Act of Contrition

Here’s an abbreviated  version of Psalm 51, a prayer for God’s mercy, that we reflected on in our previous blog.

The illustration for the psalm was done by Brother Robert McKenna, a Passionist brother who died recently. Brother Robert spent many years as a missionary in the Philippines. He was an excellent artist and illustrator.

The hand is the hand of God, of course. That metaphor is applied to God frequently in the bible and especially in the psalms. Here God reaches his hand out to recreate us. His hand is the hand of Mercy, giving us life. He blesses us.

The cross in the illustration is a sign of God’s love for us. Psalm 51 is the original Act of Contrition. A beautiful prayer for Fridays and for all days.

Psalm 51: Have Mercy on Me, O God

Every Friday Psalm 51 is the Church’s morning prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours. “Have mercy on me, O God, in your kindness. In your compassion wipe out my offense.” It’s one of the most important prayers we say.  It’s an appeal to God for mercy, that we might know our sinfulness and that God heal us.

Unfortunately, we become blind to our own sins and see the faults of others rather than our own, St. Augustine says in his commentary on this psalm. There’s evil in life, so if it’s not in us it must be out there in others. 

King David, who is closely associated with this psalm, was quick to see the man the Prophet Nathan described to him as worthy of death. He didn’t see he was the guilty one.

Psalm 51 reminds us we’re sinners and we should know our sins and not forget them. “My offenses truly I know them, and my sin is always before me.” 

Only God can bring us knowledge of our sins, our psalm says. We can’t know ourselves and our sins completely on our own, however honest and thorough we may try to be. Only God brings us knowledge of ourselves. 

Notice there is no list of sins for us to check out in this psalm.  Rather than listing sins, the psalm praises God for a love that restores us to his friendship. “You love truth in the heart, then in the secret of my heart teach me wisdom.”

We ask God to create a pure heart and a steadfast spirit in us, to wash us and sprinkle us with hyssop that we may be clean. St. Augustine says that hyssop is a plant that clings to rocks; it knows hard places, like the human heart. 

We ask for a ‘spirit of joy”, a “spirit of fervor” that God renews us, and a resolve to do what we’re called to do in this life. Like the Prodigal Son this psalm ends in a feast of joy.

Furthermore, our plea for God’s mercy is not just for ourselves . The walls of Jerusalem, the world around us, are waiting to be rebuilt and we’re asking God to rebuild them. Our own conversion contributes to the conversion of our world.

Take a look at the church’s morning and evening prayers here

Our Conversion

“On that journey as I drew near to Damascus,
about noon a great light from the sky suddenly shone around me.
I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me,
‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?’
I replied, ‘Who are you, sir?’
And he said to me,
‘I am Jesus the Nazorean whom you are persecuting.’
My companions saw the light
but did not hear the voice of the one who spoke to me.
I asked, ‘What shall I do, sir?’
The Lord answered me, ‘Get up and go into Damascus,
and there you will be told about everything
appointed for you to do.’
Since I could see nothing because of the brightness of that light,
I was led by hand by my companions and entered Damascus.”  Acts 22:8-16

the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul falls on a Sunday this year, so it won’t be celebrated. Still, we have to keep it in mind. If the above account is our only view of conversion we may think conversion is some great light from the sky and a voice from heaven knocking us to the ground. Conversion doesn’t happen ordinarily that way. The longer reading of Paul’s conversion for our feast ( Acts 9: 1-22) describes conversion more fully, I think.

St. Francis de Sales, whose feast we celebrate January 24th, probably describes best how God works to convert us- in ordinary ways. God works with us as he works in creation, day by day, morning and night. The farmer in the parables of Jesus hardly notices or understands what’s happening, and we’re like him. Conversion happens through a life time.

We may also think of conversion as a personal gift – God making us better people. But conversion goes beyond changing us, it’ calls us to change the world beyond us. The Feast of Paul’s conversion is followed by the feast of two of his disciples, Timothy and Titus, who continued Paul’s mission in a new way. They were given charge of the churches of Ephesus and Crete. Paul’s conversion was more than a personal gift. He had a mission to the church and to the world.   

