Seeing

Father Antontio, when talking about St. Augustine's book, "Deus Trinitas":

"Faith is about seeing things that cannot be seen - faith is not a voluntaristic leap into the darkness, it's about how it's PART of seeing. There are many things we believe "in faith" that are decisive for life. Like love, friendship - can you see those? Could you do without them?"

Beautiful!

Another, when speaking of how long Augustine took to finally convert:

"Conversion and convocation [calling] are of one piece. God gives everything, and everything is unfolded. Augustine can't understand what the martyrs understood that he could not - what do they have that I don't have? He couldn't conceive of a life without a woman and falling into concupisence.

[What took him so long?] Yes, on one hand it was about the discovery of his own vocation, but also it has more to do with understanding that it's not up to him to have the strength to respond to the call. If God calls, God provides. What he had to let go of was not attraction to women but his PRIDE.

This explains the relationship between grace and nature as a doctor who cures eyes. It will hurt, but you need it because you need to see. But you must LET HIM DO IT."

The Other "Woman"

Dear Blog,
I know you feel neglected. But until I have conversations with about ten important people who probably think I’ve been fed to the sharks, or to the DC equivalent (hipsters in Bethesda?), you are just going to have to wait. Don’t worry, next year when and if I have a job, I will write in you often. (The closer finals get, the more certain I am that I will not go back to school next year. This could all change the second my last test is done, however.)

Lest you remain completely neglected, O Dear Corner of Cyberspace, I will share this story with you:

My dad has a little teeny tiny dog named Honey. My dad is not a teeny-tiny dog kinda guy, (more like a, “Go fetch my big honkin’ gun, Spot!” kinda guy) but he did not choose this dog which, oddly enough, has crept its way deep into my dad’s heart. (Okay, you know I love dogs, but if it’s twelve years old and fluffy and the size of my hand, it’s not a dog. It may be cute, but it’s not a DOG dog.)

So my dad, who is usually pretty unflappable when it comes to the minor emergencies of life, was practically distraught when I spoke with him yesterday. Why? Apparently Honey had found a pill of my dad’s. How did she find it, you ask? Because he lets her sit next to him in his truck on the console and she was sniffing around the cupholder. HUGE, long SUV with a liiiiittle dog up front. Anyway, Honey found this pill and Dad was trying to get her to throw it up. He was really worried, and when it was all over (they gave her hydrogen peroxide to maker her throw up ), Dad was expressing his relief to me over the phone. THIS is what he said to me:

“She had me scared! Man, I love that little dog – other than you, she’s the most….”

Yes, that’s what he said. He trailed off. I would like to think he trailed off because he realized there WASN’T a category in which it was appropriate to put both me and the DOG together, but realistically he probably trailed off because he was distracted by thinking how much he loves that dog.

And my friends wonder how anyone could love dogs as much as I do….. the dog-lover doesn’t fall far from the dog-lover tree.

That’s all for now. Going now to study and then study (eek) more!

Stay! Sit, blog! Good blog.

Relevation!

Yes, I know I spelled Revelation wrong. I'm punning on "elevation". Bear with me. :)

Ok, I just had one of those realizations of something that you've been grasping over and over but each time differently. I will try to explain it. If it doesn't makes sense to you, it's my fault, not yours. I don't have a lot of time to write this so I might mess it up. If it DOES make sense to you, then you've possibly "gotten" this for a long time and I'm only just catching up... so don't laugh. :)

Okay. So Christ's mission (which is an utter expropration, surrender of self) comes from his "procession" from the Father. In other words, his mission cannot be separated from WHO HE IS.

