of these themes together into a coherent message, but I think one would have to be blind not to see a number of religious motifs in this absorbing film.

In juxtaposition to this, Armond White writes at NRO contrasting "A Quiet Place" with "Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc."  White much prefers Jeannette, writing of it:

The story of France’s patron saint who was martyred during the Hundred Years’ War is told through the joyful noise of a heavy-metal musical.

He writes of it further:

So when Bunch caught on to A Quiet Place’s nuclear-family theme, he made a considerable point

and

A Quiet Place, which merely updates the crude manipulation of The Blair Witch Project and never asks audiences to consider the narrative’s themes of procreation and self-defense.

Finally, Elizabeth Scalia writes, also at WordOnFire, about A Quiet Place and relates it to the Zuckerberg comments on extinguishing so called Hate Speech.

Stopping difficult, controversial, or “hateful” words before they are uttered or published will ultimately destroy authentic engagement between people. It may leave our feelings unhurt, but the price of insult-free living will be more loneliness, more isolation, not less. 

Then she wraps up by tying into Bishop Barron's article on A Quiet Place

Bishop Robert Barron recently wrote about actor-director John Krasinski’s new thriller, A Quiet Place, calling it the most “unexpectedly religious film of 2018.” He sees numerous religious motifs running through the film, and I suspect he is on the money.

But to me, the story as described sounds a lot like an allegory for a time when all speakers—for that matter, all artists and writers—are expected to exist uncomplainingly within a narrow lane of social conformity, or risk being eaten alive.

Perhaps instead of obsessing about suppressing so called bullying, and Hate Speech, we should teach our children, or in my case should have taught our children, what my parents taught my sisters, my brother and me:

Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names can never hurt me

I Hope you enjoy reading these articles.

Easter: Eight Days a week

When I was young, the Beetles had a popular song entitled Eight Days a Week.  Here's a video of it.

It so happens that the Church celebrates Easter for Eight Days in a row, 8 days a week.  She calls it an Octave.  The Readings from Mass on Next Saturday,  7 April 2018 have a heading which reads:
Saturday in the Octave of Easter.
The Gospel readings for Mass during this week  are full of readings involving Easter Day.  

Monday:

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples.

Tuesday:

Mary Magdalene stayed outside the tomb weeping.  And as she wept, she bent over into the tomb and saw two angels in white sitting there, one at the head and one at the feet where the Body of Jesus had been.

Wednesday:

That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus' disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all the things that had occurred.

Thursday

The disciples of Jesus recounted what had taken place along the way, and how they had come to recognize him in the breaking of bread.

While they were still speaking about this, he stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you."

Friday:

Jesus revealed himself again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias.  He revealed himself in this way.  Together were Simon Peter, Thomas called Didymus, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, Zebedee’s sons, and two others of his disciples.

Friday's does not so much deal with Easter Day, but as another post resurrection appearance of Jesus.

Saturday:

When Jesus had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons.  She went and told his companions who were mourning and weeping.

Sunday:
(The eighth day of Easter)

On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you."

8 Days a week, I love you.
8 Days a week are not enough to show I care.

Jesus cares for us so very much.  Peter tells us:
Cast all your cares on him, because he cares for you.