THE PROPHETS GIVE VOICE TO GOD’S SUFFERING

In the weekly meetings of our Cornerstone Catholic Scripture Study group in Florida, we have spent the past 20 weeks reading the Prophets. We have studied the recurring cycle in Israel’s life with God: God makes a Covenant with Israel, Israel rebels, the prophets indict and warn, Israel continues to rebel, God reluctantly punishes, Israel repents, God forgives and renews the covenant.

The first Isaiah (ch 1-39) repeats the indictment and warning of punishment, and the hope of forgiveness, in terms consistent with the Prophets before and after him.

A century or more later, the second Isaiah adds a new element: the Suffering Servant, the anointed one (Messiah) that the Lord will send to reform and save Israel.  Earlier anointed ones were kings (David and Solomon).  But Isaiah’s Messiah is not a king but a servant, not conquering but suffering.

52:3 He was despised and rejected by others;
    a man of suffering[a] and acquainted with grief;

    he was despised, and we did not esteem him.

Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
  But he was wounded for our transgressions,
    crushed for our iniquities;
  upon him was the punishment that made us whole,
    and by his bruises we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have all turned to our own way,
  and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
    yet he did not open his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter

This new element, the Suffering Servant, was so radical, so revolutionary, that other later prophets do not pick up on this element in Isaiah.  Not one of the prophets who wrote in the century and a half after Isaiah speaks of it. God apparently chose not to repeat it.

And then the line of Prophets ends abruptly after Malachi.  Why?  Four centuries of silence follow, until John the Baptist announces and Jesus fulfills the prophecies.

What happens during this four-century silence, this gap, this hiatus? Does the Cycle continue?  Sin and rebellion certainly do, but prophetic warning does not.  Why not?

Perhaps it is because the prophecies had become written scripture, incorporated into their liturgy, regularly taught to every Jewish generation. Sending another Prophet to repeat the message yet again might seem redundant. 

Or maybe it was simply too radical a message for Israel to understand at the time.  God knew they were not ready to give up their hope of an earthly, political rebirth of Israel as an earthly political kingdom under another David. 

But the Jews were even then being taught the one painful lesson that goes with Hope: Patience.  They were learning to wait patiently for a deliverer, a King-Messiah, no matter how long it took.

On a personal note, I had many hurdles to surmount before I could join the Church.  Mainly, of course, there was my sinful nature, especially pride.  But there was also what can be called the Jewish Problem.  My mother’s family were Jews (non-observant).  And they and I felt very strongly the thread of anti-Semitism that had run through Church history.  From early times, many in the Church had blamed the Jews as a people for having condemned Jesus, and that had been the major factor in creating the racist scourge that is anti-Semitism.  The term “Christ-killer” came from the earliest days of the Church. Of course, some of the Temple leaders and their followers were indeed guilty of Jesus’ death.  But not all Jews in Jerusalem that day were involved, and certainly none of the ones born later.  Yet all Jews throughout the ages since have felt the sting of Jew-hatred on the part of Christians (and the non-Christians to whom it quickly spread). 

It is true that many or most Jews did not accept Jesus as Messiah or convert to Christianity, in the Apostle’s time or since.  But it must be recognized that there was a stumbling block in the road for them (as St. Paul put it): they were expecting a King-Messiah, not a humble village preacher-healer.  They had so learned the lesson of patience that they would not (or could not) give it up. Many are still waiting for the Messiah today.  And an added stumbling block was set in their road by misguided voices in the Church: anti-Semitism.

I was led past this stumbling block by wise Catholics who showed me how various saints, and especially St. John Paul II, had reached out across this divide, embracing our “Elder Brothers in the Faith”. That did it for me.   I could join a Church that could still move forward to correct past mistakes.  (I am often reminded of the clever convert’s answer to the question “But why the Catholics?” He answered that “the Catholic Church is for saints and sinners only; righteous folks are welcome at any of the Protestant chapels down the street”.)

