The news stories this week read something like, "Six Islamist Jihadists. . . " or "Six foreign born Muslims. . . " or "Six Islamic Militants. . . " These were followed by stories of "Muslim community fears backlash. . ." Now the men arrested in the planned attack on Fort Dix are self-proclaimed Muslims and pronounced that their plan was, in their minds, "jihad" in defense of their religion, so one cannot fault the media for proclaiming them as such. I continue to be concerned, however, about how little many people seem to know about Islam, and the contradictory perspectives and at times caricatures people in this country encounter. Obviously the Muslim community in the US has similar concerns, hence their legitimate worry about a backlash.

One of the difficulties Americans face is that like any world religion, Islam is not a cookie-cutter religion. Not only are there different sects of Islam, Islam is practiced differently in different parts of the world. Muslims themselves have very different viewpoints regarding Islam depending on their own upbringing in the religion. On the extreme level, it is the same as Catholics and members of the Ku Klux Klan both calling themselves Christian. Even within mainstream Islam though, there are differences similar to those among "conservative" and "liberal" Christians. How many of us have at one point in time met an ex-Catholic who had a VERY negative experience in the Catholic Church? Asking that person to tell you about Catholicism and a person who has found their life rejuvenated by practicing the Catholic faith is going to yield two very different pictures of what "Catholicism" looks like.

One can quote seemingly violent passages of the Qu'ran. One can also quote excessively violent passages from the Bible

"Slay, therefore, every male child and every woman who has had intercourse with a man. But you may spare and keep for yourselves all girls who had no intercourse with a man." - Numbers 31:17

Oh, but that is the Old Testament, some of you may protest!"

"If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple." - Lk 14:26

Or again:

"He [Jesus] said to them, "But now one who has a money bag should take it, and likewise a sack, and one who does not have a sword should sell his cloak and buy one." Lk. 22:36

But these passages are taken out of literary and historical context, you may protest. Exactly! But they are there to be misinterpreted by those who might choose to do so. In the Christian world of the Middle Ages, during the Crusades, in colonial times, during the Salem witch trials, etc., passages in the Bible were often used as a divine mandate for violence.

Even before the stories in the media this week, I was struck when two friends were talking about reading the writings of two different Muslim women with two completely different viewpoints about women in Islam. One was Ayaan Hirsi Ali, who wrote Infidel, a book that tells her story of experiencing a very oppressive Islamic culture first in Somalia, then in Saudi Arabia, and finally in Holland, where she left the Islamic faith and began speaking out publically on the dangers to women in Islam. The other is Ingrid Mattson, a former Catholic, who is the first woman and the first convert to be the President of the Islamic Society of North America (I have to point out here, that no woman has ever been the head of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops). Her experience is that the religion of Islam is very liberating for women. Both stories are important, because they bring home the very different ways in which the religion of Islam is practiced in the world. Neither woman is "wrong". Islam can't be judged in theory; it can only be judged in practice. The same is true for Christianity.

A friend of mine told me about a fascinating article on Slate.com, "God is in the Dendrites: Can Neurotheology Bridge the Gap Between Science and Religion?" As neuroscientists have started to study various types of religious experience, we end up with the chicken and the egg question - which came first, brains predisposed to religious experience or religious experience that developed certain areas of the brain? Further questions are asked about the meaning of brains that have the mechanics for religious experience, such as were the brains created by God to facilitate such experiences or are such experiences simply physical occurences that create an illusion of a God? The answer to this question is one that cannot be scientifically proven one way or another. It simply comes down to faith and/or opinion.

As for which comes first, the chicken or the egg, I suspect it is like most of our other traits, that there are differences physiologically that make a person more prone to religious/meditative feelings or experiences, and then that part of the brain is developed and enhanced through actual religious/meditative practice. Our intellectual frameworks, belief systems, etc., also affect the experiences we have. The Newburg study (Eugene D’Aquili and Andrew Newburg, The Mystical Mind: Probing the Biology of Religious Experience) shows that Buddhist monks and Franciscan nuns, when meditating, initially display similar MRI patterns , but if you read further in the study, there is a point in the meditative experience where those patterns diverge, and they describe their experiences differently. The Franciscan nuns speak of a oneness with God, whereas the Buddhist monks speak of an impersonal void (D’Aquili and Newburg, “Religious and Mystical States,” Zygon 23:178). The scientists tell us that the divergence of areas in the brain that are stimulated in the experience (as shown in the MRI patterns) corresponds to the nuns experiencing a positive feeling and the monks experiencing a neutral feeling, hence my argument that the fact that they come to the experience of meditation with different intellectual frameworks actually affects the experience itself. The physiological activity in their brains is different because they are operating under different belief systems. Does this mean that religious experience is a product of our brains? Yes and no. Yes, in the very physiological way that I just described, but no in that the physiological basis of the experience does not negate the religious nature of the experience.

From a religious perspective (note that I am going beyond what science can prove or disprove at this point), we are embodied spirits. We do not have spiritual experiences that do not involve our bodies. Of course religious experience is physiological! The embodiedness of the experience does not make it any less of God. In Catholic theology there is a principle that God works through secondary causes. It is this principle that allows Catholic theology to see very little conflict between most areas of science and religion. Scientific explanations do not discredit theological explanations. Ultimately they should enhance theological explanations by filling us with a wonder and awe of the God whose creation is so intricate and beautiful, from the expanse of the universe to the tiniest details of every atom. That human brains should be created in such a way as to be able to have an experience that gives them a sense that there is something "more" than our own existence doesn't "prove" the existence of God, but for those of us that do believe, it sure does make sense. That those same brains are able to reflect upon theological concepts and that the different concepts in turn affect the experience one has, says something even greater to me both about free will and the infinitely, incomprehensible mystery that we call God.

This weekend we are celebrating the sacrament of Confirmation in the parish. So many people have a misconception about the sacrament of Confirmation, understanding it to be the moment when the individual "confirms" his/her faith. Confirmation is not about something the individual does; it is about something that God does. In Confirmation, God confirms you. You have been chosen by God to be a disciple, to be a witness, to be a sacrament of God's love in the world. There is also a role for the individual, which is to accept that mission (picture Mission Impossible - "your mission, should you decide to accept it . . .") and to use the gifts that God has given you to live out that mission.

The Jesuit theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar taught that it is in our mission that we receive our identity, our personhood. He taught that God creates each of us with a telos (Greek for end or purpose). It is in and through prayer, through our relationship with God, that we discover the mission or purpose that is "specifically designed for and tailored to each individual" (Theo-Drama III, 249). One only becomes conscious of one's mission through encounter with God. Confirmation can be one such encounter, where we realize we have been specifically called by God to accomplish something of God's plan for the world. It is then through living out that mission that we truly discover who we are, who we have been created to be. Each person's mission is also a participation in the mission of Christ, so that as we live out our mission, we become more holy, more Christlike, and ultimately find our fulfilment as a human person.

So often in this world we tend to search for meaning, looking for that which is going to fulfill us and make us happy. The Christian message is so simple - that our fulfillment is not found in ourselves, but in living lives of love and service. It is in giving of ourselves that we truly find ourselves. We spend our entire lives living out our mission, and in doing so, discovering ever more deeply who we truly are. Doing so takes a life of continual prayer and discernment, for rarely is the path we should take crystal clear (life would be much easier if it were, but probably not nearly as interesting). Most of the time I would guess there is no single right path, but rather many different paths we can take, all of which provide opportunities for living out our life of discipleship and mission. And so I leave you, and our Confirmands, with the words of Psalm 143:

In the morning let me know your love, for I put my trust in you. Make me know the ways I should walk; to you I lift up my soul. Rescue me, Lord, from my enemies; I have fled to you for refuge. Teach me to do your will, for you, O Lord, are my God. Let your good Spirit guide me in ways that are level and smooth.

