(Continued from “A Personal Lenten Journey“)

Well, I survived it. We’re here at Easter, ready or not, and Christ is risen! Alleluia!

Weeks 3, 4 and 5 of Lent went pretty much like the previous week: I stumbled through it. There were a few high points when the light of grace broke through the fog in wonderful ways, but it was  mostly nothing to write home (or blog about) when it came to my end of the deal.

I was sick with a nasty chest-cold for most of Holy Week. I was achy, restless and anxious. Although it was no fun, it did help me enter the drama of Triduum in a more sympathetic way this season.

Last night, at the Easter vigil, my family and I sat in a darkened church and watched it fill with light. I was giddy as kid on the last day of school when we got to sing “alleluia” again. We watched half a dozen people become new creations in Christ through water and the Spirit. We saw two of our dearest friends confess the Catholic faith, be sealed with the Holy Spirit and receive our Lord in the Eucharist for the first time (pray for Trevor and Jen, our newly un-separated siblings.)

Christ was indeed risen and among us and, if you had asked me to last night, I’d have done a dozen more Lents back-to-back for another Vigil like that. And that’s just a preview of the Big Easter that Christ returned to the Father to prepare for us.

As I reflect back this morning on Lent 2009, one thought keeps coming back to me: Christ’s mercy and grace.

Of course I was a failure at Lent and when I tried to step out of my relatively comfortable,  casual suburban stupor and walk next to Christ in the wilderness I looked like an idiot. This should be no surprise. It’s all there in Holy Week: the same mouths that shout “hossana” also shout “crucify”, the Lord’s friends deny and betray him and all save a few abandon Him in his darkest hour.

Christ still welcomed me to the feast. I was a bruised reed left unbroken and smoldering wick left unsnuffed. Or, as someone more golden-mouthed than I once said it:

If any man be devout and love God,
let him enjoy this fair and radiant triumphal feast.

If any man be a wise servant,
let him enter rejoicing into the joy of his Lord.

If any have labored long in fasting,
let him now receive his recompense.

If any have wrought from the first hour,
let him today receive his just reward.

If any have come at the third hour,
let him with thankfulness keep the feast.

If any have arrived at the sixth hour,
let him have no misgivings,
because he shall in no wise be deprived.

If any have delayed until the ninth hour,
let him draw near, fearing nothing.

If any have tarried even until the eleventh hour,
let him also be not alarmed at his tardiness;
for the Lord, who is jealous of his honor,
will accept the last even as the first;
he gives rest unto him who comes at the eleventh hour,
even as unto him who has worked from the first hour.

And He shows mercy upon the last,
and cares for the first;
and to the one he gives, and upon the other he bestows gifts.
And he both accepts the deeds,
and welcomes the intention,
and honors the acts and praises the offering.

Wherefore, enter ye all into the joy of your Lord,
and receive your reward,
both the first and likewise the second.

You rich and poor together,
hold high festival.

You sober and you heedless,
honor the day.

Rejoice today,
both you who have fasted
and you who have disregarded the fast.

The table is fully laden;
feast sumptuously.

The calf is fatted;
let no one go hungry away.

Enjoy the feast of faith;
receive all the riches of loving-kindness.

Let no one bewail his poverty,
for the universal kingdom has been revealed.

Let no one weep for his iniquities,
for pardon has shone forth from the grave.

Let no one fear death,
for the Savior’s death has set us free:
he that was held prisoner of it has annihilated it.

(St. John Chrysostom’s Paschal Sermon)

photo by Brandi Sims

1st Sunday of Lent: Wow, I’m pretty good at this Lent thing. I’d almost say I’m bound for sainthood were I not so humble!

2nd Week of Lent: Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. I stink at this.

3rd Sunday of Lent: Yeah, I DO kinda stink at this, but I think learning that is one of the main purposes of the exercise. Kyrie Eleison!

(I’ll have to get back to you on the rest.)

UPDATE: “A Personal Lenten Journey: Conclusion“

photo by Brandi Sims

Andy’s got a great story and his prayers and emails were very helpful when I was making that same Baptist-to-Papist transition. Say prayer for him and give it a peek if you can.

Because there are a lot of Catholics (practicing and non) on this planet, they are often targets for this treatment…all the better if they are poorly catechized or lapsed.

One feature they have on their radio show is “Fish with Trish” where a lady named Trish Ramos goes around with a cellphone finding non-Christians or people who “think they’re good” who will agree to talk on the air with Ray, Kirk and/or radio host Todd Friel to find out how wrong and lost they are.

This time, I think Trish reeled in a fish that wouldn’t fit in their live-well: Fr. Jim McGhee.

Fr. Jim McGhee is a convert to the Catholic faith AND a Catholic priest at St. Elizabeth Ann Seton parish in Forth Worth, Texas. He was raised as a Methodist and was a Methodist minister for about seven years before becaming Episcopalian and serving as a priest in that communion for about 20 years. He entered full-communion with the Catholic Church in 1992. He’s also married (which amazed Trish and caused her to wonder out loud if it was “some sort of liberal thing.”)