And I marveled at the unlimited patience of the priests (as well as a Jewish deacon) who brought me along the path I walked, patience that was undoubtedly tested but undiminished in the several-year course of my questions, doubts, objections and hesitations.  As I’m often forced to admit, I am a very slow learner. In the words of the Cornerstone prayer, “Thank you, Lord, for the grace that has led me to this moment.”     

But, back to the post-prophetic gap after Malachi:  What we know of Israel’s history during this period is largely political. The Assyrian-Babylonian-Persian imperial rule is succeeded by Greek rule, under Alexander the Great and his successor regime, the Seleucids. These Greeks introduce much of their culture, but it is not until the second-century, when a Seleucid king tries to invade the Temple, that Israel revolts; the Maccabees rule a semi-independent kingdom until the Romans arrive, 63 years BC-“Before Christ”. Which brings us to a stable in Bethlehem.)   And this brings us to the greatest of all revolutions: the Jesus Revolution. The one that began with Jesus and the Apostles and disciples and is still going on today.

The Gospel writers had little difficulty seeing that Jesus was the Suffering Servant, since Jesus himself made it clear.  In Luke 22:37, at the end of the Last Supper he says:

“For I tell you, this scripture must be fulfilled in me, ‘And he was counted among the lawless’; and indeed, what is written about me is being fulfilled.” 

In the next verses he is arrested.

Isaiah shows up more often in our Catholic liturgy than any other Prophet, and it’s easy to see why.  Here is the clearest prediction and promise of the Messiah, the Christ; foretold by Prophets living centuries before he was even born!

What happens after the resurrection of the Messiah?  The Cycle continues, but now the new Covenant is not with a chosen people, but with all humanity.  Jesus becomes the new and eternal covenant and it is sealed through his suffering, blood, death, and Resurrection….and then sin and rebellion continue.  But something else happens. 

As I said, the Romans arrived in Judea 63 years before the birth of Jesus, the Suffering Servant.  And the Roman Empire was fertile ground for the spread of the Gospel.  The previous empires were not. We hear very little about Assyrians or Babylonians or Persians converting to the worship of the True God.  (Even after Daniel’s miracles repeatedly appeared to convert their kings, it never seemed to last.) But Rome was different: it was ripe.  For several reasons: it was relatively tolerant of religions that did not upset things too much. (Given the coming persecutions, it seems odd to think of Rome as tolerant of non-Roman religions. But it was relatively so.) That is why there were so many Jews living in Roman colonies, especially Egypt (the Diaspora caused by the earlier conquests of Israel).  And in Rome, many pagans had chosen to convert to Judaism, because they were impressed by the moral behavior of the Jews (in stark contrast to general Roman immorality, which often approached Sodom and Gomorrah levels).  These converts were called “God Fearers”, and they were common in Roman synagogues, and they were frequently the early converts to the new Jewish sect called Christianity. 

Of course, the Roman emperors quickly realized how disruptive Christianity could be, and decided to persecute Christians as brutally as possible.  But it was too late.  The cat was out of the box, and no numbers of martyrdoms would put it back. 

The Roman Empire becomes the incubator of the faith that would spread throughout the world! 

The entire Bible story foreshadows this expansion.  Starting with one faithful man (Abraham), it grows into a family and a tribe, becomes a nation, and from that nation in the fulness of time it expands to the whole world.  After some false starts and setbacks and failed covenants (Adam, Noah…), humanity has been taught how to live with God and under God. We still sin, but not out of ignorance.

The Prophets have given a voice to God’s Love, Mercy and Suffering in very human terms.  Our sins and rebellions cause God grief, pain, and anger: very human responses.  Isaiah’s God, our God, is quite different from the Philosopher’s God of Plato and Aristotle, so far above and beyond us.  Our God is human as well as divine, as we learn when he sends his son to us.  We cannot comprehend God without a human face and voice. And God suffers when we sin.  That is what Love requires.  Who of us have not felt the pain of a loved one’s sin?  That is the message that the Prophets and Jesus bring to us.  And that, I believe, is why we have a crucifix hanging before us in every Catholic Church.  Not just an empty cross, but a more-or-less realistic image of Jesus suffering and dying for our sins.