Like many others, I was stunned and deeply saddened by the tragedy at Virginia Tech on Monday. My heart goes out to the loved ones of those who died. My heart also goes out to the parents and sister of Seung-Hui Cho. I have not heard a lot about his family, one article simply said his parents were not at home when the reporter knocked on their door, and for this I am grateful. I can't even imagine what it must be like to experience not only the death of your child, but the knowledge that your child did such a horrific thing. With all that the media has reported about this young man, from his own writings to the way he is described by teachers and classmates, it is clearly evident to me that he was seriously mentally ill. He was living in some kind of personal hell, and while many around him saw that, no one knew precisely what to do about it. This fact in no way excuses or lessens the horrific things he did, but it does make me wonder what brings a person to that point, and so I pray for him and his family as well as for all of the others who have suffered in this incident.

The tragic death of 33 people and the nations' focus on the event also makes me reflect on how fortunate I am to live a life in which I am stunned by this event. My presupposition is that when students attend classes at universities, they will be safe. My presupposition is that when I go to the grocery store or stop to fill my car up with gas, I will be safe. Yesterday at least 197 people were killed in attacks across Baghdad. 140 of them were at a market and many of those killed were women and children. I don't know what it is like to live in a world where I could be killed driving home from work or buying my food for the week. I don't know what it is like to live in the inner city in the US and worry about the safety of my children when they play outside or wait for the bus in the morning. I don't know what it is like to live in a refugee camp in Chad or Darfur and fear being raped or killed when I go to get water or firewood to keep my family alive. And so when 32 people are tragically killed at a US University, I am stunned.

Last Sunday we heard of Mary Magdelene discovering the tomb empty, and this Sunday we will hear of the appearance of the risen Lord to the disciples and then to Thomas. Here we have the beginning and the end of chapter 20 of the Gospel of John. What we miss, unless we were able to attend daily mass on Tuesday, is the middle of this chapter, which is the encounter of Mary Magdelene with the risen Lord. A couple of years ago, I was fortunate enough to hear a talk on this chapter by Sandra Schneiders, and I hear the chapter in an entirely different way now.

This chapter is about coming to belief. The themes of presence and absence, seeing and touching, all play a role in this account of the transition from a belief in Jesus based on his physical presence among the disciples to our belief today in the continued presence of Christ in our midst, but in a new way. As Schneiders laid it out, the story begins with the physical absence of the Jesus and a problem - where is the Lord? Note that the empty tomb does not engender belief, but confusion, concern, fear. The immediate assumption is that the body has been taken. What brings the disciples to faith is the encounter with the risen Lord.

Sandra Schneiders points out the interesting paradox in John's gospel. In the encounter with Mary Magdelene, Jesus tells Mary not to touch him, but in the encounter with Thomas, Jesus commands Thomas to touch him. Schneiders explains the difference by associating Mary, on the one hand, with the transition from the pre-Easter Jesus to the Easter Jesus. Jesus is present now in a new and different way; he is present now in the community of believers. The prohibition against touching him exemplifies that difference. Thomas, on the other hand, represents that transition from the Easter Jesus to the post-Easter Jesus. The disciples believe because they have seen the Lord. Thomas has not seen the Lord, and refuses to believe. He does not accept the testimony and witness of the others, of "the church". When Jesus appears again, he says to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands. . . . do not be unbelieving, but believe" (v. 27). To see in John's gospel is to come to faith, which Thomas does in his exclamation, "My Lord and my God!" The new generations of believers will have to come to faith through the testimony and witness of others; by spiritual sight, not physical sight. That spiritual sight will then allow them to encounter the risen Christ.

Tonight we begin the Triduum (Latin for "three day") with our Holy Thursday service, The Mass of the Lord's Supper. The Triduum is one service that begins tonight, includes the Good Friday liturgy, and culminates in the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday, the highest, holiest celebration in our Church year. In these three days we enter into the paschal mystery, the suffering, death, and resurrection of Christ. Tonight we will hear the earliest account of the Last Supper, the reading from Paul's Letter to the Corinthians (written a good 15-30 yrs. before any of the gospel accounts). Paul is writing in response to the disreputable behavior of the Corinthian community at their celebrations of the Lord's Supper. I once heard a priest in a talk on the Eucharist say, "Thank God for the drunks at Corinth!" Those drunks are the reason Paul recounts the words of Jesus at the Last Supper. Paul's insight in this 11th chapter of this letter is that when the Corinthians mistreat their fellow Christians, when they let some in their community go hungry and suffer while they indulge themselves, they do not recognize Christ, and thus eat and drink judgment upon themselves. They do not discern the body. In other words, they do not recognize that they are the body of Christ, and when they do not recognize Christ's presence in one another, they do not recognize Christ in the body.

The gospel we hear from John gives a similar message. In the Gospel of John, there is no account of the sharing of the bread and wine. Instead we hear about the washing of the feet. Jesus washes his disciples feet, a gesture of love, concern, humbleness, service, and tells them that as he has done for them, so they are to do for one another. In this passage is one of the most profound lines in John's gospel for me:

I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do. (John 13:15)

If we could live by this one line in the Gospel, we would have understood Jesus' entire life and message; we would have understood what it means to be a Christian. We literally wash one another's feet at the Holy Thursday service. If you have ever had your feet washed, you may know that it is not always a comfortable feeling. You have to be willing to be a bit vulnerable to have your feet washed. You have to recognize another's vulnerability and trust when you wash her feet. In many places 12 are picked to have their feet washed. I have also attended at places where everyone washes someone's feet and has her own feet washed. The theme of Holy Thursday is what it means to be a member of the body of Christ, the continuing sacrament of God's love in the world.

On Good Friday we venerate the cross. We do not worship the object, but rather express our devotion to what the object stands for - the crucifixion of Christ. The cross represents Christ's sacrifice for us and his solidarity with us in our moments of worst suffering. The cross should tell us that we are never alone, even when we feel abandoned by all including God. The cross is the symbol of God's love for us poured out. The cross tells us that God's reaction to our sinfulness is to love us without any conditions. Nothing we could ever do can "separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:39)

Easter, like all of our feast days, begins at sundown Saturday night. At the Easter Vigil, we begin in darkness as the Paschal candle is lit. The light of Christ's resurrection is spread through the entire church, as each of us receives the light and then gives what we have received, the pattern of our Christian lives. We hear the story of salvation history - the way God has worked in our history from the moment of creation. We welcome new members into the Church and renew our own baptismal vows, seeing in the waters of baptism that we have become new creations, we have put on Christ, we are transfigured. We again receive what we are and become what we receive in the Eucharist, and we are sent out into the world to take the Easter light into all the darkest places in our lives and our world.

This week we will hear two different accounts of the passion narrative during Holy Week, the one from the lectionary cycle (this year Luke) on Palm Sunday and the one from the Gospel of John on Good Friday. These readings and the veneration of the cross on Good Friday call to mind for us the meaning of the crucifixion in our salvation. I have often reflected on what we mean when we say that we are saved through Christ's death on the cross, that in this act is the forgiveness of sins and the redemption of humankind. After Pope John Paul II died, I read Crossing the Threshold of Hope, responses John Paul II wrote to interview questions he had been given. One of the passages profoundly impacted the way I thought about the cross and salvation. In the context of a discussion about suffering, Pope John Paul II says:

In a certain sense one could say that confronted with our human freedom, God decided to make himself "impotent." And one could say that God is paying for the great gift bestowed upon a being He created "in his image, after his likeness" (cf. Gn 1:26). Before this gift, He remains consistent, and places Himself before the judgment of man, before an illegitimate tribunal which asks Him provocative questions: "Then you are a king?" (cf. Jn 18:37); "Is it true that all which happens in the world, in the history of Israel, in the history of all nations, depends on you?"

We know Christ's response to this question before Pilate's tribunal: "For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth" (Jn 18:37). But then: "What is truth?" (Jn 18:38), and here ended the judicial proceeding, that tragic proceeding in which man accused God before the tribunal of his own history, and in which the sentence handed down did not conform to the truth. Pilate says: "I find no guilt in him" (Jn 18:38), and a second later he orders: "Take him yourselves and crucify him!" (Jn 19:6). In this way he washes his hands of the issue and returns the responsibility to the violent crowd.

