Sometimes we have the idea that conversion implies clarity. When we see someone who, because they have discerned a call from God, changes their mind on purpose and commits themselves to a new course of action, we imagine that they are able to do so because they are sure of what they are doing.
We wonder where they get the strength and conviction to risk the commitment, and we figure that they have deliberated within themselves and are secure and convinced of what they are doing. We guess that they have access to a level of clarity which is, unfortunately, denied to us.
Yesterday we read the account of the conversion of Saul from the Acts of the Apostles, and it shows that the opposite is the case. The immediate effect of God's intervention in Saul's life is that he goes blind. After this converting event, he has to be led by the hand. He doesn't recover his sight until he received the care and ministry of another disciple, Ananais.
Saul's conversion put him in a place where he lost his clarity, and it was a while before he recovered it and re-emerged as Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles.
The genuine experience of God that will lead to conversion if we allow it does not necessarily produce clarity. It may rob us of the clarity we thought we had and lead us to doubts that are more agonizing than the ones we had before.
If conversion gave us clarity, there would be no risk and vulnerability. And without these there can be no true love. The leap of faith is a leap into vulnerability. It is just this kind of risky love. The light of God is so bright that our little hearts and minds experience it as darkness. To believe it is light nonetheless is the un-clarity of faith. To accept it in love is to be converted.
p.s. Special thanks to SFO mom for giving us a link on her site!
May 6, 2006
May 5, 2006
Liturgical Dance
I'm not surprised that our slightly pompous post from yesterday produced some comments, though it didn't turn out to be the flame bait I had thought it might be.
In one comment our Franciscan friend Jason challenged us to render comment on the Gospel procession from somewhere called St. Nicholas. Apparently their little video was circulating a while back and drawing the ire of the more conservative catholic bloggers. Check it out here.
Now I don't know the place or its background, so it's dangerous to make any claims about it based on this little video. But it is true that this general question of "liturgical dance" produces a lot of strong feelings. For some it is a liberating expression of joy. Others see it as a hippie accretion bordering on sacrilege. So what can we say? Is this sort of thing justified, or even just o.k.? Well, yes and no.
If you haven't seen anything like it, I would recommend The Dancing Church, a video of African Poor Clare sisters put together by Paulist Father Thomas Kane. Here you can see liturgical dance working as worship. It works because it is an inculturation of the Gospel into a dancing culture in which dance is integral to prayer and praise.
It doesn't work so well when north Americans of European ancestry try to do it. Why? Because we come from the culture that produced the sober and understated Roman liturgy we all know and love. When we start trying to do liturgical dance, it's not a legitimate inculturation, but an effort to invent our own liturgy, to do what we feel like doing. And thus it becomes one more symptom of the greater problem (brought to us via the New Age, I think) that we can invent our own religion and worship according to our tastes and fashions.
So if you're an African Poor Clare, praise God in your dance. But if you're a white, suburban European-American, get over yourself, and, as the Beastie Boys put it, stop "dancing around like you think you're Janet Jackson."
In one comment our Franciscan friend Jason challenged us to render comment on the Gospel procession from somewhere called St. Nicholas. Apparently their little video was circulating a while back and drawing the ire of the more conservative catholic bloggers. Check it out here.
Now I don't know the place or its background, so it's dangerous to make any claims about it based on this little video. But it is true that this general question of "liturgical dance" produces a lot of strong feelings. For some it is a liberating expression of joy. Others see it as a hippie accretion bordering on sacrilege. So what can we say? Is this sort of thing justified, or even just o.k.? Well, yes and no.
If you haven't seen anything like it, I would recommend The Dancing Church, a video of African Poor Clare sisters put together by Paulist Father Thomas Kane. Here you can see liturgical dance working as worship. It works because it is an inculturation of the Gospel into a dancing culture in which dance is integral to prayer and praise.
It doesn't work so well when north Americans of European ancestry try to do it. Why? Because we come from the culture that produced the sober and understated Roman liturgy we all know and love. When we start trying to do liturgical dance, it's not a legitimate inculturation, but an effort to invent our own liturgy, to do what we feel like doing. And thus it becomes one more symptom of the greater problem (brought to us via the New Age, I think) that we can invent our own religion and worship according to our tastes and fashions.
So if you're an African Poor Clare, praise God in your dance. But if you're a white, suburban European-American, get over yourself, and, as the Beastie Boys put it, stop "dancing around like you think you're Janet Jackson."
May 4, 2006
Addition
Check out Brother Chris. He's a friar of the OFM studying in Rome, and is personally known to your humble blogger as a humble and upstanding man.
I've added him to the "Franciscan Blogroll"
I've added him to the "Franciscan Blogroll"
Blessings and Woes
Yesterday I ran across a little conflict that was going on over at the always exciting and informative The Cafeteria is Closed. It was over someone's characterization of the Voice of the Faithful movement, but certainly falls into the general category of catholic progressive vs. conservative quarreling. I threw in my two cents in a comment, but didn't feel good about it later. Why?