Let us pray:

Thank you, Lord, for our many blessings, those we recognize and those we do not.  Forgive us for our sins that have caused you suffering.  May your loving kindness reach out to those others who have suffered at our hands.

AMEN

BEAUTY and DIGNITY of Flowers

The above photos show two flowers I found recently in our garden.  They are both white hibiscus flowers, which blossom pretty much year-round in Florida.

The first one is in full bloom.  The second is a post-bloom that I found on the ground under the bush.  I picked it up because I thought it was a piece of wadded-up waste paper. 

When I looked closer, I saw that it had curled up on itself before falling from the bush. It looked like it was in a shroud of its own petals, with only the top (the stigma?) and a little of its golden pollen visible, but mostly bald.

The flower is of course indescribably beautiful. But I was surprised to see the beauty that it evolved into in its death.

What makes something beautiful?  Why is something, anything, beautiful?  Conventional wisdom has it that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, hinting that different people can see different things as beautiful (or ugly).  No doubt true to some extent, though I have trouble believing that anyone can find a hibiscus flower ugly. 

The Christian view is that beauty is a creation of God, one of the three things that show God to us (Truth, Beauty, and Love).  That leads to the question of whether God makes his creation intrinsically beautiful, or God instead gives us the capacity to see and appreciate beauty around us. Or both.

When I look at the hibiscus blossom, I see beauty.  And when I see the wilted flower in its petal-shroud, I see a dignity of faded beauty lost. And either way, I thank God for letting me see them.

“It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, O Lord.”

Always and everywhere.

.

THE CONTINUING CRUCIFIXION

AN EASTER THOUGHT

[I wrote this in 2018, on my first Easter as a Catholic Christian, shortly after the service at St. Raphael’s in Englewood Florida. I think the same thoughts every Easter.]

In church today for the Easter service, I found myself swept up in the joyous spirit.  The music, the liturgy, the homily, all so spirit-lifting! But I had one disturbing thought as I looked at the crucifix: it seemed out of place, jarring and untimely.  We were celebrating the risen Lord, but the unavoidable centerpiece of the church was the crucifix, graphically displaying the dying Lord.  Didn’t the crucifixion end? Hasn’t Christ risen?  Then why, on this most joyous day, are we faced with death – His death? His gruesome, grisly, tortured, pathetic, painful death?

On Good Friday and Holy Saturday, commemorating the time when Jesus was in the tomb, the crucifix was covered, removed from sight, signifying His terrible absence from us.  But on Easter Sunday morning, He is back. We welcome Him home…but as I look behind the altar I see that He is still suffering, even dying!

As a very recent convert (and long-lapsed Protestant), I have been thinking much about crucifixes. These depictions of our Savior dying on the cross adorn most (sadly not all) Catholic churches.  In this, we are (as far as I know) unique. Protestant churches usually have crosses behind the altar, but rarely are the crosses occupied.  I suspect Protestants see the crucifix as needlessly maudlin. (Perhaps an appropriate word, if we remember its origin in the person of Mary Magdalene.)

The empty Protestant crosses seem analogous to the empty tomb. The crucifixion, the death, the burial, all are in the past.  We move on.

But Catholics present the cross complete with the body of Jesus. The “corpus” may be symbolical or impressionistic, often bloodless, all in consideration of modern sensibilities about bloody, tortured bodies. But they are still painful to see.

I have not read an explanation of why Catholics embrace the crucifix where Protestant do not. But I am finding the crucifix a useful reminder that now, as in the past, every sin hurts God. Every sin requires an atonement.  Sin is not just an internal, private or inter-personal matter between me and anyone I injured with my sin. Every sin hurts God. It has to hurt Him if He truly loves us, as I now believe He does.

And so, for me, the crucifixion never ends. It continues as long as sin does – that is, as long as I sin. And it is a great blessing to be reminded of that fact every time I step into a church.  Even on joyous Easter.

Suffer the Little Children

Church and State on Divorce

[This essay has been previously published on Catholic Insight (catholicinsight.com), an excellent website in Canada. I encourage you to take a look.]