Therefore, the condemnation of God by man is not based on truth, but on arrogance, on an underhanded conspiracy. Isn't this the truth about the history of humanity, the truth about our century? In our time the same condemnation has been repeated in many courts of totalitarian regimes (p. 65, italics in original).

Reflecting on this passage, I thought, everytime we fail to see what is sacred and give reverence and respect to what is sacred, we are guilty of the very sinfulness that led the people of Jesus' time to crucify him. Everytime in our own lives we fail to recognize God in our midst, we crucify Christ. We crucify Christ in our blindness or apathy toward the suffering of the innocent. The cross is not about God substituting punishment of Jesus for punishment of us; it is our false judgment of God - a judgment not based on truth, but on our arrogance and underhanded conspiracy, our attempts to protect the status quo, to maintain our power and control -- in a word, what we call original sin. Pilate asks, "What is truth?" In the passion narrative, Pilate does not recognize truth when it is right in front of him. Peter denies the truth. Judas betrays the truth.

God's reaction to our sinfulness is not wrathful punishment, but rather is to embrace it in a willing acceptance of the cross and to redeem it through an outpouring of love for us. God brings resurrection out of our crucifixions of God. In that is the forgiveness of our sins - that God looks at us, sees us for who we truly are (sees the truth) and all that we have done and failed to do, and loves us unconditionally. God enters into solidarity with us, into union with us, and draws us into the divine embrace of the Trinity. Through our baptism we are always, already forgiven all that we do, because by the Spirit we are united to Christ on the cross and our sinfullness is redeemed and transfigured in the resurrection. In our baptisms, we are plunged into the death and resurrection of Christ. At reconciliation we experience and celebrate that unconditional love and forgiveness that calls us to be and reminds us that we always can be more. At Eucharist we renew and rejoice in our unity with God and one another through receiving and being the Body of Christ; and in accepting the cup, we accept God's mercy and forgivenenss, renewing the covenant, surrendering to God, and joining our "Amen" to God to the Amen of Christ on the cross. As we renew our baptismal vows this Easter, may all of our sinfulness be transformed and transfigured by the love God has poured out for us on the cross.

It always seems odd to me to use the word "anniversary" to refer to a sorrowful event. I am so used to hearing the word to refer to the celebration of marriages or ordinations or birthdays, events that are joyful. This week marks two sorrowful anniversaries of which we should be mindful. The first would be hard to miss with all of the discussion in the media of the fourth anniversary of the invasion of Iraq on March 19th. The second is the 27th anniversary of the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero on March 24th. Both should remind us to continually pray for peace.

The Catholic Church was adamantly opposed to the invasion of Iraq four years ago. We cannot, however, turn back the hands of time and undo what has been done. In his statement "Towards a Responsible Transition in Iraq," written over a year ago for the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Bishop Wenski stated:

Our nation cannot afford a shrill and shallow debate that distorts reality and reduces the options to “cut and run” versus “stay the course.” Instead we need a forthright discussion that begins with an honest assessment of the situation in Iraq and acknowledges both the mistakes that have been made and the signs of hope that have appeared. Most importantly, an honest assessment of our moral responsibilities toward Iraq should commit our nation to a policy of responsible transition.

In January of this year, in the statement "Evaluating Plans for a Responsible Transition in Iraq," Bishop Skyland wrote:

Each course of action, including current policies, ought to be evaluated in light of our nation’s moral responsibility to help Iraqis to live with security and dignity in the aftermath of U.S. military action. Our nation’s military forces should remain in Iraq only as long as their presence actually contributes to a responsible transition. Our nation should seek effective ways to end their deployment at the earliest opportunity consistent with this goal. The Holy See and our bishops’ Conference expressed grave moral concerns about military intervention in Iraq and the unpredictable and uncontrollable negative consequences of invasion and occupation. In light of current realities, the Holy See and our Conference support broader regional and international engagement to increase security, stability and reconstruction in Iraq. . . . At this critical juncture as our nation seeks a new way forward in Iraq, our leaders have a moral obligation to examine where things genuinely stand in pursuing justice and peace in Iraq, to assess what is actually achievable there, and to evaluate the moral and human consequences of alternative courses of action and whether they truly contribute to a responsible transition. At this difficult moment, let us pray for our nation, for the people of Iraq and for all those who bear the responsibility and burden of these difficult choices. We ask God for courage, humility and wisdom as we seek a path to a responsible transition in Iraq.

There is no easy solution to the problem of Iraq. For more information on the bishops concerns and suggestions, see the "Questions and Answers on the War in Iraq," they published in February.

The second sorrowful anniversary is the assassination of Oscar Romero, the Archbishop of San Salvador. When Romero was selected to be Archbishop, nobody thought his impact would be very great. He was labeled a "conservative" and was predicted to be a person who would maintain the status quo. The two previous years he had spent as bishop of a poor rural district in El Salvador had made an impact on him, however, as he encountered the desperate poverty of his people and the unjust wages and working conditions that were a part of their daily lives (see James Brockman's article in Spirituality Today). Archbishop Romero was further affected by the assassination of a Jesuit priest weeks after he became Archbishop. Over the next three years five more priests and numerous catechists and church leaders were assassinated. Romero went to the Pope John Paul II with seven dossiers documenting the violence that was being perpetrated on his people, he went to Pres. Carter to ask the US to stop funding the El Salvadoran military that was behind the slaughter of his people, but in the end, he was not able to get anyone to listen and even his fellow El Salvadoran bishops turned their backs on him.

Romero was undeterred. He encouraged his people by preaching the Word of God each week, his homilies being broadcast across the nation by the archdiocesan radio station. His homilies would last more than an hour, and he

began to incorporate a report and commentary on the past week's events into his homily on the scripture readings of the mass. "We can not segregate God's word from the historical reality in which it is proclaimed," he said. "That would not be God's word . . . .It is God's word because it enlightens, contrasts with, repudiates, or praises what is going on today in this society." The people themselves, he told them, must learn from his example to apply God's word to their own lives, just as he was trying to apply it to the life of the nation and of their church. (Brockman)

He preached that if they kill all of the priests, each of the people must become God's microphone, must become a prophet. He said, "I do not believe in death without resurrection. If they kill me, I will be resurrected in the Salvadoran people." Days before he was killed, he said,

You can tell the people that if they succeed in killing me, that I forgive and bless those who do it. Hopefully, they will realize they are wasting their time. A bishop will die, but the church of God, which is the people, will never perish.

He challenged the army to stop the repression, to stop killing their fellow citizens, stating, "No soldier is obliged to obey an order that is contrary to the will of God." The next day he was killed. On March 24th, 1980, Archbishop Oscar Romero was shot in the heart while celebrating the mass. In his final homily, moments before he was killed, Archbishop Romero challenged all of us, saying:

One must not love oneself so much, as to avoid getting involved in the risks of life that history demands of us, and those that fend off danger will lose their lives.

To read more of Archbishop Romero's words, see the collection of his homilies, The Violence of Love.