Conversion is not a one time grace. In our antiphons for his feast, Paul himself acknowledges his need for the daily grace of God that strengthens him and helps him meets challenges he never expected. 

Conversion is not limited to people either. Pope John XXIII called for the Second Vatican Council on the Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, January 25, 1959. He saw the council as a converting grace for the church and a contribution to the conversion of the world. 

As an event of conversion, the council is not just a shining moment of a few years, but continual event that gives grace in the years and centuries ahead.  

Finally, notice the place of the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist in the longer account as he is instructed by Ananias: ” Immediately things like scales fell from his eyes and he regained his sight. He got up and was baptized, and when he had eaten, he recovered his strength.

We receive converting grace through sacraments.

Praying in the Liturgy

The Second Vatican Council strongly affirmed  the liturgy as the primary prayer of the church. Instead of devotional or other prayer forms,  the council affirmed that the liturgy is the primary place where we grow in our faith. (Lex orandi, lex credendi)

Pope Leo recently spoke about the primacy of liturgical and community prayer in his first catechesis on the Second Vatican Council. When we pray in the liturgy “ we do not decide what to hear from the Word of God, but God Himself speaks to us through the Church.”

Affirming the primacy of liturgical prayer doesn’t mean we have to give up devotions or prayer forms that we find helpful. It means we make the the liturgy the main prayer  where God speaks to us, where we face the questions of the day and where we become aware of the signs of the time. 

The liturgy is not as orderly as a course in theology or as simple as devotional prayer might be.  It’s challenging in its complexity. This week, for example, we’re reading from the 1st Book of Samuel, a summary of Jewish history and a work of  narrative theology that poses some tough questions.  We are reading from St. Mark’s Gospel, a sophisticated presentation of the ministry of Jesus Christ, commentators point out. 

This week is also when we pray for Christian unity; we’re asked to pray for and reflect on the unification of the Christian churches.  Thursday is a Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children. We celebrate the feasts of St. Agnes, St. Francis de Sales and St. Sebastian this week. 

There’s a lot going on in our liturgy. Too much to take in, we might say, and turn to another way of prayer,  or not pray at all.

Liturgy is described as a work.  It’s a work of the church and it can be hard work.

We need the guidance of the Holy Spirt to find the treasure in this field. As Pope Leo says, “we do not decide what to hear from the Word of God, but God himself speaks to us through the Church,”

One of the most important missions of my community, the Passionists, in the church is to be teachers of prayer. “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.” We are called to teach people how to listen.

This blog tries to do that. 

St. Agnes, January 21st.

Church of St. Agnes, Rome

Church of St. Agnes, Via Nomentana. Rome

Agnes, a popular Roman woman martyr of the 3rd century, ranks high among the seven women mentioned in the First Eucharistic Prayer. “Agnes, Cecilia, Anastasia…”

That prayer goes back to St. Gregory the Great in the 6th century. Some say his mother and aunt may have promoted the women, all strong women who died for their belief. They come from all parts of the church of their time. Felicity and Perpetual are from North Africa, Agatha and Lucy from Sicily, Agnes and Cecilia from Rome, Anastasia originally from Greece.

Details of the story of Agnes, from 5th century sources, may be questioned, but the essential facts about her are true.

St. Agnes, Via Nomentana

A young Roman girl of 13 or so,  Agnes was put to death because she rejected the offer of a highly placed Roman man to become his bride. Incensed, he tried to force Agnes to change her mind; eventually she died for continuing to refuse him.

Women were expected to marry young in those days, to marry men chosen for them, and to have two or three children. They were to produce children for Rome, especially soldiers needed for the empire’s many wars.

Agnes’ refusal then to marry one of Rome’s elite was a dangerous decision. With no support from family or friends, alone in a male-dominated society, at a time suspicious of Christians and their beliefs, the little girl sought strength in Jesus Christ. She was a martyr put to death for her faith.

The Golden Legend, a favorite saint book  from the Middle Ages, says that Agnes was true to her name. She was a lamb (Agnus) who followed the Good Shepherd. Though young, she followed truth, never turning away from it. God gave her strength beyond what’s expected for her years.