I think it's because I have problems with both sides of this classic debate.
You "liberal" and "progressive" catholics, you VOTF types, you're great because you insist on justice both within the structures of the church and in the larger world. You take the church's teaching on social sin seriously and understand that part of our vocation is to do something about it. You put church rules into a proper perspective because you believe the good news that our righteousness comes to us apart from the law.
But sometimes you don't understand that the relativism, moral chaos, and pervasive "culture of death" of the early 21st century demands a church that stands for its own positions strongly and plainly. You know that the Gospel is about liberation, but sometimes you can't tell the difference between the liberation that the Holy Spirit desires and every spurious form of human liberation that the world offers. Thus you sometimes want everyone to endorse homosexuality and every other form of moral chaos that the liberals of the world dream up to justify whatever it is they feel like doing. In your ecumenical spirit you attend to other faith traditions, being sure to scrupulously respect their customs and traditions, but when you come home you don't care whether your own Eucharist is licit or sometimes even whether it is valid. And you, for all of your liberal identity, are often the most intolerant of all.
And you "conservative" and "traditionalist" catholics, you EWTN types, you're great because you understand that our time demands that we rebuild our catholic culture. You understand that we need to distinguish ourselves with a proper identity amid all of the competing truth claims in our relativistic world. You see clearly that this demands a back-to-basics approach wherein we simply follow the instructions and take our own legislation seriously. You know that our liturgy and customs need to be protected from the false recipes for liberation that the world offers, from the ever-increasing pressure of New Age accretions, and the impulse to syncretism masked as inter-religious dialogue.
But you too sometimes fall into errors. You sometimes take on some of the conservative views that the world offers, getting mixed up in nationalism. You can be dismissive of the spiritual depth of the liberation experienced by the older generation through the changes of the Second Vatican Council. Sometimes you don't know the difference between retrieving our tradition (for our time) and just trying to restore what was before. And you can be a trifle self-satisfied in your views.
I think it's because I have problems with both sides of this classic debate.
You "liberal" and "progressive" catholics, you VOTF types, you're great because you insist on justice both within the structures of the church and in the larger world. You take the church's teaching on social sin seriously and understand that part of our vocation is to do something about it. You put church rules into a proper perspective because you believe the good news that our righteousness comes to us apart from the law.
But sometimes you don't understand that the relativism, moral chaos, and pervasive "culture of death" of the early 21st century demands a church that stands for its own positions strongly and plainly. You know that the Gospel is about liberation, but sometimes you can't tell the difference between the liberation that the Holy Spirit desires and every spurious form of human liberation that the world offers. Thus you sometimes want everyone to endorse homosexuality and every other form of moral chaos that the liberals of the world dream up to justify whatever it is they feel like doing. In your ecumenical spirit you attend to other faith traditions, being sure to scrupulously respect their customs and traditions, but when you come home you don't care whether your own Eucharist is licit or sometimes even whether it is valid. And you, for all of your liberal identity, are often the most intolerant of all.
And you "conservative" and "traditionalist" catholics, you EWTN types, you're great because you understand that our time demands that we rebuild our catholic culture. You understand that we need to distinguish ourselves with a proper identity amid all of the competing truth claims in our relativistic world. You see clearly that this demands a back-to-basics approach wherein we simply follow the instructions and take our own legislation seriously. You know that our liturgy and customs need to be protected from the false recipes for liberation that the world offers, from the ever-increasing pressure of New Age accretions, and the impulse to syncretism masked as inter-religious dialogue.
But you too sometimes fall into errors. You sometimes take on some of the conservative views that the world offers, getting mixed up in nationalism. You can be dismissive of the spiritual depth of the liberation experienced by the older generation through the changes of the Second Vatican Council. Sometimes you don't know the difference between retrieving our tradition (for our time) and just trying to restore what was before. And you can be a trifle self-satisfied in your views.
May 3, 2006
A Fraternal Economy
Don left us a supportive comment on our May Day post, and made some astute observations regarding the nature of our world's economy. (He also made me notice that my comment settings were set very strictly, so my apologies to anyone who wished to comment but was not allowed.)
The neo-liberal, capitalist project of globalization is dedicated to the production of wealth. We here in the United States package it as "democracy" so that it sounds like something desirable, and then try to sell it to the world. But wealth in itself is no value. Wealth only means something if it produces weal, or common good. If wealth is produced for the sake of wealth it becomes an idol, and, like all idols, ultimately disrespects the idolator by destroying his soul.
The practical consequence of this kind of political economy is that it makes economy and wealth logically prior to persons, rather than the other way around. Economy ought to be derived from the needs of persons and the common good, rather than the production of wealth and security. Instead of security and independence as values in themselves we need a system that fosters inter-dependence and mutual care.
The current minister general of the Capuchin Franciscans, John Corriveau, OFM Cap., has done quite a bit of writing on this topic. He calls for a "fraternal economy" based on inter-dependence rather than security and the common good rather than the production of wealth in itself.
