If You Were Accused Of Being A Christian, Would You Be Convicted?

You may have noticed that I am no longer posting under the assumed user name Aquinas_54.  I also have changed my profile on Disqus and WordPress to substitute my real name for that user name.  The purpose of this post is to explain why I have done this, although the title above pretty much gives that away.

The purpose of this blog is to witness to and discuss my Catholic faith and Catholicism in general, which means to witness to Our Lord Jesus Christ.  For some time I have done as many, many others do in social media, and with the sole exception of Facebook, have posted comments and essays and tweets under assumed names.  My reasons were probably much like most other folks: fear of being personally attacked, stalked, fired from my job (no longer an issue since I'm retired now), or even, as seems increasingly likely in our anti-Christian culture, legally harassed or arrested for what I write.

Well, I'm done with that.  Being a follower of Jesus Christ means being willing to take whatever this fallen world sends our way.  Jesus made clear again and again to his disciples that they should expect to be persecuted and hated, imprisoned and even killed for His sake.  He never promised us an easy road.  Let's take a quick look at some of Our Lord's own words in Sacred Scripture:

(Matthew 10) [32] So every one who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven; [33] but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven. [34] "Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. [35] For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; [36] and a man's foes will be those of his own household. [37] He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he who loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; [38] and he who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. [39] He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for my sake will find it.

Amid all the warnings, let's not forget, our Lord also promised great things to those who follow him.  See, for example, the Beatitudes, the opening salvo, as it were, of the great Sermon on the Mount:

(Matthew 5) [10] "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. [11]"Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. [12] Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so men persecuted the prophets who were before you"

That's pretty straightforward talk.  And it's God the Son doing the talking.  Somewhat belatedly, it occurred to me not long ago that by masking my social media utterances behind an assumed name, I was failing to acknowledge Jesus Christ before men.  And I was ignoring his warning that being his disciple is not a path to tranquility in this world, but in the next.  The question I used for the title of this post is one I've heard before, though I don't recall where, but it certainly provides food for thought, doesn't it?  When I stand before my Lord at the hour of my death and face his judgment, I want the answer to that question to be a clear and ringing YES! 

Am I being a big brave guy by doing this?  No, I don't think so.  After all, this isn't a totalitarian dictatorship or Islamic caliphate...yet.  And I have no job or business to lose, no children for whom to fear.  I'll admit I am still a little bit worried about how some of my friends may react to the things I write (and have written, now searchable...yikes!), and maybe even concerned about all the other people "out there" who may see my words and find them offensive, hateful, bigoted, stupid, or whatever other labels they may have for someone who tries to adhere to the ancient teachings of the Catholic Church.  But that's what being a real Christian means.  He told us so himself.  It's time to pay attention and practice what I preach.  If that means I lose some friends, then maybe those people aren't really my friends in the first place.

God bless everyone, and onward we march!

Laudator Jesus Christus!

Pope Francis and the Martyrs of Uganda: Missing the Point

It seems that every time our Holy Father goes on a trip anywhere, he sows confusion and concern as much as any good he does with his Apostolic visits.   In another post soon, I will discuss the truly scandalous interview he gave in his latest airborne press conference.  I use the term "scandalous" in the sense of the sin of scandal.  If you don't know what that is, please look it up in the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

And just for the record, yes, I do believe the Holy Father does much good in his travels.  In spite of the serious issues Pope Francis creates with his unscripted comments, and even at times with scripted ones, as the Vicar of Christ on Earth he has a powerful charism, endowed by the Holy Spirit (or Holy Ghost, if you prefer).  I have no doubt that the Spirit works through Pope Francis in numerous ways, and not just when he administers the Sacraments.  This is not something to be demeaned or belittled in any way, and it is not my purpose to do so.  The unfortunate fact is that he also does much damage to the Faith and to souls, who need to be confirmed and supported in their faith, not led astray by a pope who seems at times to be incapable of coherent communication.

This post is concerned, as the title indicates, with the pope's homily during the Mass he celebrated this past Saturday for the Martyrs of Uganda, St. Charles Lwanga and companions.  These men, all of them quite young, were canonized in 1964.  As is usually the case with martyrs for the Faith, they died under horrid circumstances but remained faithful to the end, praying and singing hymns even as they suffered unto death.  Joanna Bogle wrote an article for Catholic Answers Magazine, published in May, 2008, describing the case of the martyrdom, which is very informative, although it contains a couple of typos in the online version, here.

