Month: August 2024

The mother of a recently married young woman came to the parish house to request the Sacrament of Baptism for her newlyborn grandchild.

From somewhere inside of me, my wisdom figure spoke ‘for’ me! “Do the parents wish that their child to be baptised?”

Silence!

“They do not go to Church,” the mother acknowledged into the silence.

“If the parents wish that their child is baptised we can set a date” I suggested. “Invite the parents to call and make an appointment.”

“They are not interested!” exclaimed the mother (of the bride), “what if the baby dies?”

I replied with genuine honesty, “God will meet the child with open arms!”

The Gospel today makes for uncomfortable listening, especially the line, “the doctrines they teach are nothing but human commandments.” (Mark 7:7)

In a tradition as old, as rich and as broad as the Catholic Church, there are bound to be some “only human regulations.”

A clear example would be the traditional teaching about Limbo, where the unbaptised babies supposedly went.

It caused a great deal of pain and distress, as parents and grandparents and other family members concluded their deceased babies would never, ever enjoy the presence of God.

St Augustine believed in Limbo.

Pope Benedict XVI set it firmly aside. Still, it took fifteen centuries…

The Vatican Museums in Rome feature extraordinary art and historical treasures.

Visitors can explore a vast collection amassed by the Catholic Church and the papacy over centuries. Highlights include iconic Roman sculptures and some of the world’s most significant Renaissance masterpieces.

The museums contain roughly 70,000 works, of which 20,000 are on display, including the Sistine Chapel with its ceiling decorated by Michelangelo.

They rank second in the list of most-visited art museums in the world after the Louvre.

One of the items on display is a bust of the Roman god, Janus.

This bust is of two heads looking in opposite directions.

I am reminded immediately of this statue as I read today’s Gospel (Jn 6:60 -69).

“So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.” (vv. 67ff)

“Lord to whom can we go?” – such a declaration of faith.

However, from the mouth of this same man we hear, “Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, “You are not also one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”  One of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” Again, Peter denied it, and at that moment the cock crowed.” (Jn. 18:25 – 27)

Can it possibly be the same man?

“Who can we go to?”

“I am not!”

Nicholas of Cusa [1401–1464]) was a German Catholic theologian who coined the phrase  the coincidentia oppositorum – or “coincidence of opposites” .

Such a phrase sums up the life of St. Peter.

And mine/ours!

The “coincidence of opposites.” – This is what we all resist and oppose much of our life.

How do you live with your own contradictions and inconsistencies?

There has been a theology which maintains we “eliminate” one of the opposites.

Maybe it is not about ‘eliminating’ rather, holding the opposites, as Jesus did on the cross. To live inside this space of creative tension is the very character of faith, hope, and love.

An example from my own life.

I am an ordained priest in the Roman Catholic Church. As such I am called to live a life of celibacy (that is to remain single)

I am also a professed member of a religious congregation, (The Society of Mary). Part of that profession is a vow of chastity.

I am also a male, with all the sexual energy and potential that is inherent in being male.

There is the possibility for conflict between the ordained, professed state and the primary energy inherent in being male.

In my early years I presumed fidelity meant eliminating. However, eliminating meant denial of an essential part of my constituent being.

I now believe, and I need acknowledge the belief is mine, that I am now invited to live within the “tension of opposites!”

And, don’t we all? Frequently, as an ordained priest I sit in the confessional and hear the same penitent week in and week out confessing the same fault. It says little for the efficacy of the Sacrament. Or does it?

Might it be that living within the “tension of opposites” is where we are called to live and the Sacrament of Reconciliation ceases to be an exercise of expulsion and elimination but rather an expression of the “coincidence of opposites.”

Remember, Jesus was crucified between two thieves, a Good Thief and a Bad Thief, and he spoke with both! “There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.” (Jn 19: 18)

 

During the Communion ritual the Eucharistic minister holds up in front of each communicant a small, round, white host and declares boldly, “The Body of Christ” to which each declares equally boldly, “Amen”

Really?

Equally, a Eucharistic minister holds in front of the communicant a cup made either of a precious metal, or glass, or a ceramic substance and declares, “The Blood of Christ” and again the reply, “Amen”

Really?

Body and Blood! And we willingly consume each!

Few things speak as wonderfully about life as does the smell of fresh bread.

The smell of fresh bread makes you hungry.

And yet bread begins its life ground!

Kernels of wheat that had to be ground in their individuality to become something communal, flour, which then had to endure fire to be baked into the substance that gives off the smell of life.

Bread begins life brutally!

As St Augustine once said in a homily:

“For surely this loaf was not made from one grain of wheat. The grains were separate before they came together to became one loaf. They were joined together by water, after first having been ground.  For if the many kernels are not ground and are not moistened by water, they could not come to this form, that we call a loaf. … And then without fire, there is still not a loaf of bread. (Sermon 272)

Bread must be baked in a fierce heat. Bread then speaks of both joy and pain.

Wine too speaks in this double way: On the one hand, it is a festive drink, the more solemn the occasion the more expensive the wine chosen.

In some cultures, it is a sign of festivity; in others it is common and communal.

Wine speaks of family, of gathering, of friendship, community, of love, of remembering.

We celebrate, with wine.

However, like bread, wine has another side: It begins its life, crushed!

Individual grapes are crushed and, in their being crushed they are bonded.

Bread – calling to be eaten after having been ground and fired.

Wine – calling to be drunk after having been crushed and been brought together.

Eucharist is more than a small round white host.

Eucharist is more than a gleaming chalice.

Eucharist is about being ground. Eucharist is about being crushed.

Eucharist is about being fired; Eucharist is about being bonded.

Let us consider this before we say boldly, “Amen”.