Okay. So the more we expropriate ourselves, pour ourselves out in service, we enter into, accept as our own, Christ's own mission - and THEREFORE HIS OWN SELF, thereby becoming persons-in-His-person. This has ecclesial implications - the more I serve the more of my true PERSON I become, but the less my OWN I become. The Church (the Body of Christ) finds a bigger home in my heart, because, by entering into/ accepting as my own Christ's mission, I am entering into /accepting as my own Christ's mission = his very SELF. Our service doesn't unite us with Christ because it pleases Him and he brings us closer to him as a result --- our service IS the uniting - REALLY - of our person with that of Christ. His consciousness becomes our consciousness - but NEVER in a way that eclipses our own particular reality. God is big enough to exist in us all without eliminating all our particularities. The Church as a whole and in each individual member experiences this loss/growth phenomenon. This becoming-more doesn't divide but unite the Church more because we become more HIM - the principle of our unity.

We NEVER have to be afraid of losing ourselves. Because, of course, the Cross has transformed the meaning of surrender and emptying of /death to self as precisely the RECEPTION of self because it's the reception of HIM whose love is the deepest part of our being - even our being human. We become more human in Him, not less.

I think that's it.

Faithful Promiser

Uphold me according to thy promise, that I may live,
and let me not be put to shame in my hope!

Psalm 119:116

Ratzinger on Hope and Time

“Humanity needs eternity; every other hope is too short for it. And it is not true that eternity robs humanity of time, impoverishes it, and makes it unimportant. On the contrary, only eternity can give man time. If a person’s death is worthless, then his life is worthless too. If man is ultimately jettisoned in death, if he becomes as so much refuse, then he is, even beforehand, one of the things that humanity can jettison and can treat as such. But if man never becomes refuse, if his value is called eternity, then this value is always his and marks his whole life.

A psychologist pointed out recently that the embezzled heaven is the crucial sickness of earth: because people forget heaven, the earth becomes empty and men become ill. If we promise paradise to alter generations but only nothingness, only death, to each individual, then we have promised nothing to anyone. It comes down to this: a future that is just future and not also present has nothing to offer humanity: every day is too long to wait for it. A present that is only present and has no future has no hope. The nothingness that follows it also pollutes the present and makes it unbearable. Only eternity can unite present and future. It always transcends the moment, is always more than we presently have, but it is not limited just to the future, it always extends even now into all our days.

Those who have talked us out of our belief in heaven, or would like to talk us out of it, have not given us the earth in exchange but have made it desolate and empty, have covered it with darkness. We must find once more the courage to believe in eternal life with all our heart. Then we shall also have the courage to love the earth and to work at building its future. Let us dare to believe once more in eternal life, to live for eternal life. We shall see how life automatically becomes richer, greater, more free and less cramped.”

-Ratzinger, from “Ordinariatskorrespondenz, January 4, 1979”

Always-Already-but-not-Yet

Every autumn, the trees offer the brilliant red-orange-yellow harmonies and I am again taken aback by the utter glory of this yearly event. It always comes as a complete surprise – like every manifestation of beauty does, I suppose. It is my favorite season, and always has been. I’ve spent a lot of time this season walking around my neighborhood, which does autumn so well, delighting in shuffling my feet through leaves and feeling the crisp air awaken my lungs to their full capacity.

I’ve been wondering why it is my “secret” favorite of all the seasons, all equally beloved in theory. How is it that autumn is so invigorating? It’s so different from the spring, when there is a thrusting forth of life in a promise of things to come. Even though everything is dying in the autumn, it all bespeaks a sense of “something more”. For the first time, this year, it occurred to me how odd it is that it is precisely in their greatest expression of finitude and mortality, as the leaves die and fall to the ground, that the great clouds of red and orange and yellow and green evoke the deepest and most heart-breaking beauty. Why the poignancy?