The papal homily was, in and of itself, not problematic.  You can read the full text on the Holy See's website.   It was a moving tribute to anyone who makes the ultimate sacrifice for Christ and His Church.  The problem was not what the pope said, but rather what he did NOT say.  As Ms. Bogle's article explains, these men were not martyred simply for their adherence to the Christian faith.  The primary motivation of the king who murdered them was their refusal to submit to his demands that they engage in sodomitical acts with him.  Yet for reasons known only to him, the Bishop of Rome (as he insists on being called, in his often strained effort to demonstrate his own humility) chose to say not one single word about this critical fact.  Hence, the subtitle of this post, "Missing the Point."  In a world where whole nations are enshrining in secular law the oxymoronic notion of marriage between persons of the same sex, and engaging in legal and social persecution of anyone who dares to resist, the putative spiritual leader of the Church founded by Jesus Christ, the successor to St. Peter, threw away a perfect opportunity to teach the whole world the truth as revealed by God, that sodomy is always and everywhere an offense against nature, and therefore against God and our very essence as human beings made in God's image and likeness.  The heroism of St. Charles Lwanga and the other Ugandan martyrs stands for this truth, because it was their Christian faith, their Catholic faith, that gave them the strength to refuse the king's deplorable demands.  (Yes, I know, there were also Anglicans martyred at or about the same time and for essentially the same reason.  They deserve to be honored as well.  More than that, I will say only that in today's Anglican church, it is open to question whether they would even be considered martyrs.  It will soon be a moot point in any event, as Ross Douthat noted some time back, since the Episcopal church is in its death throes in the US, as is the Anglican Communion worldwide.)

The redoubtable Father Z also has commented on the pope's omission from his homily of the facts of the Lwanga story.  I reproduce here his closing paragraph, which as always hits the bullseye:

"I saw some of the coverage of Pope Francis’ visit to Africa.  I am not a fan of the dancing and so forth and some liturgical choices (HERE etc.), but I will say this: African bishops still know the difference between a boy and a girl, they still know what male/female sexual organs are for and what they are not for, they still know that marriage is between one man and one woman, and now they really know how to scare German bishops."

Please do read Father Z's entire post and follow his links.  It will be worth your time.

Laudator Jesus Christus!

The Woman at the Well

Sunday, March 8, 2015

If your parish has a group of Catechumens preparing for the Sacraments of Initiation at the Easter Vigil, now less than a month away (!), then at least one scheduled Sunday Mass most likely included a rite called the "First Scrutiny", and instead of the Gospel reading about Jesus running the money-changers and merchants out of the Jerusalem Temple from John 2: 13-22, the faithful heard about Jesus and the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well (John 4: 1-42.)

Ever since my own RCIA journey ten years ago, this has been one of my favorite Gospel accounts.  It contains multiple layers of meaning and describes startling actions and statements by our Lord, all presented in the mystical, fluid prose of St. John the Evangelist.  Certainly the Gospels are chock full of stories like this, which point in multiple directions and seem to reveal new truths each time one reads and reflects on them, and it's hard to put my finger on exactly why this particular story has always resonated so deeply for me.  I'll try to lay it all out here, with some significant help from the commentary of Dr. Scott Hahn and Curtis Mitch in the Ignatius Catholic Study Bible-New Testament (Ignatius Press, 2010).  If you don't already own this marvelous volume, I recommend it most highly.

Most every serious commentator on this story points out, as they should, the important historical context of this encounter.  Recall that in Jesus' day, the Jews considered the Samaritans an impure, apostate people, and refused to have anything to do with them.  (For their part, the Samaritans weren't particularly interested in socializing with the Jews, either.)  The Assyrians invaded northern Palestine in the eighth century B.C. and had their way with the place and the people.  Most Israelites living in the area were deported and replaced by Assyrian immigrants and other foreigners, all of whom were pagans and idolaters.  The few remaining Israelites were labeled Samaritans by the southern Palestinian Jews, and held in contempt for intermarrying with the invaders and adopting many of their pagan ways.  The Jews particularly regarded as forbidden the sharing of food or drink with Samaritans.  In addition, Jewish tradition at the time strongly discouraged men from having any public interaction with women.  Finally, as portrayed a number of times in John and the other Gospels, Jews were expected to avoid any association with "sinners." 

So right off the bat in this story, Jesus ignores three significant cultural rules of his community.  Of course, this was just one of many such instances in his Earthly ministry.  It bears noting here that all of these situations in which Jesus defied convention add up to a powerful rebuttal of the notion that he chose only men to be his Apostles out of deference to cultural norms.  That one just doesn't wash.  Today is not the time for me to discuss the inapplicability of the Sacrament of Holy Orders to our beloved sisters in Christ, but the absence of any women among the Twelve always has been understood by the Church as one of the major reasons for it. 

