Category Archives: Religion

Peter

Peter the Apostle, Cloisters, New York

Keep Peter in mind as we read the story of the conversion of Cornelius, the Roman centurion and his household. It was a decisive event for him and the other followers of Jesus. Peter was ministering to Jews in Joppa on the seacoast, when he’s called to Caesarea Maritime to baptize a Roman soldier. Joppa, remember, was the seaport where Jonah began his perilous journey to Nineveh and the gentile world.

In Joppa, the sleeping apostle on the roof of Simon the Tanner’s house overlooking the vast sea has a disturbing vision. Instead of the usual kosher food,  a gentile banquet is poured out before him. As a good Jew Peter pushes it away. Three times the vision invites him to eat.

Then, messengers appear at the door from Cornelius, a Roman soldier stationed in Caesaria Maritime, Rome’s headquarters just up the coast. Peter is to come and speak about “the things that had happened.” He’s invited to the gentile banquet he saw in his dream.

Peter made the journey up the coast and described their meeting: “As I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them as it had upon us at the beginning.” It was a Gentile Pentecost. Peter baptized the Roman soldier, his family and household. “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but every nation is acceptable to him,” 

Would Peter know then where this visit to Cornelius would lead? He was a fisherman who spoke Aramaic with a Galilean accent, who felt the pull of home, family and fishing boats. I doubt he would ever be comfortable in a gentile world. After Caesaria he traveled to Antioch in Syria and then finally to Rome where he was killed in the Neronian persecution in the 60’s.

Artists usually portray Peter in Rome as a church leader firmly in charge of the church, holding its keys tightly in hand. Clearly, he is a rock and a strong leader.

I saw another image of Peter years ago in the Cloisters Museum in New York. He’s softer, reflective, more experienced, not completely sure of himself. There’s a consciousness of failure in his face. He seems to be listening humbly for the voice of the Shepherd, hoping to hear it and ever surprised by the unexpected coming of the Holy Spirit.

The early Roman church directed those newly baptized in St. John Lateran at Easter to visit the Church of St. Peter on Vatican Hill on Easter Monday. There they were to remember Peter, who came to Rome from afar to preach the gospel. He was a faithful follower of Jesus and a shepherd of flock. He would help them know Jesus and follow humbly lead the flock wherever Jesus told him to lead it.

Bless our new Pope Leo, Lord.

Readings for the Fourth Week of Easter

This week’s readings from the Acts of the Apostles describe the growth of the church in the Gentile world. Peter journeys to Joppa, the seaport  Jonah embarked from on his mission to Nineveh. On his way he raises up a paralyzed man at Lydda and in Joppa  he raise a young girl, Tabitha, from the dead–signs similar to those Jesus worked.(Saturday, 3rd Week of Easter) 

Doubters, however, question Peter for baptizing the Roman soldier Cornelius and eating at table with him. (Monday) “God has given life-giving repentance to the Gentiles too,” Peter responds, initiating a new phase in the church’s growth. His response is based, not on human judgment, but because he has seen signs from the Spirit.

The readings from Acts from Wednesday to Saturday describe Barnabas and Saul’s opening campaign into the Gentile world. Let’s not ignore, though, the reading from Tuesday which recalls the unknown survivors of the persecution of Stephen who, driven into the Gentile world, “speak to the Greeks, proclaiming the Lord Jesus to them. The hand of the Lord was with them and a great number turned to the Lord.” Clearly, others besides those we know brought the gospel to the Gentiles.

We are all involved in bringing the gospel to the world,not just a chosen few,

In the  Gospel readings from John (Monday-Wednesday) Jesus continues to speak of himself as the Good Shepherd. As Risen Lord, he goes before us, guiding his flock to final pasture. We hear his voice, not the voice of a stranger. His voice is the same as the Father’s voice.

On Thursday, the readings from John bring us back to the supper room. (John 13 ff) For the remaining days of the Easter season, we will listen to Jesus’ words of encouragement and love for his own who are in this world.

The feast of St. Matthias, successor to Judas, celebrated on May 14. Our Lady of Fatima is celebrated on May 13. St. Gemma is celebrated May 16.

Morning and Evening Prayer for the 4th week here.

The Pope and the President

A week or so ago, President Trump and Pope Leo were in the news, engaged in the question of war. The news world erupted at the event, and the story dominated television newscasts, newspapers and online sources for days. 