Maybe because the beauty of autumn is a reminder that there is not a strict separation between finitude and infinitude, death and life, time and eternity. The difference, while being entirely uncollapsable, is not sharply dichotomous. The psalms sing of creation being FILLED with God’s glory. I think that the glory of God shines through not only in the living, the whole, and the beautiful, but ALSO in the dead, the broken, and the ugly… because the same instinct by which we judge something to be un-beautiful or un-glorious is the same instinct that proves to us that we have a message written by a divine Hand on our hearts that promises Something that never ends, never dies. Otherwise, there would be nothing that compels our hearts to ache or yearn – God uses heartbreak and death – the consequences of a fallen world – to whisper of the glory that waits for us, that is already-but-not-yet present to our consciousness?

I really, honestly believe that this is what I see in the autumnal beauty that touches me. The beauty of dying things is the incarnation of a Promise, of a Hope. The same hope which sustains me. The leaves drift to the ground, in a steadiness that is delicate, lovely, but inexorable. Likewise, so much in my life is out of my control, and I count my losses and crosses without being able to fix much that is broken. It is only this Hope that allows me to Really See that true “reality” includes the visible wounds and dying away AND the eternal Beyond that shines through the temporal Here.

That’s why I love autumn. Well, that, and apple cider.




“Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.”

-Alexander Pope,
An Essay on Man, Epistle I, 1733

Lecture at Georgetown

Last night, a few friends and I went to hear the Anglican Bishop N. T. Wright speak at Georgetown. Interesting to hear how an Anglican bishop, who I think would tend towards High Church understanding, spoke about Christianity and what Christianity has to say to modernity about the Good Life - what is good IN life and what is The Good OF life. He was promoting his new book, meant to be a modern-day Mere Christianity. After hearing his engaging talk, I had to wonder how much his promotion of the book affected his answers to the questions he fielded after his talk. Was he holding out on us, trying to neutralize his opinions to make them more palatable to a broad audience?

I don't mean to be disparaging - in fact, I thought MANY of his comments about modern society were QUITE trenchant and appropriate. I believe I began to feel that itch in the back of my mind that says Something is missing when he began to talk about our ANSWER to what is lacking or mistaken in modernity's understanding of the human person and his/her task.

He received several questions about Why be in a Christian Church? Why not just do good and believe what you will about God?

His response? Something about how Tradition is good for us, possibly because it offers a certain, valuable, kind of experience of God. Also, something about how it seems to be the best vehicle for doing good as people TOGETHER. That without this type of organization, our desire to do good falls apart and you get the tragedies of the 20th century.

There is much truth in his answer. But, if I were one of the questioners, I would have remained thoroughly unconvinced by those responses. They seem, as Jonathan pointed out, utilitarian. Frankly, I wanted to point out that the tragedies of humanity did not only occur under the atheism of 20th century but also under banners of religious belief in centuries throughout the world. People claiming to be of the Church have done awful things. People who REALLY DO believe also sin. We are fallen. If the reason to be Christian (specifically, a Christian member of a CHURCH - or THE Church) lies in a perfect track record of Christian behavior, well, I'm out!

I came into the Church because I was convicted that it is the Body of Christ, active in the World. That, as fallen and imperfect its members, there is something untouchable and impregnable about the integrity of that Body on earth - that it is beyond the performance reviews of its members, and more than the sum of its parts... although certainly not separate from the latter. I'm not trying to dismiss how we as members of this Body are to carry Christ's love to the world!! But, if I fail in my mission, the Church still stands. Does this make any sense?

I guess I just felt unsatisfied with Bishop Wright's treatment of what it means to be in a church. Maybe he keenly felt his presence at a Catholic university and wanted to avoid all talk of authority or continuity lest he sound Catholic. Maybe it's just the simple fact that He is ANGLICAN, after all, and presumably he has a reason for being Anglican and NOT Catholic. If you don't believe there is one, catholic, apostolic church, is it difficult to talk of the Church as being the Body of Christ? It seems you could still, as an Anglican, speak of the Body of Christ in a general way, referring to the unity of all Christian believers (Catholic or Protestant).