Getting back to the story, after Jesus asks the woman for a drink, and she asks him why he's even bothering to speak to her, ("How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?"), the Lord drops the first of his verbal bombshells, saying (I'm paraphrasing) "If you knew who you are talking to, you would have asked and I would have given you living water."  (Jn 4:9-10) The woman's reaction to Jesus' mysterious statement is, unsurprisingly, a sort of first-century equivalent of "Huh?"  She points out that Jesus doesn't even have a bucket, so where, she asks, is he going to get this "living water", anyway?  Then she issues a little challenge--"Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well, and drank from it himself, and his sons, and his cattle?" (Jn 4:11-12)

Here, the Samaritan woman acted without the malice normally shown by Pharisees who challenged Jesus with various questions throughout the Gospels, but her question nevertheless managed to generate one of the Lord's classic evangelistic prophesies:  "Jesus said to her, 'Every one who drinks of this water will thirst again, but whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst; the water that I shall give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.' " (Jn 4:13-14) (Don't you wish you could go back in time and hear some of these statements as they were made, and watch people's reactions?)  Now the woman apparently understands that Jesus is not talking about the well water, but something else entirely...and she wants some!  (Who wouldn't, after that little speech?)  But even so, her reply shows that she doesn't completely get it: "Sir, give me this water, that I may not thirst, nor come here to draw." (Jn 4:15) She seems to think it would be pretty neat never to be thirsty and not have to trudge back and forth from home to that well a couple of times a day, but she misses the more supernatural aspect of Jesus' statement, especially the reference to eternal life.  (Whenever I read or hear this part, I think "Hello, pay attention!")

Since our Lord was well accustomed to having people fail to understand him fully, especially when he spoke in "mystical mode", he decides it's time for a little demonstration.  He directs her to go get her husband and come back, and when she admits she has no husband, Jesus reveals that he knows all about her situation and her checkered past--five husbands, and currently living with a man not her husband.  Now, she elevates her opinion of him, saying "Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet."  After she mentions that her people worship "on this mountain" and that "you [Jews] say that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship," Jesus proceeds in rather dramatic language to predict that both the Samaritan mountain and the Jewish temple worship will be replaced: "Jesus said to her, 'Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and now is, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for such the Father seeks to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.' "  (Jn 4: 16-24)

As Hahn and Mitch note in their commentary, here Jesus is referring to the distinctions between Christian worship--spirit and truth, a theme Jesus will repeat at the conclusion of the Bread of Life Discourse in John 6--and both the ritual animal sacrificial worship of the Jews and the idolatry of the Samaritans.  Notice also how Jesus shows great respect for the Samaritan woman, as he addresses her in the same way as St. John witnessed him addressing his Mother on two important occasions, at the Wedding of Cana ("O woman, what have you to do with me? My hour has not yet come", Jn 2:4) and while hanging on the Cross ("Woman, behold your son", Jn 19:26).  Otherwise, I can find only three instances where Jesus uses this form of address:  In Mt 15:28, when he heals the demon-possessed daughter of the Canaanite woman, ("O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire"); at the healing of the crippled woman on the Sabbath ("Woman, you are freed from your infirmity", Lk 13:12), and on the day of the Resurrection when he speaks to Mary Magdalene, ("Woman, why are you weeping? Whom do you seek?", Jn 20:15). 

At this point, the Samaritan woman begins to get a glimmer of what's going on, it seems, as she replies to Jesus' predictions by saying "I know that Messiah is coming (he who is called Christ); when he comes, he will show us all things." And then Jesus drops the Big One: "Jesus said to her, 'I who speak to you am he.' "  (Jn 4: 25-26)  This is one of only two times in the entire New Testament that Jesus explicitly claims to be the Christ; the other is during St. Mark's account of the trial before the Sanhedrin. (Mk 14:61-62.)