I commented on it in this blog last week, but I have been waiting for more substantial coverage of  the story. I came upon this Youtube podcast from the London Review of Books and thought I would pass it on. 

The podcast is mostly about Pope Leo and the recent history of the Catholic Church. Our scripture readings these weeks of the Easter season, describing its early growth, emphasize the unexpected events, like the persecution of the Hellenists and the conversion of Paul, that bring changes to the church. 

The podcast participants see the pope and Catholic just war principle influenced by the Cold War threats of nuclear war in the 1960s and the Iran War today. As leaders of the church recent popes from John XXIII, to John Paul II, to Francis, to Leo respond to the the “signs of the time.”

Like shepherds, they respond to what the day brings.

The Spirit works that way. 

The Feast of St. Mark

Mark


April 25th is the Feast of St. Mark, author of one of the gospels. We may forget that real people wrote the gospels. The medieval portrait above shows the evangelist real enough as he adjusts his spectacles and pours over a book, surely his gospel. A lion looks up at him, the powerful voice of God.

He’s an old man, his eyes are going,  He has to be old if he’s a disciple of Peter, as tradition claims. (cf. 1 Peter 5:14)  Mark’s gospel appears shortly before or after the destruction of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in 70 AD. If he’s the author of the gospel, as it’s said,  he’s in his 70s at least.

He may have written his account in Rome, where he came with Peter, who calls Mark in his 1st Letter “my son.”  In 64 AD, Roman Christians  experienced a vicious persecution at the hands of the Emperor Nero. Peter and Paul died in that persecution. For years afterwards, Christian survivors were still asking themselves, no doubt, why it happened.

They say Mark wrote his gospel in answer to that dreadful experience. He would have heard Peter’s witness to Jesus many times; he knows his story.

Yet Mark was not just a stenographer repeating Peter’s eyewitness account; he’s adapted the apostle’s story, adding material and insights he had gathered on his own. For a long time Mark’s gospel was neglected by the church, thought to be simply a synopsis of Matthew’s gospel.  Today scholars admire it for its simplicity and masterful story telling. It’s the first gospel written and Matthew and Luke derive much of their material from it.

I like the wonderful commentary: The Gospel of Mark, in the Sacra Pagina series from Liturgical Press, by John Donohue,SJ and Daniel Harrington, SJ (Collegeville, Min. 2002). A great guide to this gospel and its rich message. We read Mark in the lectionary from the Feast of Baptism of Jesus up to Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent.

Mark’s Gospel offers a unique wisdom. It does not flinch before the mystery of suffering and does not try to explain it away. There’s a darkness about this gospel that makes it applicable to times like ours. We’re disciples of Jesus who must follow him, no matter what.

Our gospel for the feast is the final commission Jesus gives to his disciples, according to Mark.
“Go into the whole world
and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.
Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved;
whoever does not believe will be condemned.
These signs will accompany those who believe:
in my name they will drive out demons,
they will speak new languages.
They will pick up serpents with their hands,
and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not harm them.
They will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.”

Like Jesus, his disciples will drive out demons and speak new languages. They’ll pick up serpents and drink poison, yet be unharmed. They will even believe, without understanding everything. In answer to Jesus’ command, tradition says Mark went to Egypt and founded the church in Alexandria.

Father,
You gave St. Mark the privilege of proclaiming your gospel. May we profit by his wisdom and follow Christ more faithfully. Grant this, through Christ, your Son.

Conversion of Paul of Tarsus

St. Paul the Apostle Wikipedia commons.

Today our reading from Acts of the Apostles recalls an historic conversion.

“Saul, still breathing murderous threats against the disciples of the Lord,
went to the high priest and asked him
for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, that,
if he should find any men or women who belonged to the Way,
he might bring them back to Jerusalem in chains.
On his journey, as he was nearing Damascus,
a light from the sky suddenly flashed around him.
He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him,
“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”
He said, “Who are you, sir?”
The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.
Now get up and go into the city and you will be told what you must do.” (Acts 9)

The statue of Paul at the entrance to the ancient  church of St. Paul Outside the Walls in Rome is one of my favorites. Paul’s portrayed as an old man, clothed in a heavy traveler’s cloak, bent and tired from coming a long way. He holds a great sword firmly in hand, but he’s not a military man. It’s the sword of faith he’s holding, a symbol of the faith that won hearts and banished darkness. 