I have a hard time believing that I feel the need to once again address this topic, and I can't even tell you the sense of hopelessness I feel settle in my soul with that thought. If I, with my comfortable home, safe life, food, water, etc., feel such hopelessness, how must the people of Darfur feel, living with death, rape, torture, and starvation on a daily basis? How is it that after more than four years of saying this cannot continue, the genocide goes on? Despite the Darfur Peace Agreement brokered in May of 2006, the United Nations reports that "violence has increased since late 2005 and has continued unabated into 2007." Estimates of deaths from the conflict itself and from lack of food, water, and health care among the refugees is estimated between 200,000 and 400,000. Over 2.5 million people have been displaced. Villages have been bombed and burned. Wells and livestock are deliberately destroyed. In the words of the United States Bishops, "this new wave of violence points to a collective failure on the part of the international community to stem what can only be described as a catastrophe." The people in the refugee camps cannot survive without water and firewood, and so they must leave the supposedly safe refugee camps to collect these essentials. If the men go for water and firewood, they risk being castrated and killed; if the the women and children to, they risk being gang raped and abducted. The choices these families have to make are not choices any human being should ever have to face. At the same time, because of the increased violence, humanitarian workers are increasingly less able to get supplies to those who need them most, both because of the extreme danger involved, and because they are frequently being denied access to the country by the Sudanese government. The UN report concluded:

The situation is characterized by gross and systematic violations of human rights and grave breaches of international humanitarian law. War crimes and crimes against humanity continue across the region. . . . While important steps have been taken by the international community, including the African Union and the United Nations, these have been largely resisted and obstructed, and have proven inadequate and ineffective. . . . The Mission further concludes that the Government of the Sudan has manifestly failed to protect the population of Darfur from large-scale international crimes, and has itself orchestrated and participated in these crimes. As such, the solemn obligation of the international community to exercise its responsibility to protect has become evident and urgent.

I am sure that many of you, like me, have worried and prayed over the situation in Darfur. Maybe you have contacted Congress and the President to express your concerns or signed a petition. I know that there is extreme frustration with the feeling of futility this situation engenders. The US has pledged financial support, and President Bush did appoint a special envoy, Ambassador Andrew Natsios, to work on the situation with Sudan. Part of the problem is that the Africa Union troops on the ground do not have a mandate to protect civilians, but only a mandate to monitor the ceasefire. They have neither the numbers (7,000 troops) nor the equipment to do either. Many of the soldiers go months without being paid, they are demoralised, and the African countries involved are starting to talk about pulling their troops out. The Sudanese government is resisting efforts to deploy a combined UN - AU force of 20,000 troops.

The USCCB is calling for the following:

1. Ask the U.S. to pressure both the government and the rebels to respect a ceasefire and to intensify the search for a just and durable peace, while urging both Sudan and Chad to refrain from supporting each other’s rebel movements.
2. Urge the U.S. to use its voice in the UN Security Council to continue and strengthen the mandate of the African Union in Darfur to monitor the ceasefire, protect innocent civilians and assist international humanitarian relief organizations, while urging NATO to provide AMIS with all possible logistical support, until its transition to a more robust, well funded force with a strong mandate.
3. Encourage the U.S. Administration to hold the signatories to the peace agreement accountable and to honor its promise to provide substantial financial and political support to the government of national unity to undertake the reconstruction of the country and its civil society.
4. Urge the UN Security Council to continue its support for the peacekeeping mission that is working with all parties to the national-unity government to implement the peace accord. The United States should provide adequate funding and logistical support so that peace and security might be achieved.

To see how our senators and representatives have voted on various Darfur legislative methods, go to the Darfur Scorecard website. I encourage all of you to continue urging those in Congress and our administration to keep the issue of Darfur as a top priority for our country and for all humankind. I am glad that the Catholic Church has been proactive, not only in lobbying for the international community to step in and do something about Darfur, but also in directly helping those most in need through Catholic Relief Services. CRS provides an easy way for us to contact our government with our concerns as well as a way to support the direct aid that is being given to those living in the midst of this nightmare. The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops also is part of the executive committee of Save Darfur, a coalition of many different organizations all working together to help the people of Darfur. The one small light in the darkness of this situation for me was reading the list of member organizations in this coalition. The list contains various Islamic, Jewish, Catholic, Protestant, Buddhist, and Unitarian organizations, as well as different charitable, ethnic, regional, etc., groups who have put aside any and all differences to recognize that our common humanity is greater than any of the differences between us, and to say with one voice that what has happened and continues to happen in Darfur is an affront to that humanity.

Lent is a time when Catholics traditionally do an examination of conscience. This spiritual exercise comes in many forms and formats, but basically it is taking a look at oneself and evaluating to what extent I am being the person I want to be, the person I am called to be. Many examinations of conscience focus on the ten commandments. The Ten Commandments can be broken down into the two great commandments of Jesus, to love God and to love your neighbor. The first three commandments have to do with loving God: “You shall have no other God before Me,” “You shall not take the Lord’s name in vain,” and “You shall keep holy the Sabbath.”

The rest of the commandments are ways in which we love our neighbors. They call us us to affirm life (“You shall not kill”), honor families (“You shall honor your mother and father), and honor the covenant of marriage (“You shall not commit adultery” and “You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife”). We hear a lot about the importance of family values today. Ideally the family is the place for one’s primary relationships and the place one receives love and support. The concept of ‘family’ includes a lot of diversity, for example single parent families, intergenerational families, or families that include a diversity of race or religion. To be a family is to be held together by commitment and love. As such we use the term ‘family’ as an analogy for communities that mirror that commitment and love as in ‘our parish family’. Our faith upholds the ideal that families are sacred. As some of you may have heard me say many times, the family is the first and foremost place a child learns about faith. The Church has a role in supporting families and marriages and upholding both as ideals. We also recognize that life is often not ideal, and our family relationships sometimes fall short of what we hoped and dreamed they would be. Thus the Church also has a role in helping people grieve when they experience loss or brokenness in their families through death, divorce, or the other hardships we encounter in life. Please know that those of us who work in parishes consider it part of our ministry to support you and your children during those difficult times, and hope you feel free to seek us out in that capacity.

Other commandments deal with possessions. They entreat us to respect the property of others (“You shall not steal”) and avoid coveting what is not ours (“You shall not covet your neighbor’s goods”). Most of us are probably not going to hold up a bank at any time in the near future, but these commandments do encourage us to look more closely at ways in which we might be less honest about possessions than we should be. Such an examination of conscience might include examining one’s investments to see if the companies in which one invests operate out of sound ethics, including such matters as how they treat their workers. It might mean examining how often we give in to the materialist expectations of our culture – how aware are we of what we need versus what we want? It is also not always goods or possessions that we covet, sometimes it can be someone else’s position or power or even his/her happiness. These commandments encourage us to examine our lives to see if we have made any false idols in our lives, i.e., that which we seek with the ardor with which we should seek God.

The final commandment left entreats us to be honest (“You shall not bear false witness”) and appreciate the dignity of the human person (an obviously recurring theme among our doctrines that is included in all of these commandments). Honesty has to do with our basic integrity and authenticity as human beings. It includes a prohibition against lying, but it also includes a prescription to have a congruity between the person you are on the inside and the person you present to the world, between your beliefs and your actions. The theological foundation for this commandment is the belief that our God “is truth and wills the truth (CCC 2464).” Part of our dignity as human beings is to be the image and likeness of our God who is truth. To be that image and likeness demands that we are always striving toward a deeper integrity and authenticity as a human being.

"Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return." This phrase is one of the options given to be said when we receive ashes on Ash Wednesday. It is not used as often anymore. More frequently one of the other options, such as, "Repent, and believe the Good News!" is used. I used to be rather disturbed by the "dust to dust" phrase; it seemed so morbid. Now I rather like it and wish it was used more often. Thinking about it this past Ash Wednesday, I realized it is not meant to be morbid, so much as to make us reflect on the fact that this life and the things of this life are not ultimate. That does not mean that they are bad, it just means we need to keep things in perspective. All that we encounter in this life is finite and impermanent. We are beings that are created for the infinite, that are created for God. We are enjoined to enjoy this life and to make the most of the time we are given, but also to recognize that nothing in this life can ultimately fulfill us. I have frequently quoted Augustine and will do so again,

"You created us for yourself, O God, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."

Augustine's quote should be our guiding image through Lent.