Well, Fr. Jim can quote scripture as well as they can and he knows their language. He presents the Catholic faith in way that I think they could understand, even if it wasn’t in a way that they liked. Here’s an excerpt:

Comfort: But, if I’m a Roman Catholic, I’ve been sprinkled as a baby, I’m adult and I’m Catholic by name but I haven’t repented and my faith is not in Jesus am I going to heaven?

McGhee: No.

Comfort: So I’m going to Hell?

McGhee: Because you have to cooperate with the grace of God in knowing the faith, living in hope according to your will and learning how to love the good by presence of the Holy Spirit. There has to be a sanctification, a growing up in the Faith.

Download an mp3 of the Program here
(Fr. Jim’s segment starts at 37 mins and 56 seconds into the mp3*)

Anyway, I think Fr. Jim did a great job of presenting the Catholic faith and traditional, sacramental Christianity in a winsome way to a hostile audience that espouses a more novel version of the Christian faith. He really contrasts the nuances of the Apostolic Faith with the “fits on business card” presentation that seems to be par for the course at Way of the Master.

Trish also posted photos and her account of the encounter on her blog as well this video:

*Note: There are some other Catholic-related jewels earlier in the episode: a recording from a 60 Minutes interview with a Catholic former-hitman talking about confession and an incredibly shallow and ham-fisted review of the statement by Avery Cardinal Dulles about the universal scope of the plan of salvation that gets brought up in Fr. Jim’s segement. That’s why Todd Friel says “it’s not beat up on Catholics hour.” There’s also a clip from a sermon by Reformed Baptist pastor John Piper about making sure Christ is first in your life that I thought was well stated.

That’s why I was pleasantly surprised to see both this topic and interviewee on the show:

The Jaroslav Pelikan on “The Need for Creeds”

Audio of the interview (mp3, 53:27)

Episode webpage

The interview with the late theologian and late-in-life convert to the Orthodox Church from Lutheranism was recorded in 2003. He died on May 13, 2006.

Here’s a transcript of an excerpt I found particularly quotable:

Tippet: So, what is it about Christianity that has needed creeds?

Pelikan: Well, what it is about religious faith that needs creed is that religious faith in general, prayer addressed to “to whom it may concern”, sentiment about some transcendent dimension otherwise undefined does not have any staying power. It’s OK to have that at ten o’clock on a Sunday morning when you’re out with your friends somewhere, but in the darkest hours of life you gotta believe something specific. And that specification is the task of the creed. Because, much as some people may not like it, to believe one thing is also to disbelieve another.

Tippet: *curtly* Huh.

Pelikan: To say yes is also to say no.

(Resurrection by Piero della Francesca)

Christ is risen! Alleluia! Alleluia!

And this will be the last of my Holy Week/Easter reflections, so for those of you who may have been annoyed by them, that’s one more reason to rejoice!

At the Easter Vigil last night I thought back over the accounts of Christ’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem, his passion and his resurrection. I thought about the different people I identified with: the crowds whose shouts of “hosanna” soon turn to cries of “crucify him”, the spineless Pilate who has an innocent man beaten and crucified out of fear of those above and below him, the despairing traitor Judas, the repentant denier Peter, the awed solider who proclaims “surely, this was the Son of God, the hopeless disciples hiding behind locked doors while the Lord is in the tomb and the joyful women who hear the angel say “he is not here for his is risen.”

Placing myself in those scenes, I identify with all of the above. I realized, however, that it’s not any of those people that the Scriptures invite us to walk the road of Holy Week with. We, by grace, are invited to walk this path with Christ himself.

Those of us who are Christians know, as Christ did, that when he enters Jerusalem he is headed for a cross not an earthly throne. With Christ we know which diners at the table in the upper room will deny and betray him. We know the contents of the cup he is about to drink as he enters the garden to pray. We know that he will not receive justice from his own people or from Pilate. We know as he cries “it is finished” that this is not the end. We know what those who come to the tomb on Easter morning will find.

This is what it means to be a Christan: to be made an heir with Christ and to be adopted as sons and daughters of God receiving by grace what Christ has by nature. The first Adam fell into a grave and took us with him, but the second Adam descended into that grave and rose again, bringing us out.

Christ is risen! Alleluia! Alleluia!

The worst has happened. The Shepherd has been struck down and the sheep are scattered.

Now, like the disciples behind locked doors, we wait. We, however, know what we’re waiting for and how this story ends.

See you Sunday.

(photo by Brandi Sims)

I really don’t want to spoil the gravity of this night with too many words, so I’ll be brief.