The story says they put Agnes among the prostitutes found near the racecourse then on the Piazza Navona in Rome. God warded off those who tried to rape her. A church in her honor stands today in the busy piazza; another church over her grave is on the Via Nomentana in Rome. (above)

They finally killed her with a knife to her throat. Heavenly signs surrounded Agnes even then, her story says, assuring her that her faith was not in vain. The One she loved was with her as she struggled.

 

Agnes, the prayer for her feast says, is an example of how God chooses “what is weak in this world to confound the strong.” The young girl was stronger than her powerful killers.  “May we follow her constancy in the faith, through our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.”

Martyrdom of Agnes

The Soldier Saints: Saint Sebastian

January 20th is the feast of Saint Sebastian, a young Christian from Milan who joined the Roman army in the 4th century as foreign armies began attacking Rome’s frontiers. Like others, he entered military service to save his country from invaders.

A good soldier, Sebastian rose quickly in the ranks. Diocletian, Rome’s finest general and then its unchallenged emperor, appreciated able, brave men. Above all, he wanted loyalty; Sebastian seemed to be everything he wanted.

Yet, he was a Christian. No one knows why, but the emperor, on good terms with Christians early on in his career, suddenly turned against them. In 301 he began purging his army, ordering Christian officers demoted and Christian soldiers dishonorably discharged. The emperor lost trust in them.

Then, Diocletian began persecuting the entire Christian population of the empire. It’s not known how many Christians were killed or imprisoned or forced into hard labor in the mines; it was so ferocious it was called the “Great Persecution.”

As the persecution was going on, sources place Sebastian, not yet dismissed from the army,  in Rome, then under the jurisdiction of Diocletian’s co-emperor Maximian. Here he faced the dangerous situation that caused his death.

Christians were being arrested and imprisoned, and Sebastian was among the soldiers arresting and guarding them. Rather than doing a soldier’s job,  Sebastian did what a Christian should do: he saw those imprisoned as Christ in chains. The whispered words, the small kindnesses, the human face he showed to those in the harsh grip of Roman justice was his answer to the call of Jesus: “I was a prisoner, and you visited me.”

How long he aided  prisoners we don’t know, but someone informed on him. The rest of his story– a favorite of artists through the centuries– says that Sebastian was ordered shot through with arrows by expert archers who pierced all the non-fatal parts of his body so that he would die slowly and painfully from loss of blood.

He was left for dead, but he didn’t die. Instead, he was nursed back to health by a Christian woman named Irene and, once recovered, went before the authorities to denounce their treatment of Christians.

They immediately had him beaten to death.

He was buried by a Christian woman, Lucina, in her family’ crypt along the Appian Way, where an ancient basilica and catacombs now bear the soldier saint’s name. You can visit that holy place today.

The early church revered soldier saints like Sebastian because they helped people in danger, even giving up their lives to do it. They used their strength for others. When soldiers asked John the Baptist what they should do, he answered simply “Don’t bully people.”  The temptation of the strong is to bully the weak.

The soldier saints did more than not dominate or bully others, however; they reached out to those in the grip of the powerful. Sebastian’s great virtue was not that he endured a hail of arrows, but that he cared for frightened, chained men and women in a Roman jail–a hellish place.

Soldier saints like Sebastian recall a kind of holiness we may forget these days. They remind us that it’s a holy task to stand in harm’s way on dangerous city streets, in unpopular wars and trouble-spots throughout the world so that others can be safe. It’s holy, but dangerous, to confront injustice and corruption in powerful political or social systems and take the side of the weak.

Christianity is not a religion that shies away from evil and injustice. Like Jesus, a Christians must not be afraid to take a stand against them. Christians in the military are not bound to follow unjust commands. We pray to the Lord, then, for more soldier saints.

Magdala: “a nearby village”:Mark 1:33-36

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After a tumultuous first day of ministry in Capernaum, Jesus left the following day for other places in Galilee, Mark’s Gospel says.

“Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed. Simon and those who were with him pursued him and on finding him said, ‘Everyone is looking for you.’ He told them, ‘Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come.’ So he went into their synagogues, preaching and driving out demons throughout the whole of Galilee.” (Mark 1,36-39)

Was one of the nearby villages Magdala?