Lent, for me, is a time of retreat. We hear the call from God on Ash Wednesday in the words from Joel 2:12, "Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart." I always look forward to Lent as a time of spiritual renewal in my life. It is a time for me to reflect on the fact that I too often try to find fulfillment in the things of this world instead of in surrendering to God. In my head I know that it is only in surrendering to God that I find that peace and freedom I so desperately need, but being that I tend to be a control freak, I just forget to let go! That reminds me of a family story we always tell when teaching someone to water ski. When I was young, we were teaching a friend to water ski, and it did not even occur to us to tell her that if she fell, she should let go of the rope. She did fall, held on and was dragged underwater for several feet before she finally let go. We were all in the boat yelling for her to let go, but she was underwater and could not hear us. Sometimes our spiritual lives are like that. We have fallen and are being dragged underwater so that we cannot even breathe, and all we need to do to recover is let go. Sometimes we hang on until the force of being sucked under finally forces us to let go.

In addition to re-learning the need to surrender to God in Lent, to look for that ultimate fulfillment of our lives in God, Lent is a reminder of how short this life can be. That is another reason I like the phrase, "Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return." I tend to take my life, with all of the people and experiences that entails, for granted. I have frequently told others that we should live our lives more as if each day were the last, appreciating the giftedness of each moment. Doing so puts life in perspective so that we mend broken relationships in a timely matter, and we remember to appreciate the people in our lives and tell them how much they mean to us. Of course, it is much easier to tell others to do this than to do it myself! Lent is a time to ask myself, what would I do if today were my last day on earth? What would I say to the people I love? Who would I make a point to talk to? Do the people who are important to me and who have impacted my life know how they have affected me?

I hope that you will find this Lent a time of spiritual renewal, a time to come to a new appreciation of God and the gift of life. The traditional practices of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving will hopefully help all of us be mindful of what is ultimate in life, what we have been given, and how we appreciate what we have been given. "Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

I'm going to use this week's blog to expand on a comment on last week's blog. If you didn't read Sara's comment last week, which raised some excellent points, she stated:

Was it Rahner who asserted that all language about God has to be comparative and relational? I just read that section in She Who Is, but I can't remember the exact wording used. I think our divisions by sex, or imaging of God by gender is such a limited (and limiting!) understanding. After all, the Bible says "male AND female, He created them," not "male OR female."

Her comment caused me to pull out She Who Is by Elizabeth Johnson, and I found several points in there I wanted to share this week. Karl Rahner does assert that God is first and foremost incomprehensible mystery, and therefore all of our language about God falls short of the reality it is trying to express. God is beyond our cognitive grasp. We can "know" God, but when we do, we "know" God as mystery. The word "God" actually works because it is empty of all content. Unlike other words we use for God, such as "Father" or "Lord", the word God is not metaphorical; it is not a word that is taken from our prior human experience and applied to God. We create images and concepts of God, but those images and concepts can never fully capture God. Rahner also points out, in an article titled, "When God is Far From Us," that at times the images we have been using for God no longer work, and the consequence is the feeling that God is absent. It is not that God is truly absent, it is that God is not fitting our image or idea of what God is supposed to be, and we have to let go of that image in order to reconnect with God. Elizabeth Johnson quotes C.S. Lewis on this point. In his work A Grief Observed, Lewis says:

My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it Himself. He is the great iconoclast. Could we not almost say that his shattering is one of the marks of His presence? (p. 52; cited in Johnson, p. 39.)

Lewis' idea of God was shattered by the death of his wife. He had very explicit ideas about the purpose of pain and suffering in our lives, but when his wife died, his previous understanding of God no longer worked. Our images of God change and grow as we go through various experiences of life, and sometimes that growth can be painful.

The idea that our concepts fall short of God is as ancient as the prohibition on images of God in the ten commandments, but has been profoundly restated by theologians over time. St. Augustine simply states, "If you have understood, then what you have understood is not God." In its more expanded form quoted by Johnson, Augustine says:

If you have understood, then this is not God. If you were able to understand, then you understood something else instead of God. If you were able to understand even partially, then you have decieved yourself with your own thoughts. (Sermo 52, c.6, n.16; cited in Johnson, p. 109.)

Thomas Aquinas follows Augustine on this line of thought. Johnson quotes the following passage from Aquinas:

Since our mind is not proportionate to the divine substance, that which is the substance of God remains beyond our intellect and so is unknown to us. Hence the supreme knowledge we have of God is to know that we do not know God, insofar as we know that what God is surpasses all that we can understand of [God]. (De Potentia q.7, a.5; cited in Johnson, p. 45.)

Nonetheless, we do need to be able to talk about God and put our experience of God into human concepts. For this reason, Aquinas develops the doctrine of analogy which says whenever we affirm something of God, we must also negate it, and then negate the negation. In other words, we can say God is good, but God is not good as humans are good, God is good beyond what we can even understand goodness to be because God is the source of all goodness (see Johnson, p. 113). We use our human concepts to talk and think about God, but we also recognize the limits of those concepts.

This point brings us back to the topic of gender and metaphor for God. Speaking of God in language that is masculine or feminine is always using language that is metaphorical. The problem is not using such language; the problem is taking such language literally. Many feminist theologians, including Elizabeth Johnson, would argue for the necessity of using feminine images and pronouns to break through the exclusive hold masculine images and pronouns have held through the years. Read some of the Psalms, for example, and replace "he" and "him" with "she" and "her". Does it make you uncomfortable? Why? That reaction is something to examine within yourself. Has a masculine image of God become an idol in your thinking about God? Many raise the objection that Jesus was male, but Jesus' "maleness" was part of his humanity, as was his height, weight, hair color, etc. Some also protest that Jesus spoke of God as male when he called God "Abba". He did, but we also have to understand the historical context in which he was preaching. He also did use feminine images for speaking about God and God's reign (a mother hen gathering her chicks, a woman searching for a coin), albeit not as frequently. The most prevalent use of feminine language for God is Scripture are the passages about Wisdom/Sophia, for example in Wisdom 7:22-27

For in her is a spirit intelligent, holy, unique,
Manifold, subtle, agile, clear, unstained, certain,
Not baneful, loving the good, keen, unhampered, beneficent, kindly,
Firm, secure, tranquil, all-powerful, all-seeing,
And pervading all spirits,
though they be intelligent, pure and very subtle.
For Wisdom is mobile beyond all motion,
and she penetrates and pervades all things
by reason of her purity.
For she is an aura of the might of God
and a pure effusion of the glory of the Almighty;
therefore nought that is sullied enters into her.
For she is the refulgence of eternal light,
the spotless mirror of the power of God,
the image of his goodness.
And she, who is one, can do all things,
and renews everything while herself perduring;
And passing into holy souls from age to age,
she produces friends of God and prophets.

In closing, I just want to highlight the an important point Sara made in her comment, that we are made in God's image "male and female" not "male or female". Thanks Sara, for that profound insight!

A friend showed me a CNN video clip the other day about a 12 year old child prodigy artist named Akiane Kramarik. At the age of four Akiane had an experience of God, even more extraordinary given that she was raised in a home where faith was not practiced or discussed. Her mother had been raised atheist, and her father was a former Catholic. (See article in Christianity Today.) In the CNN interview, speaking of when Akiane first started describing the visions, Akiane's mother tells the reporter, "I knew it was real to her, the things she had seen and the places she had visited." Through their daughter's experience of God, Akiane's parents have found/renewed their own faith in God. While Akiane enjoys painting portraits and animals, she also started to paint her visions. Through the visions Akiane felt called to help others, not only through her artwork, but also actively working to relieve suffering in the world. She gives a portion of the proceeds of her artwork to charity and is hoping to start building hospitals in Lithuania (her mother's home country) and will soon begin a tour to raise money to alleviate suffering from AIDS in Africa.