After the disciples return and "marvel" at the fact that Jesus is talking to the woman, the conversation bears immediate fruit, as she heads back into town and starts telling everyone about her encounter with "a man who told me all that I ever did", and asking "Can this be the Christ?" (Jn 4:27-29)  In effect, she becomes an evangelist herself, and as a result, St. John tells us, the people of the town began coming out to see Jesus, asking him and his disciples to stay with them, which they did for two days.  Many from that city became believers, either because of the woman's testimony or from hearing Jesus' teaching.  (Jn 4:30; 39-42)  The remainder of the account describes Jesus' speech to his disciples after the woman has "left her water jar" (similar to how the disciples themselves "left everything behind") to spread the news to her community of her encounter.   Again, as he so often did, Jesus reminds the disciples that doing the will of the Father is the primary mission: "My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his work." (Jn 4:34)  This recalls his statement, recorded in each of the synoptic Gospels, that those who do the will of the Father are in effect members of Jesus' family  ("my mother, sisters and brothers"; see Mt 12:50; Mk 3:35; Lk 8:21). 

How, then, to look at this story as a whole?  On the surface, in addition to Jesus' typical defiance of cultural conventions, I think we have in this account one of the more impressive stories of large-scale evangelization and conversion in the New Testament, especially given that it was unaccompanied by the working of any miracle of healing, feeding a crowd, or raising people from the dead.  We are not told the size of the city or exactly how many became believers due to these events, but the implication seems clear that at least a majority of the citizens were converted, thanks to the faith awakened in a single Samaritan woman.  In fact, the only similar conversion event I can think of from the New Testament is the baptism of 3,000 on the day of the Christian Pentecost, recounted in Chapter 2 of the Acts of the Apostles, which was preceded by the miracle of tongues, itself triggered by the descent of the Holy Spirit in the Upper Room.  That's pretty heady company for a simple woman of Samaria, living in a state of serious sin, and stands in stark contrast to the reception Jesus got in his own home town of Nazareth, where his friends and neighbors tried to throw him off a cliff in return for his teaching. (Lk 4:16-30)

But of course there is more under the surface.  The Samaritan woman's story seems to be a microcosm of the experience of all who seek to fill the longing in every human heart for God.  Her having cycled through five husbands suggests, as our priest noted in his homily this weekend, that she was searching for love, obviously without much success prior to encountering Christ.  The "living water" Jesus promises to her is traditionally understood by the Church to refer to Baptism, but Hahn and Mitch also note several instances where the Old Testament prophets used water as a metaphor for God's blessings.  For example, in Isaiah 12:3, "With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation"; or again in Isaiah 44:3, "For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour my Spirit upon your descendants, and my blessing on your offspring."  And who can forget the beautiful symbolism of Ezekiel 47:1-12, where the prophet describes his angelic vision of the life-giving river flowing around and out from the Temple?

So whether by Sacrament or otherwise, as through prayer and reflection or other ways of seeking God, the "living water" of God's blessings comes to us, if we are willing to receive it.  Often, this means major conversion for us, as for the Samaritan woman leaving her water jar, the Apostles leaving their former lives, or perhaps less dramatic but no less important changes in the little things we do, think and say each day.  But it never fails to have an effect.  This, I would venture to guess, is at least one reason why the Church places the story of the Woman at the Well in the liturgy of the First Scrutiny, where the journey of Catechumens on their way to full communion with the Church heads into the home stretch.

That's all for now.  Thanks for reading. Laudator Jesus Christus!

Hello! Here I Am...

Texas, USA, March 6, 2015

Hello and God's blessings and peace to all.  This is a new venture for me.  The title of this blog, Son of Blessed Mary, has two levels of meaning.  The first, which should be obvious, is to honor our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, the Son of the Most High God and of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Eternal Word, the Prince of Peace, the Redeemer of mankind.  The second refers to me, because our Lord gave His Mother to all of us as our spiritual Mother as he hung in agony on the Cross.  Therefore I, along with everyone else in the world for whom Christ died, can claim the privilege of being Mary's son.  She is, in addition to being our spiritual Mother, a perfect example for every follower of Jesus Christ.  She was the first Christian, after all; she accepted Him on the day of the Annunciation by the angel Gabriel, lovingly nurtured and raised Him to adulthood, suffered with Him to the end of His earthly ministry, and reigns with Him as the Queen of Heaven, Queen of Angels and Mother of the Church.  Her one and only purpose is to lead all people to her Son, if we will only let her do so. 

