Trinity: a Good Attempt

Trinity Sunday May 18, 2008

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]

Second reading - 2 Corinthian 13:11-13

Brothers and sisters, rejoice. Mend your ways, encourage one another, agree with one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you. Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the holy ones greet you. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to John -- 3:16-18

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

Introduction
Trinity Sunday

The church’s liturgical cycle begins with the Father sending the Son in the Advent-Christmas season. It continues with the Son returning to the Father in the Easter-Ascension season. The cycle peaks with the Father and the Son sending the Holy Spirit on the feast of Pentecost. So today’s feast of the mystery of the Trinity (Father, Son and Holy Spirit) is well-positioned here at the end of the cycle.

Mystery vs. theology

In theology mystery does not mean a conundrum or riddle but rather a deep ocean in which to swim. In theology mystery is more than the eye can see or the mind can fathom. But while mystery is more than the mind can fathom, theology, on the other hand, is the human attempt to fathom God. So there is Islamic theology -- Muslims’ attempt to fathom God. There is Jewish theology -- Jews’ attempt to fathom God. And there is Christian theology. That God is a trinity of persons -- Father, Son and Holy Spirit -- is the attempt of Christians to fathom God.

There is an obvious tug of war between mystery and theology. Mystery says God cannot be fathomed. On the other hand, theology says, “That might be true, but I’m going to try anyway.” St. Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274), the church’s most renowned theologian, tried to fathom God. He wrote volume after volume in Latin about the ineffable God. But at the sunset of his life he looked upon his pretentious writings and exclaimed, “Nihil est!" “It‘s nothing!” Karl Barth (1886-1968), a Swiss Reformed theologian and one of the most important Christian thinkers of the twentieth century, also thought he would try to fathom God. After writing volume after volume about the ineffable God, at the sunset of his life he made sport of his pretentious volumes saying, "The angels are laughing at old Karl Barth."

An obedient God

The best thing God has going for Himself is His mystery. But we destroy His mystery whenever we pretend to have God down pat. When we spell out definitively God’s positions on issues like birth control, divorce and remarriage, homosexuality, etc., then we have God down pat and have destroyed His mystery. When preachers have God looking just like us revengeful human beings whenever they proclaim AIDS as God’s pay-back upon immoral sinners, then they have God down pat and have destroyed His mystery. When we pretend to know God’s sexual preferences (i.e., male priests over female priests or celibate priests over married priest), when we pretend to know even God’s very gender (i.e., He is male) then we have God down pat and have destroyed His mystery. When we pretend even to know God’s own special recipe for baking a “valid” Communion wafer, [3] then, indeed, we have God down pat. A God whom we have down pat is an obedient God, and we cherish an obedient God as we cherish an obedient child.

Usama’s obedient God

The world’s most notorious terrorist, Usama bin Laden, has his God down pat. Bin Laden is first and foremost an Islamic believer. He believes in the Five Pillars of Islam, especially the Pillar of Shahada -- the one-line personal profession of faith whereby Muslims fervently profess that There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet. For them that is the one only right answer about God, and anyone who does not profess it is an infidel. At the end of the day, it was that one only right answer about God which inspired bin Laden and his co-fanatics to send two 747s crashing into the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan, bringing down two towers and three thousand innocent infidels in the name of Allah, Most Merciful. Bin Laden has his God down pat. A God whom we have down pat is an obedient God, and we cherish an obedient God as we cherish an obedient child.


Rev. Phelps’ obedient God

The Rev. Phelps also has his God down pat. Matt Shepard was a gay student from the University of Wyoming, whom two skinheads beat to a pulp and chained to a wooden fence out in the country, leaving him to die there, bathed in his tears and blood. Inflamed with the same homophobic hatred Rev. Phelps picketed Shepard’s funeral with a sign which read, “God hates fags and buries them in hell—Romans 9:13.” Phelps with his followers also pickets the funeral of any soldiers brought home from Iraq, because, he says, they died for a country which endorses homosexuality. At the end of the day, Phelps and his co-fanatics do not believe in God who is a trinity of Persons loving one another and inviting us into that exchange of love. They believe only in their agenda which they place in God in order to endow it with divine and deadly authority. They have their God down pat. A God whom we have down pat is an obedient God, and we cherish an obedient God as we cherish an obedient child.