In addition to the paintings themselves, Akiane would pray, reflect, and write poetry about the paintings. Akiane explains that her poetry writes about the suffering and the hardship of humankind; her art shows the hope. About a painting titled, "Divine Knowledge," Akiane writes:

"This painting was particularly hard for me, because I have changed it so many times and ended up using two models and two completely different backgrounds. It took me a few months to paint its full meaning and another five months of prayer to fully understand it. This is the painting about search for divine knowledge.The young sculptor represents our civilization mostly ruled by the male. His youth shows that our civilization is still immature. The sculptor is chiseling a huge heap of coal in order to find the diamond representing divine knowledge. The sculptor ignores the pain, strain, hardship and temptation of everything surrounding him. All he focuses on is on finding this particular diamond, and he knows that if he chisels long enough through the black coal layers, representing human knowledge, he will finally see the diamond of divine knowledge. In the background of a cave"

The poem she writes with the painting states:

“…Only from the deep coal tunnels
White diamonds come.
But only by the light
They are recognized…”

Akiane tells CNN that her vision of heaven is vivid and full of color, more colors than we can even imagine. God she describes as "bold light, pure, really masculine, really strong and big." I write about Akiane both because her story and her work touched me deeply, but also because it gives me an opportunity to talk about visions and images of God. If you or I were to have a vision of God, there is a good chance that God would not look to us as God looks to Akiane. God is imageless, and so when a person has a vision, God works through the person's imagination, which is not to say the vision is "made up". God works through the person's own consciousness and the concepts or experiences the person has at her disposal as well as through the subconscious. Many mystics have visions of God, but rarely do two mystics describe God in the same way. Often times words fall short of describing the experience.

Julian of Norwich had many visions of "showings" of God. In her writing about on of her visions, she states:

"As truly as God is our Father, so truly is God our Mother, and he revealed that in everything, and especially in these sweet words where he says: I am he; that is to say: I am he, the power and goodness of fatherhood; I am he, the wisdom and lovingness of motherhood; I am he, the light and the grace which is all blessed love; I am he, the Trinity; I am he, the unity; I am he, the great supreme goodness of every kind of thing; I am he who makes you to love: I am he who makes you to long; I am he, the endless fulfilling of all true desires."

Our images of God tell us about our relationship to God, and they also tell us a lot about ourselves. When I taught theology, I would ask my students to describe God for me. I would write the characteristics they said on the board: powerful, loving, just, compassionate, strong, etc. Then I would ask, for each trait, whether it was masculine or feminine. The results were never entirely surprising: powerful - masculine, loving - feminine, just - masc., compassionate - fem., strong - masc., etc. Eventually someone would sort of catch on and start replying "both". I would have them look at the board and tell me what this says about God. God is not male or female - God does not have a body. Then I would ask what it says about us. What does it mean to men that we say being loving and compassionate is feminine? What does it mean to women that we say being powerful, strong, and just is masculine? I recently heard that there is a new movement afoot called the "menaissance" (like Renaissance) encouraging men to be more manly and less "in touch with their feelings". Similarly much of the language about complementarity between the sexes has the danger of stereotyping men and women and limiting both groups in terms of what it means to be human. I recently heard a homily (not at St. Monica's) about husbands needing to love their wives, and wives needing to respect their husbands. Not once did the priest say that wives should also love their husbands, and husbands also need to respect their wives.

Many people are uncomfortable with feminist theology and feminine images of God, but as theologian Elizabeth Johnson points out, the symbol of God functions. The way we image God has an impact on the way we understand the human persons created in God's image. What does it say about all of the traits listed above when we exclusively image God as male? Not that it is wrong to image God as male, but it is also not wrong to use female metaphors for God, because all of our language about God is metaphor. Images help us relate to God, but they do not capture God. Johnson also points out that to use one image exclusively for God is actually idolatry.

So what does this have to do with Akiane's paintings? I invite you to hear her story and look at the images she has created, and I hope that they will inspire you as they do me. But I also offer them to you with the caveat to take them as real and true, for Akiane and maybe for you, but not literal. They are beautiful symbols and representations of an extraordinary relationship this little girl has with God that, as she herself points out, will always go beyond what we can capture with the limited means at our disposal in this life.

My reflections this week come from the confluence of three sources: I have been reading Henri Nouwen's book, The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom, we read and discussed Elie Wiesel's book, Night, in our book club, and I prepared a talk on C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. Nouwen's work is a collection of reflections he wrote as he was recovering from a spiritual/emotional breakdown. Wiesel's book is the account of his time in the Nazi concentration camps. Most of us are probably familiar with Lewis' series, at least from seeing commercials for the movie, if not having read the books themselves.

Nouwen reflects a lot on God's unconditional love for us, and the way in which we need to find that place within ourselves where we connect to that love in order to not look for that fulfillment from other human beings. He recognizes that when other people touch us in that place which is most vulnerable, it can awaken a tremendous need within us, but that if we do not see that need as the need for God, if we try to have that person who touched us so deeply fulfill that need within us, we will inevitably be hurt. He also reflects that once we do find our security in that experience of trusting the most vulnerable part of ourselves to God, we are free to love others without expecting to receive love from them in return. He does maintain that we have a need for human love as well as for God's love and that God intends to bring people into our lives to fulfill that need, but those people may not be the same people to whom we give our love. The only problem I have with Nouwen's reflections is that sometimes it seems that when we trust that most vulnerable piece of ourselves to God, we experience being hurt or let down by God. Regardless if that is not really the case in the grand scheme of things, that is our experience. We don't understand why things turn out the way that they do.

Reading Wiesel's account of the concentration camps, one cannot help but ask with him, "Where was God?" How could God have let such a thing happen? Granted there was tremendous evil at work, and humans were ultimately culpable both for directly perpetrating the evil that took place as well as for being complacent with its occurrence even when they were not directly involved. I also do believe that God was working in those who risked their lives to save others during that time, but that still doesn't answer why God did not intervene in some direct way to stop what was occurring. It raises many theological questions for us about whether and how God intervenes, to which there are very few satisfactory answers.

That brings me to Narnia. In Narnia the children ask if Aslan (the Lion who is the God/Christ figure in the story) is safe. Mr. Beaver responds, "Of course he isn't safe. But he is good." One of the articles I was reading related this statement to Lewis' own experience of God. Lewis' mother died when he was a child. His father was unable to overcome his own grief enough to be any source of comfort and love to his grieving children. The children were sent to boarding schools where the experience was abusive to the extent that Lewis calls that chapter in his autobiography, "Concentration Camp." The author of the article I read reflected that Lewis' own experience of God led him to the conclusion that God is not safe. God does not protect us from bad things happening to us. God is also not tame for Lewis. As the children cannot control Aslan, we cannot control God. We can pray for help; we do pray for help, but we cannot make God do what we want. In the movie Shadowlands, which is about C.S. Lewis losing his wife to cancer, Lewis' character states, "I do not pray because it changes God; I pray because it changes me. I pray because the need flows out of me constantly."

This is the paradox of our faith. Bad things do happen to us. We do not understand. We do not know why God does not intervene to stop these things from happening. We may even feel betrayed and hurt by God, finding it hard to trust God again. But ultimately we also experience God as the only one we can turn to at such times, the one who is there with us, crucified on the cross of suffering. The one who is with us in our cry, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?" And in that experience we pray that we can come again to the place where we feel God's unconditional love for us, the place where God, who "is not safe" paradoxically becomes our place of safety, our home.

I wanted to post these pictures from northern Wisconsin along with my “Merry Christmas” wishes on December 25th, but due to my impatience and dial-up internet service, I was not able to get them posted. Being in northern Wisconsin always makes me mindful of the presence of God because of the awesome beauty of God’s creation. We believe that God is creator, and as such, all that God created is good. This is the message of the story in Genesis, in which God creates and then God proclaims that what has been created is good. Theologically, the Catholic Church teaches that creation proclaims the presence of God. Even without revelation, one would be able to come to a natural knowledge of God as creator through contemplating the beauty and the wonder of the created world. St. Bonaventure, a Franciscan friar who lived in the 13th century, wrote The Soul’s Journey Into God in which he reflected that creation is a book that has been written by God. The first movement of the soul toward God is the ladder of creation. For Bonaventure, in nature we see the footprints of God. To say that the world is sacramental is to say that it is a visible way in which God is present to us – if we know how to look at it.