He has “fought the good fight” and “kept the faith;” his earthly journey’s ended. Pictures on the church doors recall his final hours, when Paul died decapitated by an executioner’s sword not far from this spot, after a period of imprisonment in Rome.  

Did he review his own life then? I’m sure Paul wondered at the mystery of it all, especially the time a blinding light threw him from his horse on the way to Damascus, and then those hard journeys to towns and cities where he labored hard to bring faith in Jesus to so many. I don’t think he spent much time fighting old battles, though. Like those he had with the rival teachers who invaded his turf in Corinth.

When it’s all said and done, it’s not our judgment that counts at the end.  It’s God’s judgment that counts. 

Looking higher up on the façade of that great church that bears the apostle’s remains, we can see Paul the Apostle, pictured in the light of glory, his traveling days done. With Peter, a fellow disciple, he sits at the feet of Jesus Christ, the Risen Lord whom he loved so much. “Who are you, Lord?” Paul once cried, thrown to the ground. Now he knows,  granted the grace, unmerited like all others, to see Jesus face to face. 

The Conversion of Paul

National Gallery, 15th century, Style of Ambrogio Bergognone

In this week’s readings from Acts of the Apostles, the death of Stephen and the persecution of the Greek-speaking Jewish Christians result in the church’s growth beyond Jerusalem. Philip the deacon and others bring the neighboring Samaritans to the faith and send off the Ethiopian eunuch to Africa with the good news. Peter reaches out to the Roman centurion Cornelius and baptizes him and his household.

For Luke, however, the conversion of Paul, recalled in today’s readings, is more important than any of these events. Paul will be the one he uses to tell how the gospel spread to the ends of the earth. He recalls Paul’s conversion three times in the Acts of the Apostles, indicating Paul’s importance in bringing God’s word to the Gentiles.

Jesus himself appears to Paul and speaks to him “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” All three accounts in Acts insist that Paul is divinely chosen for his mission by the Risen Jesus.

Paul also shows us our capabilities, how far we can rise, from the depths to the heights. That’s why the church recalls his conversion a number of times in the church year. As he himself acknowledges, he rose from being a persecutor of the church to became a powerful force for its growth in the world through God’s grace.

St. John Chrysostom says of him: 

“Paul, more than anyone else, has shown us what we really are, and in what our nobility consists, and of what virtue a human being is capable. Each day he aimed ever higher; each day he rose up with greater ardour and faced with new eagerness the dangers that threatened him. He summed up his attitude in the words: I forget what is behind me and push on to what lies ahead. When he saw death imminent, he bade others share his joy: Rejoice and be glad with me! And when danger, injustice and abuse threatened, he said: I am content with weakness, mistreatment and persecution. These he called the weapons of righteousness, thus telling us that he derived immense profit from them…The most important thing of all to him, however, was that he knew himself to be loved by Christ.”

Paul’s letters were circulated and read among the early Christian churches for their spirituality and their teaching. In the early Roman church, those newly baptized in the church of St. John Lateran at Easter were told to visit the church of St. Paul outside the walls on the Tuesday after their baptism and constantly seek his wisdom and guidance.

May we still seek Paul’s wisdom and may God raise up the Paul in us.

We Seek Your Face, O Lord

Here’s St. Anselm, who sees himself a “little man” seeking God:

“Little man, rise up! Flee your preoccupations for a little while. Hide yourself for a time from your turbulent thoughts. Cast aside, now, your heavy responsibilities and put off your burdensome business. Make a little space free for God; and rest for a little time in him.

Enter the inner chamber of your mind; shut out all thoughts. Keep only thought of God, and thoughts that can aid you in seeking him. Close your door and seek him. Speak now, my whole heart! Speak now to God, saying, I seek your face; your face, Lord, will I seek.

And come you now, O Lord my God, teach my heart where and how it may seek you, where and how it may find you.

Lord, if you are not here, where shall I seek ? If you are everywhere, why do I not see you here? Yes, you dwell in unapproachable light. But where is unapproachable light, or how shall I come to it? Or who shall lead me to that light and into it, that I may see you in it? Again, by what signs, under what form, shall I seek you? I have never seen you, O Lord, my God; I do not know your face.