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Magdala, or Migdal, a prosperous Jewish port city in the first century. was just five miles south of Capernaum on the south-western part of the Sea of Galilee. Some of the city has been uncovered recently by archeologists and the discovery opens another window into the gospel story.

Magdala’s economy was built on fishing and, in fact, it was the center of a highly developed industry on the Sea of Galilee in Jesus’ day. Written sources have it that salted fish from Magdala was sold in the surrounding areas and even as far as Rome;  recent findings offer a further look at Magdala’s economy and its sophisticated techniques for storing and preparing fish for market. As a flourishing Jewish center on the Sea of Galilee, it was an obvious place for Jesus to visit.

The Jewish historian Josephus may be exaggerating when he says there were 40,000 people in Magdala, but certainly it had a good-sized, prosperous population in the time of Jesus. Christians recognize it as the home of Mary Magdalen.

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New excavations in Magdala and also in Bethsaida on the northern tip of the Sea of Galilee help us understand the world of Jesus and what he did there. For example, there are two newly excavated synagogues at Magdala from his time.  Did he stand in a place like this and teach and cure? Probably.

The recent findings also invite us to look again at Jesus’ disciples. What kind of people were Peter, Andrew, James and John, and the other Galilean fishermen whom Jesus called to follow him? They’re often described as “poor” “ignorant” fishermen, tagging along, open-mouthed, before the wonders Jesus worked and the words he spoke.

But Galilean fishermen seem more resourceful and knowledgeable than that. They knew the world around the Sea of Galilee. That world  was more complex than we might think.  On its western shore were mostly Jewish communities; on its eastern shores were the gentile cities of the Decapolis.

Jesus goes first to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, but then he crosses over to gentile world. Who takes him to this different world but savvy fishermen who know the places and the peoples around the sea?

They were certainly not ignorant. At one point in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus tells Peter that he’s thinking like a human being, trying to dissuade him from going to Jerusalem to face suffering and death. In fact, Peter and the rest were quite good at human thinking, quite confident in their own opinions and thoughts. In the gospel Jesus constantly challenges their “human thinking” with the thinking of God. .

Mary Magdalene

Where did he meet them? Mark’s gospel says it was along the Sea of Galilee. A mosaic of the call of the disciples in the new center at Magdala suggests it may have happened here. Another mosaic suggests that the raising of the daughter of Jairus, the ruler of the synagogue, may also have taken place here.

Speculation, maybe.  It’s a good guess that Jesus met  Mary Magdalene here and released her from the seven devils  that messed up her life. She became a disciple.

Mark’s gospel doesn’t limit the followers of Jesus to twelve. He only mentions the twelve once in his gospel. In Mark’s and Luke’s gospels, a wide range of people become followers of Jesus, from the fishermen of Galilee, tax-collectors like Matthew, to women like Mary Magdalene and Johanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Cusa. Women were with  the twelve, Luke’s gospel says:

“Accompanying him were the Twelve and some women who had been cured of evil spirits and infirmities, Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out, Joanna, the wife of Herod’s steward Chuza, Susanna, and many others who provided for them out of their resources.” (Luke 8,1-3)

Herod Antipas’ capitol, Tiberias, was only a few miles from Magdala.

Like so many ancient cities, Magdala had its good days and days of decline. It was probably destroyed during the Jewish revolt in 68 AD. Only a few places in the city were left standing when the Crusaders arrived in the 12th century, then it disappeared in the earth.

The Legionaires of Christ bought the property along the Sea of Galilee in 2004 intending  to build a 300 room hotel on the site, but in preparing the building site they uncovered the ruins of ancient Magdala. Construction stopped and the archeologists stepped in.

“For the Rev. Juan M. Solana, it was the spiritual equivalent of striking oil,” a New York Times article from May 14, 2024 said. “When he set out to develop a resort for Christian pilgrims in Galilee, he unearthed a holy site: the presumed hometown of Mary Magdalene and an ancient synagogue where experts say Jesus may well have taught.”

Lectionary and Saints

Our daily liturgy gives us scriptures to read and saints to celebrate. This week in our lectionary we continue to read from the Gospel of Mark and the 1st Book of Samuel. Today we remember Fabian, an early pope and  martyr, and Sebastian, a soldier saint and martyr.  Tomorrow we have Agnes, a young girl and early martyr. 