This Triduum, I’ve been struck by the way Our Lord abandoned himself in total trust to the will of the Father as he began to give his life for the world. From the lips of the perfect man come “let this cup pass” and “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me” while under the crushing weigh of sorrow and dread. But, from the same lips, come “not my will, but thine” and “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” in perfect trust and faith.

In our own dark nights when our lesser cups of suffering are set before us and we feel abandoned by all, even God, may he grant us the grace to make those latter words of Christ our own.

So, during supper, fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power
and that he had come from God and was returning to God,
he rose from supper and took off his outer garments.
He took a towel and tied it around his waist.
Then he poured water into a basin
and began to wash the disciples’ feet
and dry them with the towel around his waist…

…when he had washed their feet
and put his garments back on and reclined at table again,
he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to fo
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”
–from tonight’s reading from the Gospel according to St. John

Here, on the night he was to be betrayed and the night that he gave us the Eucharist, we see the story of Our Lord’s earthly life in microcosm: he leaves his position at the table where he rightfully sits as Lord and sets aside his outer-garments and takes on the role of the lowliest servant…just as he set aside the glory that he had shared with Father since the beginning and came down to earth, taking on the form of a slave. Every day of his earthly life was a stooping down and a condescension in service to the ones he loved.

This is our model. As he has done, we should do: serve, love, forgive, give all, and abandon ourselves in life and death to the will of the Father. I do a really poor job of all of the above, but there is hope for even a sinner like me in this because he still stoops down to ones he loves and makes us clean.

As much as I love hearing the Gospel readings proclaimed in the liturgy, sometimes they are hard to hear. Usually this is because something Our Lord says cuts to the heart of my own self-righteousness and pride. The Passion narrative read today, however, is the hardest reading for me all year. And not just because of what I hear, but for what I and the rest of the congregation say:

“He deserves to die!”

“Prophesy for us, Christ: who is it that struck you?”

“Let him be crucified!”

And as I say these things, I’m wishing that this was the only time I said them…wishing I hadn’t said them with my life and sins many times over.

But, miracles of miracles, after this I am given the grace to stand and confess my faith in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, and in the Church, the forgiveness of sins and the resurrection. I am invited to call God Father and pray as Jesus taught us. Christ, the betrayed, abused and crucified Lord, does not turn me away, but gives me his peace. He gives Himself, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, and dwells with one who is not worthy to receive him.

These gifts make the Passion narrative bearable in the same way Easter Sunday makes Good Friday good.

“Truly, this was the Son of God!”

I often suffer from “compassion fatigue” due to the 24-hour news coverage and discussion in the blogosphere of all the violence and atrocities in our world. The senselessness and cruelty of events like the tragic kidnapping and death of Archbishop Paulos Faraj Rahho and persecution of our brothers and sisters have left me feeling sort of numb and distant. Watching the stories of the families in this video has helped break through some of that fog.

The man who gave me the link said he still has family in Iraq who are in harms way because they name the name of Christ. Please pray for them.

a) The right state of human affairs, the moral well-being of the world can never be guaranteed simply through structures alone, however good they are. Such structures are not only important, but necessary; yet they cannot and must not marginalize human freedom. Even the best structures function only when the community is animated by convictions capable of motivating people to assent freely to the social order. Freedom requires conviction; conviction does not exist on its own, but must always be gained anew by the community.

b) Since man always remains free and since his freedom is always fragile, the kingdom of good will never be definitively established in this world. Anyone who promises the better world that is guaranteed to last for ever is making a false promise; he is overlooking human freedom. Freedom must constantly be won over for the cause of good. Free assent to the good never exists simply by itself. If there were structures which could irrevocably guarantee a determined—good—state of the world, man’s freedom would be denied, and hence they would not be good structures at all.

There won’t be a final “free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I’m free at last” of all things until Christ comes again in glory. There will be no temporal “glorious revolution” or “final solution” from us men that will free us from having to fight the good fight, both in our culture and inside our selves, until the Kingdom which has no end fully comes.

Again and again, the Holy Father reminds us of the necessity of Grace. The only lasting hope in any realm is the pulling up of the temporal into the eternal, the human into the divine. In short, the only lasting hope is Jesus Christ.

I’ll try to refrain from further quoting and commentary until I’ve finished reading and had some time for digestion.

Here’s a passage from the introduction that jumped out at me (underling for emphasis mine):

“Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does it become possible to live the present as well. So now we can say: Christianity was not only “good news”—the communication of a hitherto unknown content. In our language we would say: the Christian message was not only “informative” but “performative”. That means: the Gospel is not merely a communication of things that can be known—it is one that makes things happen and is life-changing. The dark door of time, of the future, has been thrown open. The one who has hope lives differently; the one who hopes has been granted the gift of a new life.“

More to come as more jumps out.

The Cross is the definitive revelation of love and divine mercy. To enter into this mystery of love there is no other way than that of losing ourselves, giving ourselves: the Way of the Cross.“

–Pope Benedict XVI, public audience today, Ash Wednesday of 2007