            In Mark 10, Jesus is asked by the Pharisees (“to test Him”) whether divorce is lawful. As He admits, the Law of Moses (Deuteronomy 24 and elsewhere) permitted divorce under some conditions. But Jesus argued more broadly, basing His words on the second chapter of Genesis, “the two will become one flesh.” Therefore, Jesus says, “what God has joined together, let not man put asunder.”

            The Mosaic Law on divorce is complex, but the overriding sense is that it is at best a necessary evil caused by unnecessary (and worse) evils. (As Jesus explained, “For your hardness of heart Moses wrote you this commandment.”) Adultery and abuse were the commonly accepted justifications. Remarriage of divorced persons was permitted in some cases and prohibited in others.

Two Stories, Two Brave Men

I am sorry to have been away from the keyboard for so long, but I have been reading many classic and modern voices of the Church, and it has dawned me that I have nothing new or original to contribute.

The wealth of wisdom that the Church has lavished on humanity is staggering. We would all be much wiser and happier if we took the time to learn from the great teachers.

So, as I continue to study, and to put this Holy Wisdom into practice, learning to love God and my neighbors more deeply and effectively, I realized that the best thing I can do with my little blog is to direct readers to the best writing that is out there.

I start today with CRISIS Magazine, a source of incisive (but respectful and loving criticism) of the problems now facing our Church. Two excellent essays about two brave men are up on their homepage today.

The first is “Brendan Had Three Babies“. Austin Ruse is a strong, often truculent, even trident voice of the Catholic Pro-Life movement; but today he writes in a softer tone. Brendan was a Downs Syndrome child (with leukemia) who managed to deeply affect those around him in need. His “three babies” are other children who fought similar health problems, and for whom Brendan offered up his suffering to God.

After I read it, I could well understand why the author is joining others in promoting a canonization for Brendan.

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My Favorite Lines from the Liturgy

I see my friend Mister Hans Moleman has posted some of his favorite lines from the canon of Marxism. OK, Groucho Marx-ism.  Along with a favorite bit of Monty Python-ism, from a movie that even he describes as “arguably pretty sacrilegious, anti-Christian, and anti-Semitic, but inarguably funny.” Hmm.

Anyway, it reminded me to write my own list of favorites…from the Catholic Liturgy of the Mass. I have been thinking of calling this “Hidden Gems from the Liturgy. But that sounded like I was a treasure hunter finding unrecognized beauties where no one else thought to look. So I simply acknowledge these as my favorites, as words that never fail to ring a bell in my mind when I hear the priest pronounce them.

“…Fruit of the earth and work of human hands…”

At the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the priest blesses the Lord for the offering:

…Fruit of the earth and work of human hands…

What a beautiful, poetic description of the bread we offer, as well as any other vegetable, food, wood, or even ornamental landscape. How simply these words describe the relationship of the farmer (or landscaper or backyard gardener) with the processes and products of agriculture (or silviculture or …).    (And, of course, the wine we offer God: “fruit of the vine and work of human hands…”  When I work in my own garden, these words come to me often.

In the Preface dialogue, the priest asks us to “Lift up your hearts.” We reply: “We lift them up to the Lord.”

This is just beautiful, in English or in the Latin “Sursum corda. (see below)

But for me the highlight comes next. “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.”  We reply that “It is truly right and just.”

The priest continues: “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Lord…”  Can you spot the hidden gem?  This one is not only a gem but also kind of hidden.

ALWAYS AND EVERYWHERE!”    

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[UPDATED] Sorry, Hallmark; Men are forgetting to be Fathers!

“Men have forgotten God!”  Soviet dissident Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn famously thundered this verdict in a 1983 speech after his exile from Soviet Russia.

He was speaking of both Western and Communist civilizations, and he clearly referred to “men” in the generic sense of all humanity, of both (or, as we might say today, all) genders.  It is hard to argue against his conclusion.

