TIME AND SPACE

I believe there is a time and a place for everything and that there is a necessary balance in human engagements.  This seems to be particularly important when it comes to entering the church for Mass.

The sacredness of the church goes back to the days of the temple.  We hear in our first reading how Judas and his brothers assembled the whole army, after their enemies were crushed, went up to purify the sanctuary and rededicate it. (1 Mc 4:36-37) For eight days the community celebrated the dedication of the altar, and to celebrate for eight days on the anniversary date thereafter.  I’ve been blessed to see 5 altars dedicated by the Bishops of the Diocese of Orlando, including the Cathedral and this altar.  Bishop Barron talks of 5 paths to understanding the Catholic faith to reengage those who have left or living on the fringe.  The first path is Charity & Justice, the second is Beauty.  The Church and her worship spaces, her liturgy are beautiful, but most often misunderstood.  The beauty and sacredness of our churches command and demand our utmost respect.  It is no wonder that we read of Jesus driving out the merchants telling them, “My house shall be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves." (Lk 19:46)

When I consider our own local house of prayer, the visitors I invite are in awe of the beauty of the sacred space, yet I can’t help but think of the many broken people who come.  The wounded and searching people.  Let’s face it, we are all to some degree broken believers who enter this sacred space seeking answers to and refuge from life challenges, seeking reconciliation with God, and maybe just seeking a fleeting moment of peace.

And so, Mother Church, over time, has developed norms which include an element of sacred silence to establish and cultivate an environment of prayer, while also acknowledging the human social dimension of welcoming and greeting.

The 2002 General Instruction of the Roman Missal speaks very specifically about silence before and during the liturgy.  Reading: “Sacred silence also, as part of the celebration, is to be observed at the designated times.” . . . “Even before the celebration itself, it is praiseworthy practice for silence be observed in the church, in the sacristy, in the vesting room, and in adjacent areas, so that all may dispose themselves to carry out the sacred celebration in a devout and fitting manner” (45).

I also found a reference (from the Introduction to the Order of Mass, a pastoral resource issued in 2003 by the U.S. Bishops’ Committee on the Liturgy) that speaks favorably of Mass attendees being “made welcome by representatives of the community and acknowledged informally by their neighbors.”

Now, I’ve seen both references taken to the extreme.  Where reverence for the sacred silence is strictly enforces upon entering church to the point that the environment becomes like a stuffy museum or welcoming equates to a constant chattering in the pews without consideration for those around them attempting to quiet their hearts to hear God calming whisper of consolation. 

So, I return to my opening line, there is a time and a place for everything.  Sacred silence and welcoming, done in proper balance, respects the sanctity of the sacred space and allows for the community to be welcoming, to be united in prayer and fellowship

FAITHFUL INVESTMENT

I attended the baby shower for my daughters second child.  My daughter and her husband are not actively engaged in their faith traditions, yet my son-in-law made a very faith-filled comment while they were opening the gifts everyone brought.  He blurted out in awe, how mysterious & wondrous it is, how a baby is formed in a mother’s womb and is brought into the world as a unique individual.  Some of us acknowledged this forming of the child as the hand of God active in their lives.

The mother in our first reading expresses the same message when she, “Filled with a noble spirit … exhorted … "I do not know how you came into existence in my womb; it was not I who gave you the breath of life, nor was it I who set in order the elements of which each of you is composed.” (2Mc 7:21-22) It seemed this was all that was needed for the youngest of seven to have the courage to see his faith through to the end.  A point of enlightenment for me is this is the Old Testament, before Jesus, moment that speaks of the faith in the resurrection.  An understanding and faith in God’s engagement that the sons and their mother offer their very lives as witness to this trust.

Jesus’ parable today speaks of this trust and faith.  This parable is less about the intrigue surrounding whether the nobleman would become king as it is about the people who were already loyal to him.  How would they spend the time while they awaited their master’s return?  Would they invest in the coming kingdom, confident in their master’s claim and authority?  Or would they hedge their bets, not sure whether their master would triumph?  In other words, did they believe in him, and did their faith translate into action?[1]

Each of us face the same questions: Will we invest in the coming kingdom?  Do we believe in Jesus enough that our faith translates into action?

I can’t help but to think, Thanksgiving is one week away.  For some the tension is building now, as we ponder how to engage in conversation on the many sensitive current event topics in politics and religion.  As family gathers around the table for the feast, “I beg you, child, to look at the heavens and the earth and see all that is in them; … know that God did not make them out of existing things; and in the same way the human race came into existence.” (2Mc 7:28)

When the opportunity to share our faith arises, to stand for the Gospel values, will this Eucharistic feast of Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection that we share and profess, give us the courage to put our faith into action, thus making an investment in our family and friend’s salvation and movement toward the coming Kingdom?

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[1] The Word Among Us, November 2019

LOST IN CREATION’S BEAUTY

Homer tells the story of Ulysses a respected warrior who is returning home, to the island of Ithaca, from the Trojan War.  Ulysses is a sympathetic, complex man.  He tries to do the right thing and usually pays attention to what the gods tell him.

He especially heeds advice from the goddess Circe who warns him about the “Sirens.” These two monsters, who pretend to be beautiful women with amazing voices, try to assure sailors, who pass their island, by wanting to entertain them with beautiful melodies.  What they really want, however, is to kill them.

But Ulysses wants to hear that famous song and still survive.  Circe has told him how to do it.  He orders his sailors to tie him firmly to the ship’s mast. When he is firmly tied, and his men have the beeswax in their ears, they row their ship alongside the island. 

When he hears the words and the music, the song enchants Ulysses’ heart. He longs to plunge into the waves and to swim to the island to embrace the Sirens.  He strains against the bonds nodding and scowling at his ear-plugged crew as if urging them to free him.  Expecting this reaction, the men row harder and harder with their oars to safety.

Today’s reading describes pagan philosophers so caught up in objects of beauty in creation that they lose sight of their Creator.  Sensory pleasure from art so overwhelms them that they lose sight of the invisible and more powerful realities at work.  In sum, they are ignorant of God.

Jesus too, draws on the stories of Noah and Lot to teach a similar point: It is so easy to get caught up in daily affairs, deadlines, and even desires that we lose sight of eternity.  The phrase “One will be taken and the other left” speaks of the tentativeness and passing value of life’s cares.  Being “taken” happens to us—it’s not something we plan for ourselves.

The question comes to me, is there balance in our lives?  Is God at the center of our being?  Are we so enchanted by desires for success or wealth, or the beauty of the world around us that we strain against the bonds of what we know are right & just to achieve our desires at any cost?  Perhaps the thing we cling to most is security.  It helps us feel control over the inevitable changes in life.  Jesus reminds us that control is not the mother of inner peace.

As we approach this mystery of true love, can we stand before God in gratitude for his freely given love and grace, not armed with a list of accomplishments?