You can check out some of his "circular letters" here.
The neo-liberal, capitalist project of globalization is dedicated to the production of wealth. We here in the United States package it as "democracy" so that it sounds like something desirable, and then try to sell it to the world. But wealth in itself is no value. Wealth only means something if it produces weal, or common good. If wealth is produced for the sake of wealth it becomes an idol, and, like all idols, ultimately disrespects the idolator by destroying his soul.
The practical consequence of this kind of political economy is that it makes economy and wealth logically prior to persons, rather than the other way around. Economy ought to be derived from the needs of persons and the common good, rather than the production of wealth and security. Instead of security and independence as values in themselves we need a system that fosters inter-dependence and mutual care.
The current minister general of the Capuchin Franciscans, John Corriveau, OFM Cap., has done quite a bit of writing on this topic. He calls for a "fraternal economy" based on inter-dependence rather than security and the common good rather than the production of wealth in itself.
You can check out some of his "circular letters" here.
May 2, 2006
Feast of Athanasius
Athanasius writes in his Orations Against the Arians:
But if it is for our sakes that he sanctifies himself, which he did when he became a human being, then it is quite clear that the descent of the Spirit upon him in the Jordan was a descent upon us, because of our body which he carried.
The Son of God was not incarnate in a human nature, but in our human nature; the story of the good news of Jesus Christ is not a tale of a single, discrete human being, but is our story. The doctrine of the two natures of Christ, fully human and fully divine, means that when you read the Gospel you are reading about yourself.
And this is why the Resurrection is more than the greatest miracle that ever happened. It is the renovation of our human condition, that we might be able to call God our Father in the same way that the Eternal Word does in the inner life of the Trinity. What a gift!
A fine, recent translation of Athanasius is available in the Routledge Early Church Fathers series.
But if it is for our sakes that he sanctifies himself, which he did when he became a human being, then it is quite clear that the descent of the Spirit upon him in the Jordan was a descent upon us, because of our body which he carried.
The Son of God was not incarnate in a human nature, but in our human nature; the story of the good news of Jesus Christ is not a tale of a single, discrete human being, but is our story. The doctrine of the two natures of Christ, fully human and fully divine, means that when you read the Gospel you are reading about yourself.
And this is why the Resurrection is more than the greatest miracle that ever happened. It is the renovation of our human condition, that we might be able to call God our Father in the same way that the Eternal Word does in the inner life of the Trinity. What a gift!
A fine, recent translation of Athanasius is available in the Routledge Early Church Fathers series.
May 1, 2006
May Day
May Day, the great feast day of many labor movements, and it's made all the more relevant here in the United States this year by the increasing debate on immigration.
And for us Catholics it's the feast of St. Joseph the Worker, instituted by Pius XII in 1955 in an effort to show that the catholic church also cares about labor. This has been especially true since Leo XIII began the great documentary tradition of modern catholic social teaching, our "best kept secret."
Work is a complicated thing. On the one hand, it is meant to be humankind's great dignity, a sharing in the creative overflow of the goodness of God; this is the sense of the God of Genesis 1 who put our first parents in the middle of the garden to care for and cultivate the earth. On the other hand, work often gets mixed up with injustice and sin, and here we see the curse of toil and suffering of Genesis 3.
Many of us in the northern hemisphere are lucky enough to be able to support ourselves through work that is stimulating, interesting, and may even contribute to the common good. But today let's remember the injustices and the sufferings inflicted upon the workers who make our clothes and our food, and do so many other things that make our life possible. Part of the ease of our life is bought at the expense of theirs, and this is a great sin that many of us carry with us always.
We don't need to do anything to commit this sin. It is all around us. The moral odds are stacked against us without our even reflecting on it. So let's opt out of dehumanizing economies as much as we can, and try to create justice and human dignity wherever we happen to be.
And for us Catholics it's the feast of St. Joseph the Worker, instituted by Pius XII in 1955 in an effort to show that the catholic church also cares about labor. This has been especially true since Leo XIII began the great documentary tradition of modern catholic social teaching, our "best kept secret."
Work is a complicated thing. On the one hand, it is meant to be humankind's great dignity, a sharing in the creative overflow of the goodness of God; this is the sense of the God of Genesis 1 who put our first parents in the middle of the garden to care for and cultivate the earth. On the other hand, work often gets mixed up with injustice and sin, and here we see the curse of toil and suffering of Genesis 3.
Many of us in the northern hemisphere are lucky enough to be able to support ourselves through work that is stimulating, interesting, and may even contribute to the common good. But today let's remember the injustices and the sufferings inflicted upon the workers who make our clothes and our food, and do so many other things that make our life possible. Part of the ease of our life is bought at the expense of theirs, and this is a great sin that many of us carry with us always.
We don't need to do anything to commit this sin. It is all around us. The moral odds are stacked against us without our even reflecting on it. So let's opt out of dehumanizing economies as much as we can, and try to create justice and human dignity wherever we happen to be.
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