You should have figured out by now that I am Catholic.  Ten years ago this month, in March, 2005, by the grace of God and through the power and working of the Holy Spirit, I was received into full communion with the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church.  A little less than a year before that, again by the grace of God and not by any merit of my own, I experienced a profound conversion of heart which led me back to active faith in Jesus Christ, and to the Church He founded nearly 2,000 years ago.  I was baptized as an infant in the Presbyterian tradition, raised by loving and faithful parents and taught the basics of Christian faith.  I am thankful for them and for all the wonderful Protestant Christians who have done so much for me and for our great United States of America, but now I am where I belong, thanks be to God.  Perhaps at a later time I will share more details of my conversion story.  For now, suffice it to say that I am thankful beyond any human expressive capacity for the gift of faith in Christ which was freely handed to me at that time, and for the grace to have accepted that gift.  I also hasten to say that one gives up absolutely nothing when one "crosses the Tiber" from any non-Catholic faith tradition.  Rather, one gains immeasurable treasure in the fullness of the Christian faith, handed on to us over the millennia in direct succession from Christ and His Apostles.  I love the Catholic Church and will stand in defense of her and her Magisterium, with charity and devotion, just as I stand for Christ Himself.  I pray that God will give me the grace to remain faithful and obedient through whatever trials He has in store for me and my loved ones and friends in this deeply troubled world.

What else might a reader want to know about me?  I am a retired attorney, an adopted son of the Great State of Texas, born and raised in the Heartland of America, the Midwest.  I have been happily married for almost 35 years to a lovely Catholic woman who probably deserved better than what she got.  My father was a classically trained vocal musician, a graduate of the Juilliard School, a professor of drama and literature and a church choir director.  He used to draw applause from neighboring fans at St. Louis Cardinals baseball games for his rendition of the Star Spangled Banner.  Meanwhile, I was trying to hide.  This, obviously, was in my tender and callow youth, before I finally learned to appreciate his talent!  My mother was, in addition to her primary vocation as a Christian wife and mother, a dedicated small-town public servant as a city council member and then three-time Mayor of the Illinois town where my closest relatives still reside, the first woman ever elected to that position.  They raised my brother and me in the classic Judeo-Christian American tradition of hard work, patriotism, love of family, respect for others and the "rugged individualism" of our Scots-Irish and German Presbyterian heritage.  I am politically more conservative than any other label, although my Catholic faith leads me to some views (such as the truth of Catholic social teaching a la Rerum Novarum, including attempted adherence to Christ's admonitions to care for the poor, see, e.g. Matthew 25:31 and following, and opposition to the death penalty in most if not all cases), that many would not expect from a "conservative."  But this is not a political commentary blog, even though at times my reflections will by necessity overlap to some extent with matters deemed "political" by our "perpetual news cycle" culture, which sees every issue as "political."  This will especially be true with respect to matters of religious freedom (I'm for it!) and abortion (I'm against it!), and probably others.  As one of my favorite news media talking heads, Linda Ellerbee, used to say, "And so it goes."  (Wonder whatever happened to her, anyway?)

As this blog develops, I plan to add the usual things one sees in the Blogosphere, such as recommended links, moderated comments, and more or less regular postings of my own reflections and thoughts about the Christian faith, the Catholic Church, and the world in which we live in exile, awaiting with joyful hope the Kingdom of Heaven and eternal life with our Lord and all his angels and saints.  I am my own developer, which is probably as big a mistake as trying to be one's own lawyer, but this little exercise isn't worth spending any of my retirement money.  My perspective is that of a sinner who tries to be a true disciple of Christ, obedient to His commandments and to the teaching authority of the Church, which He Himself established on the rock of Saint Peter.  My patron saint, whose name I adopted at the time of my receipt of the Sacrament of Confirmation, is Thomas Aquinas, and in addition to the arduous task of living a true Christian life, my worldly calling is, I believe, to teach and defend the Catholic Christian faith.  I claim no special expertise other than such knowledge as God has granted me through personal prayer, study of Sacred Scripture, Sacred Tradition and the Magisterium, reading the Church Fathers, reflection, regular attendance at Mass, and reading and hearing the reflections and teachings of other faithful Christians of yesterday and today through many books and online via the miracle of modern information technology.

I really doubt that very many people will read this any time soon, as there are so many millions of people calling themselves "bloggers" all around the world, and I discover new and worthy blogs almost every day, so many that I can't hope to read even a significant proportion of them.  Why bother with my own, then?  Probably some degree of sinful pride is at work, which I hope to squelch in favor of a more worthy mission of evangelization, with a philosophical and, if I'm given the grace, even a contemplative angle.  At worst, it will keep me busy thinking instead of playing games on my PC and iPad.  This will make my wife happy, always a good thing.

In any event, an infant blog like this one stands little chance of being noticed.  But if somehow you have found your way here, I ask for your prayers and that you might come back to visit once in a while, as I attempt to make it worth your time as well as mine.  Thank you.  Laudator Jesus Christus!