What, O most high Lord, shall this man do, an exile far from you? What shall your servant do, anxious in his love of you, and cast out far from your presence? He is breathless with desire to see you, and your face is too far from him. He longs to come to you, and your dwelling-place is inaccessible. He is eager to find you, but does not know where. He desires to seek you, and does not know your face.

Lord, you are my God, and you are my Lord, and never have I seen you. You have made me and renewed me, you have given me all the good things that I have, and I have not yet met you. I was created to see you, and I have not yet done the thing for which I was made.”

The Ethiopian Eunuch

Philip eunuch

Readings
Rembrandt’s biblical subjects are always interesting. As a child he used to sit with his mother while she prayed and look at the illustrations in her prayerbook. All his life the painter was attracted to the bible. Even without a commission, he’d sketch a biblical story that caught his eye.

Here’s the Ethiopian eunuch–our reading from Acts for today– kneeling and looking intently at the stream of water, waiting to be baptized by Philip the deacon. He’s been profoundly moved by the story he’s been told.

His servant stands behind him holding his rich outer garments. He’s the queen’s treasurer, don’t forget, but something greater awaits him now.  An imposing guard on horseback, armed to the teeth, maybe an Ethiopian security agent, looks on. The rest of his retinue stand back, maybe puzzled by it all and anxious to get on their way on the long trip home from Jerusalem.

Like Zacchaeus — another rich man Luke recalls — the Ethiopian sees something greater than riches in Jesus and the water promising life.

Though visibly absent, the Holy Spirit who orchestrated this scene is here too. .

How does it all turn out, we wonder? When they get home, does the eunuch get sacked because the security agent turns him in for foolish behavior? Does the servant who watched the baptism become a follower of Jesus too? Did the eunuch tell the Queen the story of Jesus? Did he ever get back to Jerusalem again?

Luke is a wonderful story-teller. In his day Ethiopia was the end of the world, and so the gospel reaches there. In this account, he invites us to think about another path taken in the spread of the gospel.  Luke is a wonderful story-teller, and Rembrandt is too.

Learning from Plants, Trees and Flowers

I discovered on Google books an old study of plants and trees by Richard Folkard, an English botanist. (Plant Lore, Legends and Lyrics, London 1884)  It’s a treasure of information.

Folkard says that from earliest times people saw religious meaning in plants, flowers and trees. He writes especially about how they were seen in medieval times.

“In the dark ages the Catholic monks , who cultivated with assiduity all sorts of herbs and flowers in their monastic gardens , came in time to associate them with traditions of the Church , and to look upon them as emblems of particular saints . Aware , also , of the innate love of humanity for flowers , they selected the most popular as symbols of the Church festivals , and in time every flower became connected with some saint of the Calendar , either from flowering at the time of the saint’s day , or from being connected with the saint in some old legend…

But it was more especially upon the Virgin Mary that the early Church bestowed their floral symbolism … The poetry no less than the piety of Europe has inscribed to her the whole bloom and colouring of the fields and hedges.  The choicest flowers were wrested from the classic Juno , Venus , and Diana , and from the Scandinavian Bertha and Freyja , and bestowed upon the Madonna , whilst floral offerings of every sort were laid upon her shrines . 

Her husband , Joseph , has allotted to him a white Campanula , which in Bologna is known as the little Staff of St. Joseph . In Tuscany the name of St. Joseph’s staff is given to the Oleander. A  legend recounts that the good Joseph possessed originally only an ordinary staff , but that when the angel announced to him that he was destined to be the husband of the Virgin Mary , he became so radiant with joy , that his very staff flowered in his hand…

A Catholic writer complained that at the Reformation the very names of plants were changed in order to divert men’s minds from the least recollection of ancient Christian piety A  Protestant writer of the last century , bewailing the ruthless action of the Puritans in giving to the ” Queen of Beauty ” flowers named after the ” Queen of Heaven , ” says :’Botany , which in ancient times was full of the Blessed Virgin Mary , is now as full of the heathen Venus .’ ” 

Folkard reminds us that the monks were good catechists. That work of theirs is largely ignored today. If you consult Wikipedia’s listings of trees and plants, there’s  hardly a trace of that Catholic tradition. I wonder if we shouldn’t mine that tradition again as we try to enhance our care of the earth. Clover .spearmint, foxglove, lupine,  campanula, marigolds, cowslip, Lady’s mantel, Lady’s bedstraw are more than a genus and species. They once spoke of the mysteries of God. 

Can we learn from them again?