When God creates the humans, he gives them dominion over creation. Dominion, when used in this way is not understood as domination, but rather as stewardship. God has given us the gift of creation, but has also entrusted it to our care. We are the stewards of the earth and its resources. Part of our job as stewards is to protect the earth and to make sure the resources are sustained. Part of our job as stewards is to make sure those resources are used justly and responsibly. To lose parts of the natural world through extinction or destruction is to lose part of God’s revelation to us.

In the creation account in Genesis, we also learn that God made human beings in the image and likeness of God. The fact that all human beings are created in God’s image means that all human life is sacred. All human life has dignity, not because of anything a human being does, but simply by the fact that he or she is created by God as an image of God, regardless of race, religion, gender or any of the other ways we categorize human beings. Such dignity is called inherent dignity in moral theology, because it is given to us as part of who we are, as opposed to ascribed dignity, which we grant to people on the basis of things they do or how they act. The inherent dignity and sacredness of human life means that as Christians we must protect all lives and make sure people live in conditions that are worthy of their dignity as images of God. We use the language of the seamless garment to talk about issues of life, which means that all of the issues around protecting and sustaining life are connected in such an integral way that you cannot stand for one and not the other. Many Catholics are familiar with the concept of pro-life in terms of being anti-abortion, but in Catholic teaching pro-life also means that one should stand against capital punishment, against war unless there is absolutely no other way to defend oneself, against assisted suicide. It also means that we must stand for life-giving and sustaining issues – making sure that people have proper food, clothing, and shelter, making sure children are being nourished and nurtured, making sure neighborhoods are places of safety instead of violence. As Christians, we must be scandalized that people still starve to death every day in our world. As stewards, especially stewards that live in the wealthiest nation in the world, we must work to see that the resources we have, resources that have been given to us by God, are distributed in a just manner.

It is especially important these days to remember that as Christians we also called to be peace-makers. We strive for peace both because war violates the sacredness of human life and because we have been given the peace of Christ and are compelled to share it with others. We believe that the reign of God is both already here, having broken through in Christ, and not yet fully here. Thus we work with God to give hope to the world that peace is possible, to keep alive the vision of Micah and Isaiah who looked to the day when the nations will “beat their swords into plowshares, their spears into pruning hooks;” a vision of a world in which “one nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again (Is. 2:3-4, Micah 4:3).”

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.'

Then the righteous will answer him and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?'

And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'

Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.'

Then they will answer and say, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?'

He will answer them, 'Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.' And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life."

Matthew 25:31-46

As I mentioned last week, January is Poverty in America Awareness Month. (All information in the blog is taken from the United States Catholic Conference of Bishops website. They take most of their information from the U.S. Census Bureau.) 37 million Americans, or 1 in 8 are living below the poverty line; 34.9% of those are children. Of the 37 million, 16.2 million are non-Hispanic white Americans, 9.4 million are Hispanic Americans, 9.2 million are African Americans, and 1.4 are Asian Americans. The city of Milwaukee is number nine in the ten cities with the highest poverty rate in the United States and number four in the ten cities with the highest child poverty rate. These are "top ten" lists those of us who live in the Milwaukee metro area should be ashamed to find ourselves on.

The poverty line refers to the minimum amount of money set by the U.S. government as to what is required to meet the basic needs of a family. It is $19,971 for a family of four and $15,577 for a family of three. What is it like for a family to live on that amount of money? Using the average costs a family of four entails, once they pay for housing, utilities, transportation, food, health care, and child care, including all government benefit and assistance programs, that family would be $1601 short at the end of the year (see the breakdown or text-only). And yet a single parent with two children earning minimum wage only makes $10,712 before taxes working full-time. How are these families supposed to make ends meet? If you were trying to raise your children on $11,000 a year, what would you have to cut out in order to make sure they had food, shelter, clothing, etc.?

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well," but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it? So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. Indeed someone might say, "You have faith and I have works." Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.

James 2:14-18

So how can those of us who are more fortunate get involved? First of all, we need to educate ourselves on the issues. The Bishops' website is a good place to start. Another way to get involved is to advocate for systemic change by talking to our elected officials. Organizations like Catholic Charities USA or Network: A National Catholic Social Justice Lobby can help you do so. Local food pantries, meal programs, etc. also offer opportunities to make a difference. In the Milwaukee area, we have St. Vincent de Paul and St. Ben's, two phenomenal programs that are always looking for volunteers and donations. There are numerous other organizations to get involved with that are doing incredibly good things in our communities. If you are looking for ways to get involved, ask at your parish or arch/diocesan offices. The archdiocese of Milwaukee includes volunteer opportunities in the job listing section of their website. For other ideas, click here! We should also pray: for wisdom for those who set policy, for resources for those who care for the poor in our midst, and above all, for those who suffer in poverty, for theirs is the Kingdom of God.

This concludes our Catholic guilt/soapbox portion of the program (for now)! Thank you for all that you are already doing to make the world a little bit better each day!

January 7-13 is the 26th annual observance of National Migration Week for the US Catholic Church which culminates with the 93rd World Day of Migrants and Refugees in the Catholic Church. In his address for the occassion, Pope Benedict XVI reminds us of the plight of the Holy Family fleeing to Egypt, and notes that

in this misfortune experienced by the Family of Nazareth, obliged to take refuge in Egypt, we can catch a glimpse of the painful condition in which all migrants live, especially, refugees, exiles, evacuees, internally displaced persons, those who are persecuted. We can take a quick look at the difficulties that every migrant family lives through, the hardships and humiliations, the deprivation and fragility of millions and millions of migrants, refugees and internally displaced people. The Family of Nazareth reflects the image of God safeguarded in the heart of every human family, even if disfigured and weakened by emigration.

The theme for National Migration Week in the US Church is "Welcoming Christ in the Migrant." Bishop Gerald Barnes, the chairperson of the USCCB Committee on Migration, writes:

The theme for 2007 is Welcoming Christ in the Migrant, which is at once an invitation and a challenge to provide welcome for the migrants, immigrants, refugees, human trafficking victims, and other people on the move who come to our land seeking justice and peace. Our theme reminds us of Jesus' scriptural admonition to us: 'Lord, when did we see you a stranger ... and not minister to your needs?' He will answer them, 'Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.' (Mt. 25: 44-45) This reminder is particularly timely as our citizens and leaders grapple with the complexities and many dimensions of the migration experience. Our nation's legitimate security concerns have been distorted by some who would foment anxiety, fear, and a distrust of migrants. The present immigration reform debate has lost much of its reason and is often being fueled by raw emotions. Scriptures and Catholic Social Teaching call upon all of us to examine the issues and respond to the strangers among us as we would to Jesus Himself. The Holy Family found safety and new lives in Egypt during their time of great need. Many migrants today follow similar paths as they embark on their journey of hope. . . . Additionally, we encourage you to become informed and active in the Justice for Immigrants: A Journey of Hope campaign. More information about this Catholic immigration reform initiative can be found at www.justiceforimmigrants.org.

When we reach out to aid and comfort the newcomers to our land we are indeed offering ourselves and our gifts in service to the Lord. This is not only our Christian duty but a privilege, knowing that we too have been adopted into God's family. May you be richly blessed by your faithful acts of hospitality in Christ's name.

The Pontifical Council for the Pastoral Care of Migrants and Itinerant People explains that the Church recognizes people's right to migrate but does not encourage the practice due to the fact that the migrant often suffers in this process. At the same time, the Council notes that the suffering involved in migration is often the lesser evil for many people in desparate situations, and when people do migrate, the receiving country should recognize and welcome these "strangers" as the children of God that they are. The Council goes on to explain that

Migration today is practically an expression of the violation of the primary human right to live in one's own country. The origin of such a violation is found in wars, internal conflicts, the system of government, unequal distribution of economic resources, incoherent agricultural policy, irrational industrialization, widespread corruption. These situations are to be corrected through the promotion of balanced economic development, progrssively overcoming social inequalities, scrupulous respect for the human person and the proper functioning of democratic structures.It is necessary to carry out urgent corrective measures to the present economic and financial system, dominated and manipulated by the industrialized countries. These very same countries are presently threatening to annul even the right to emigrate, which has always been considered an alternative to the impossibility of living in one's own country.