I don't know enough about Anglican understanding of Church to say much - these are just my

Through a glass darkly

Hi there... It's been a while, and I suppose most of the reason for that has to do with living with beautiful girls who are both friends and classmates. This means that we are often home at the same times and also that we can't seem to stop talking to one another. So that's where my time has gone. I've also been a more conscientious student this year (with some exceptions for, as Winnie the Pooh said, I am a bear of very little brain and can only think so long before I must go sit out on the porch with a cold drink.)
Classes are going smashingly. My favorite so far is Father Antonio's class on the Trinity. The great thing about this class is that there's no point in being there if you're not going to wrestle with the material. Tuesday, we read Augustine's "De Trinitate" (rather, selections FROM it) and spent our time attempting to understand it. The first thing we must understand, of course, is that one can NEVER wrap one's mind AROUND the great truths of Christianity - the best one can do is immerse the mind IN the reality of the Trinity and hang on for the ride. Not to say that it defies logic - but it does transcend it. And part of our task is seeing how being transcendent is different from being illogical.

The more I study at the Institute, the more I come to see theology as a kind of loving - we can grow in our understanding of a dear friend but this understanding can never be exhaustive. The mystery can never be ecclipsed. Father Antonio pointed out that a major modern error is the way we understand knowledge as an appropriation. We have heard people say that "knowledge is power" over and over, as though it's a tool to take and wield. But the thing is that in Christ, who is Logos, we see that truth is a PERSON... Jesus Christ... more than it is a set of concepts or philosophies. Truth, then, is a place of communion, or relation. In a sense our task is not to know MORE but to love ever more deeply - but NOT in a way that leaves behind our reason. Simply we remember that St. Paul did not write: The greatest of these is an impressive set of credentials, but The greatest of these is LOVE. I've been amazed to learn that theology is so often reduced to an academic exercise. For the life of me, I cannot understand that. If I did not believe what I am studying, if it wasn't the grounding of who I am, I would not be here. Truth be told, I'd probably be some where very different, living a life that would be trying so very hard to be exciting and meaningful but would, at the end of the day, leave me bored. There is nothing more boring than a lack of conviction - only truth is dramatic.

After class on Tuesday, I had a short exchange with Father Antonio about how we can hold that 1) God is one divine nature 2) God is Three Persons, each of whom are this wholly divine nature. It might seem that you have the nature of God on one level (herein lies the unity) and the person-hood of God on another (and herein lies the distinction of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit). But it CAN'T be that person-hood has nothing to do with God's nature, otherwise, no matter if it's eternally true of Him or not, it would remain extrinsic.

So, anyway, I was talking with Father about whether or not person-hood (my own word - don't blame its possible faults on Augustine or Father) is part of the nature of God. I think that Augustine refers to this. Father sounded reluctant to commit to a yes or no, and in the end said that it is both yes AND no. Time will tell what he means. :) After this, I stood in front of him bearing the full weight of my finitude as I faced my inability to reallly understand this whole Three-In-One thing, and I looked in his eyes and said,
"Father Antonio, I'm SUFFERING!"
He silently chuckled and said, "Good."

He's right - Nothing stretches one's heart (and therefore one's ability to understand) more than suffering. Father told me that I will not be able to find the perfect word or phrase that completely makes sense of these two truths - that God is ONE indivisible nature and that God is Three Persons. Mystery is something that we suffer as well as revel in. Much of my inner life has been marked by a deep desire to seek truth, but this WILL ultimately mean running up against a mystery that I cannot tear down - and ought not try. This is true of my own life as well, which has much of the twilight about it. It's a thing of joy and pain to feel God working in your life but to have not much idea what exactly it is that He is doing. But that's a mystery that can, if I let it, bring me closer to Him rather than farther. Seems to me that the same applies in my studies.

Remind me of this when I'm studying for the final for this class, eh?

Annunciation!

This post is brought to you by the letter “G” and the number “3”…. and by a certain archangel...