But today, on the eve of what the Hallmark Corporation has dubbed “Fathers’ Day”, another aspect of our amnesia is also evident.  Men have forgotten to be Fathers!  Our civilizational collapse is a clear result of both these plagues of memory loss.  (Of course, the two are pretty obviously linked.  One might identify the first forgetting as the ultimate cause, and the second forgetting as the proximate cause. Or vice versa.)

An overly-sweeping generalization, you say? Yes, of course it is. But it is a widespread and growing phenomenon. The statistics are hardly debatable, or even debated.  More than a quarter of the 121 million men in the United States (that is, over 30 million men) are biological fathers of at least one child under the age of 18.  Of those children, 17 million live in fatherless homes. The reasons are many: divorce, abandonment, incarceration, etc. But except for the death or overseas service of a father, they shed no credit on the modern father.

Children from fatherless homes account for:

Suicide: 63 percent of youth suicides

Runaways: 90 percent of all homeless and runaway youths

Behavioral Disorders: 85 percent of all children that exhibit behavioral disorders

High School Dropouts: 71 percent of all high school dropouts

Juvenile Detention Rates: 70 percent of juveniles in state-operated institutions

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My Brother – an Update

My brother Dick died recently. He had suffered through many years and several incurable diseases. And in his last months he was often hospitalized to stabilize his various conditions and medications. The last month was spent in an ICU bed, every day filled with hoping and praying to get him released to rehab and home. Much of that time he was delirious, and violently so. When he was responsive, he was overwhelmed by both exhaustion and impatience to be released. His ever-loving wife Lynda suffered by his side throughout, scarcely sleeping for over a month. (I don’t know how she did it! She is a strong and wonderful woman, and a blessing to my family.)

A grim story. Prayers seemed to go unanswered. But then one day, he snapped out of it! Still exhausted (and impatient), he had little memory of his delirium and suffering. We had great visits, and high hopes that he might be released soon. His friends stopped by for visits.

And then he died. Suddenly, without any warning, his heart gave out. He was mourned by a large group of men he had helped for years through Alcoholics Anonymous.

Were my prayers answered? Only when I stopped praying for specific medical miracles, and simply prayed “Lord, help my brother.” And finally, “Lord, bring him back to us.” And that He did.

Now my prayer is one of thanksgiving, and for the soul of my departed brother.

UPDATE: “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4.

Check Out “Squirrely”

I see my good friend Mr. Moleman has posted a link to my Reminiscence about Mr. B (see below).

In appreciation of his kind gesture, I would suggest you take a look at his post “Squirrely”, a short story about the radical politics of the squirrels around us. You will enjoy it.

WILLIS A. BOUGHTON – A Reminiscence

In my misspent youth I was helped along by a remarkable man.  In the 1960’s, he was a youth group counselor for the MYF (Methodist Youth Group) at St. Andrews, a neighborhood church in a working class area of Ft. Lauderdale, Florida.

Willis A. Boughton was born in 1885, so when I met him he was already in his 70’s; quite a contrast from the millennial hipsters so common in today’s church youth ministries (see babylonbee.com for more info on the type.)

FAITH, HOPE, LOVE, a Tangled Thread (Recently Updated)

St. Paul famously articulated the theological virtues: “Now abideth these three; Faith, Hope and Love.”

While he went on to crown one of them above the others (1 Corinthians 13:13, “the greatest of these is love”), he otherwise left this trinity of virtues unclarified. How are they related? Is there a connection between them?  Aren’t faith and hope the same thing, kind of? Did he separate them just to have three things in the list?

Elsewhere we read that “faith is the substance of things hoped for”, which certainly suggests a strong linkage between those two. The continuation of that passage (in Hebrews 11:1), “and the proof of things unseen”, fits our modern definition of faith more closely. But the link between faith and hope seems to want further consideration.

More modern translations suggest somewhat different meanings. The NAB calls faith “the realization of what is hoped for”. The NIV has “faith is being sure of what we hope for”.  The Jerusalem Bible reaches further, with “only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for”.  The Greek text uses the word “hypostasis” which elsewhere is usually translated as “substance,” so I stick with the RSV or KJV.

Faith, then, is the underlying reality of our hopes. But I am still confused about this “F-H-L” trinity.

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