Our lectionary readings are not chosen haphazardly. After the feast of the Baptism we began reading each day from the Gospel of Mark, the first of the gospels to be written, an appropriate reading for following Jesus as he begins his ministry in Galilee. 

The saints point out how others have followed him. . The three martyrs we remember this week are examples of some who were put to death in persecutions that took place in the early church. Fabian was put to death at the beginning of the Decian persecution (250) because he was a church leader. The Roman strategy was to kill church leaders and their followers would scatter. 

Sebastian was a soldier saint martyred in the Diocletian persecution. From what we know, Christians were highly regard by the emperor when he first came to power, but then he turned against them,  especially the officer class. Like Sebastian, many of them holding influential positions in the empire were put to death for their supposed disloyalty. 

Agnes was not killed in a general persecution like Fabian and Sebastian.  She died because Christians were legally vulnerable in the centuries before Constantine. The Romans were suspicious of them. Agnes a victim of a powerful Roman man who used the Roman judicial system to punish a young Christian girl who  would not let him have his way with her. 

   

Praying for Christian Unity

We celebrate a Week of Prayer for Christian Unity every year from the 18th to the 25th of January.

Pope Francis, speaking about ecumenism, said that like the Magi, whom tradition represents as representatives of diverse cultures and peoples, Christians today are “challenged to take our brothers and sisters by the hand… and move forward together.”

Some of the journey together is easier than others, the pope noted, like works of charity together, for example. which draw us closer not only to the poor but to one another.

On the other hand, the journey toward full unity is sometimes more difficult, which “can lead to a certain weariness and temptation to discouragement.

Pope Leo has taken up the same cause dear to Pope Francis. He has called all the Christian churches to celebrate the anniversary of the foundation of Christianity in Jerusalem in the year 2033.

The restoration of unity among all Christians is one of the principal concerns of the Second Vatican Council.” (Decree on Ecumenism n.1). Ecumenism affects the mission of the church, because the division of Christians prevents the preaching of the gospel and deprives many people of access to the faith” (Ad Gentes, n. 6). Divisions among Christians cause a confusion that hinders people from accepting the gospel today.

Passionist Father Ignatius Spencer, an early pioneer in ecumenical activity, strongly urged more prayer together. Might be a good idea to consider . How can we do it? How can we prepare for the year 2033?

Why? : Mark 2:18-22

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Many flocked to Jesus as his ministry began, but a growing number found him hard to understand. That’s what Mark’s Gospel indicates in our lectionary readings this week.

Scribes from Jerusalem say he has a demon, the Pharisees begin to plot with the Herodians, the followers of Herod Antipas, about putting him to death. (Wednesday) When they hear about him in Nazareth, his relatives say, “No, he doesn’t have a demon. He may be out of his mind,” They come to bring him home. (Saturday. 2nd week)

Besides leaders and people from his hometown, ordinary people begin to distance themselves too. They may be people we hear in Mark’s Gospel, (Monday) who question him “Why do the disciples of John and the disciples of the Pharisees fast, but your disciples do not fast?” (Mark 2, 18-22) Jewish leaders, his own family and ordinary people of Galilee found his message, especially his message of the Cross, hard to understand.

They weren’t ready for new wine, they preferred the old. Nor were they ready for the death he would meet.

Commentators see Mark’s gospel as a Passion Narrative with a prelude. Mark’s early stories predict the Passion of Jesus who will die alone, forsaken by many who flocked to him at first. Forsaken even by his friends.

The Passion of Jesus is a mystery beyond human understanding, Mark’s gospel teaches. Mark wrote his gospel, commentators say, to help the Christians of Rome caught in an unexpected, brutal persecution by Nero in the mid 60s.. A senseless, arbitrary persecution left Rome’s Christians confused and wondering what it all meant. Many abandoned their faith or, like the three small figures in our illustration above, seem lost before the one hanging before them. They were shocked by the tragic suffering they did not see coming. Why? They couldn’t understand.

It was so before you, Mark teaches the Romans then. It was so before you, Mark teaches us today.