“G” stands for GABRIEL (who “stands before God” – Luike 1:19) and “3” stands for the new number of people in C-La’s family!! (C-La… you just gotta new blogname!!)

Having gone to bed much later than I should have due to reading for too long (hundreds of warnings which my mother gave me in my childhood about not staying up too late and being tired apparently had little to NO effect on the formation of my prudence – Mom tried her best, though)… I was extremely confused and groggy when my alarm rang at 6:30AM… I had set it for 8:30, what oh WHAT was it doing waking me up so soon??

‘Twasn’t my alarm – it was my cell phone! I looked at the Caller ID and saw “C-La” on the screen. “Why is she calling so early?” I wondered, and resolved to ask her when I called her back later in the morning. I put the phone down on the bedside table and began to turn over when the other eighty percent of my brain woke up with a start, and I sat bolt upright, exclaimed, “Baby!!” and fumbled hastily for the phone, which – luckily – was still ringing. It was MR. C-LA!!! Sounding wayyy too calm for a soon-to-be-first-time-father on his way to the hospital, he explained that the baby was on the way and would I please pray for them? I said YES and couldn’t say much else due to grogginess and excitement and we said good-bye.

I paused long enough to make some espresso (don’t be fooled – I put as much milk as espresso into it) and headed off to St. Martin’s down the street. I prayed and prayed and prayed my hardest – which isn’t to say much because it was still quite early and anyways I’m such a wretch … but love covers over a multitude of imperfect prayers… : ) And I had the most lovely feeling that everything would be alright. I was hardly worried at all – just SOOOO full of love for this little person who wasn’t even (officially) HERE yet!! But I knew he was coming (although I didn’t know he was a “he” then) and that he and Mommy C-La would be alright. I gave it over to our favorite Mama Mary, St. Therese, and the ever-lovin’ JPII, and went about my day working at the Institute.

Often – that is, every other minute – I stopped to think about this thing, this newness, which occurring at this very moment by and through and within C-La. This is my first experience of watching someone close to me throughout their pregnancy (I’m an only child, after all). What struck me was this plenitude of present-ness. There was this beginning, this happening… it was so very much of-the-moment, the event of birth like an infinitely unfolding rose, a moment of potency that comes from but is unbound by the past and indicative of but not identifiable with the future. It IS. It is pure be-ing. The moment of birth is the pattern and seed of every moment, for every person. We are to become like little children. This means not just innocent, although it is that, and not just children of God, although it that to – this goal, this “be-coming” like little children seems to me to be a present-oriented existence. It is a present that is not isolated from the past or future – it contains both but does not encapsulate them. It is the meeting place of act and potency, of gift and receptivity, of creature and Creator… This is the moment when God is touching us, touching our lives. We cannot hold on to this moment – when Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene after His Resurrection, he told her not to hold on to Him. If we are holding on to the present, our hands are closed, but the Lord wants them to be open, ready to receive the next moment, the next gift. Too often, I act like my life is a savings account, to be groomed and fed in preparation for a rainy day, so that I may treasure my past when there is to be no more future. NOW is the acceptable time for giving my heart once again to the Lord. One second later, that time is gone and I have the ever-present, ever-changing NOW once more to offer up. The stream of “now”s does not end, it flows on, mirroring eternity and – moment by moment, “now” by “now” – leads us to that eternity.

This childlike acceptance, this receptivity that is not passive but active, finds its pattern and form in the birth of a child. This morning as I prayed for little Gabriel and his parents, I asked that C-La may be filled up and bathed in the love of all her friends, family, and most of all her Heavenly Father. Love calls forth more love. Birth of a new being called forth my love, which I gave over to my friend, who was in the process of giving her love over to this little being. All love is circumincessive – but wildly so, and in all directions (another non-theological way of saying this is that love pays big, infinite dividends). It is not a two-way street, it is a forever-extension. So is time. Love is the form of time.

Speaking of time, we’ve been waiting for you, Gabriel. We love you already! Welcome.