The Council addresses the fact that we cannot deny people the right to immigrate without addressing the reasons they are leaving their own countries, stating that

the most evident consequence of such logic is an increase in the rate of illegal migration. This causes anxiety in destination countries, jeopardizing the context for integration. It is a dangerous involution, before which it is not improper to challenge the policy of the exclusion of immigrants, right at a time when the living conditions in developing countries are becoming more and more dramatic. Closing the doors to immigration without a commitment to remove its causes is a double injustice. Besides it is not ethically acceptable to reject the migrant worker as well as the product on which he invests his labor in his country of origin through exorbitant tariffs.Poverty, which is the generator of migration, requires an urgent solution. Progress is such only when it is transformed into development for all persons. This means sharing of goods and a more sober lifestyle on the part of rich countries.

As we attempt to deal with immigration issues in our own country, we must look to solutions that deal not simply with protecting our borders but rather address the root causes of why people are leaving their own countries in the first place. For more information on the positions and actions taken by the US Catholic Church on immigration issues, go to the USCCB website. For those who live in the Milwaukee area, there will be a "Justice for Immigrants Educational Forum" held at Gesu Parish on Tuesday, Feb. 6th. For more information on this forum, click here.

On a related note, January is also Poverty in America Awareness Month, but so as not to wear out your good nature, I will talk more about that next week!

Have a Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year!

Advent is a time of hopeful waiting. We wait with patience and expectation but also with joy and excitement. Children are great models of faith for Advent because of the exuberance with which they wait for Christmas. If you are with children on Christmas Eve and/or Christmas Day, really watch the way they wait for Santa to come. When was the last time in your life you were that excited about something? Children at Christmas are generally excited about the gifts they are or will be receiving. How excited are we about the numerous gifts we have been given?

Advent is a time of joy and excitement, but also patience (this part is a bit harder for adults as well as children). In a passage telling the reader to be patient, the letter of James says to "steady your hearts" (5:8). What a great image of patience - to steady one's heart. Our culture tends to be one of instant gratification, which seems to make patience even more difficult. I am a very impatient person, whether waiting in line at the store Christmas shopping or driving behind someone going slower than I would like to be driving. Naturally then in my prayer life, I tend to be impatient. I want things to happen now. God doesn't work that way (at least in my experience and occasionally to my frustration). Ideally, we would model our own patience after God's patience. The second letter of Peter tells us that God's patience is for our sake. When the early Christians were concerned that the second coming had not yet occurred, the letter reassures them:

In the Lord's eyes, one day is as a thousand years and a thousand years are as a day. The Lord does not delay in keeping his promise--though some consider it "delay". Rather, he shows you generous patience, since he wants none to perish but all to come to repentance. (2 Pt. 3:8-9)

While we wait for God, God is waiting for us.

We wait in hope. I have often thought that hope is a forgotten virtue. We talk about faith and love quite a bit, but we don't talk about hope very often. Today's world often seems so cynical and tired. Sometimes when facing just one more scandal in the Church or in the government, it is hard to find that glimmer of hope or even know exactly what it is we are hoping for. It is precisely for these reasons that I think hope is so needed today. We hope for a new day and a better world. The color of Advent is a blue purple, the color of the sky at dawn right before our world is lit up by sunlight. In our part of the world the days are at their shortest this time of the year, so many of you, like me, may begin your day in darkness and witness that purple blue sky while you wait for the light. We hear at this time of year the proclamation of Isaiah, that "the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light." (Is. 9:2) We read the prologue to the Gospel of John,

What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (Jn. 1:3-5)

When we live in darkness, our eyes become accustomed to the darkness. We accept evil and sin in our world because we have become blind to the alternatives. When the Gospel of Matthew talks about the end-times, Jesus warns that "because of the increase in evil, the love of many will become cold." (Mt. 24:12) We lack the imagination and love needed to come up with new and creative ways of addressing the problems in our world and our lives. Poverty and violence seem inevitable. When somebody suddenly turns on a bright light, the natural reaction is to flinch, cover your eyes, and turn away. And yet light is the only thing that dispels darkness. Darkness is the absence of light - it is overcome by light but cannot overcome light. Choosing light is not always the easier choice, but in the end it is the only choice. Advent is the time to face the darkness. We bring light to the world through our acts of love and kindness, through cultivating patience, joy, and excitement. Advent is a time when we choose hope over despair. In choosing to be an Advent people, a people of hope, we must heed the words of the first letter of Peter:

Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope. (1 Pt. 3:15)

Do people see you as a hope-filled person? If someone today asked you the reason for your hope, what would you say?

Christmas is the season where we pray for peace on earth and wish goodwill to all humankind, and so I have found myself increasing distressed at the divisive tone I heard in conversations about Christmas and our culture lately. I understand that many Christians are a bit mystified by the fact that people who do not believe in Christ celebrate Christmas, the feast of the Incarnation. Rather than seeing this fact as a negative one however, as if Christmas has somehow been hijacked from Christians, I believe it is a sign of all that Christmas is supposed to be - the celebration of God's presence in the world. What do non-Christians celebrate at Christmas? In my experience, most of them celebrate family and love. Christmas is the celebration of the incarnation of God's love on earth, and so wherever people gather together to celebrate love, they are celebrating Christmas. It does not detract from Christmas to have those who are not of the Christian faith celebrate the season with those of us who are; it simply affirms and witnesses to the miracle of God's love active and present in the world today. It celebrates Emmanuel, God with us.

We hear a lot about the commercialization and materialism of the Christmas season, and I do think there is a valid critique there about how we sometimes let the details distract us from what is really important, but I don't think we give people enough credit for truly appreciating the spirit of Christmas. I have always been struck by the magical spirit of Christmas. I like the fact that people smile at perfect strangers at this time of year because of a feeling of human fellowship. I like the fact that the city streets are decorated and lit up. If the lights are snowflakes and snowmen, or the trees are called holiday trees instead of Christmas trees, does it really make it any less special or beautiful? I think "Happy Holidays" is a beautiful greeting because it can encompass Christmas, New Year's, Hanukkah, Kwanza, and any other religious or cultural celebration found at this time of year. What a wonderful expression to foster peace on earth! The word "holiday" comes from "holy day", so I don't think there is any reason to take the word as some sort of slight to Christianity. If people send holiday cards with pictures of snowmen on them instead of a manger scene, I would hope that the recipients can just appreciate the beautiful, loving gesture someone made in sending a card instead judging the person as somehow selling out to secular culture.

I do think those of us who are Christians benefit from the reminder to "Keep Christ in Christmas." It is so easy to get stressed out at this time of year because of all that needs to get done that we forget to take time for our own spiritual lives. I do believe that those busy Christmas preparations, decorating the house, baking cookies, shopping for gifts, wrapping gifts, etc., can be part of our Advent preparation for Christmas, but I also think it is good to step back from all of that at times and think about what it is we prepare for - the coming of Christ into the world. I was reading a passage from St. Charles Borromeo earlier this week that spoke of Advent as a time of preparation for three comings of Christ: the historical coming of Christ, the second coming at the end of time, and the coming of Christ into each of our hearts. How do we prepare for that coming of Christ into our hearts? St. Charles says that we put obstacles in the way to Christ's coming into our hearts, and so the preparation of Advent is examine our hearts and remove any obstacles we find to Christ's dwelling there. When we think of keeping Christ in Christmas, we need to recall that Christ is not some theoretical idea or word. Keeping Christ in Christmas means being Christlike in our thoughts, words, and actions. We are the Body of Christ. Like Mary we are called to bear Christ in the world. When others encounter us, do they experience of God's incarnate love? My prayer this Christmas is that Christians around the world do keep Christ in Christmas by the way they touch the lives of others. My prayer this Christmas is for peace on earth and good will among ALL humankind!