A church’s obedient God

One Sunday I assisted in a church dedicated to St. Michael the Archangel deep in the heart of Texas. In the vestibule of the church was a huge muscular statue of the archangel. The gospel that Sunday was about Jesus making the apostles fishers of men. In the homily I suggested the possibility of solving the acute shortage of priests by ordaining married men and even women as fishers of men. That made many deeply unhappy! I was informed that there ensued a flood of fifty plus telephone calls to the church office in complaint. The fury caused by my “wild suggestions” was described as similar to what happened when Vatican II first broke upon the Catholic faithful. As a result I was basically informed that it would have to be the parish’s way or the highway. I knew without doubt that it would have to be the highway. As I look back now, I see that huge muscular statue of Michael as protecting a God whom that church had down pat. A God whom we have down pat is an obedient God, and we cherish an obedient God as we cherish an obedient child.

Who does not love does not know God.

In extremely simple terms St. John writes, “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love” (I Jn 4:8). It is not theology in the head but love in the heart that makes us know God. Usama bin Laden religiously recites his Islamic profession that There is no God but Allah, and Mohammed is his prophet. He faithfully falls to his knees in ritual prayer five times daily. At the same time, he luxuriates in the apocalyptic event of 9\11 which brought down two towers and three thousand innocent human beings with one blow, and he periodically sends us hate messages promising that worse is yet to be visited upon us infidels. Usama does not know God, for Scripture says, “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.”

Rev. Phelps quotes the Bible (Romans 9:13) and recites the Nicene Creed with its clear profession of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. At the same time he luxuriates in homophobic hatred as he pickets the funeral of Matt Shepard and buries him in hell. Preacher Phelps, like Usama, does not know God, for Scripture says, “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.”

There are churchly communities whose archangels zealously protect “orthodoxy,” i.e., the “right” formulation of teachings, instead of protecting love which opens the horizons of our hearts and minds. Despite their “orthodoxy,” such churchly communities do not know God, for John writes, “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.”

Before Rev. Phelps and Usama bin Laden and that parish community protected by Michael the Archangel, there was a Jewish priest who was traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. He had a doctorate in theology from the University of Jerusalem and was on his way to deliver a paper at a theological seminary in Jericho. He suddenly came upon a man waylaid by robbers and left half-dead. With a ton of theology in his head but not an ounce of love and compassion in his heart he glanced at the poor man lying there and passed him by. (Lk 10:30-32) Though he had a doctorate in theology he did not know God, for John writes, “The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.”

Who loves knows God

But John’s words are a two-edged sword, for he writes, “The one who loves is a child of God and knows God.” (I Jn 4:7) Shortly after the Jewish priest inhumanely passed by the man waylaid by robbers on the road to Jericho, along came a Samaritan. For various reasons Jews considered Samaritans as outcasts and heretics. They were heretics especially because they worshipped God on Mt. Gerizim. Jewish teachers, who had God down pat, claimed the only right place to worship God was in the temple in Jerusalem. (Jn 4:20) The heretical Samaritan seeing the poor man by the wayside stopped to pour the oil of compassion into his wounds, then hoisted him onto his beast of burden and hurried him off to the nearest inn where he provided for his care and cure. (Lk 10:33-35) Heretic though he was, the Samaritan knew God, for Scripture says, “The one who loves is a child of God and knows God.”

When Sister Barbara Ann Kutchera (of the BVM Order) died of ovarian cancer at the age of 66, her funeral was held at St. Benedict the Moor Church in Milwaukee. People came from every direction to give joyful testimony of that great lady. The testimony made people laugh and rejoice, and it turned the funeral into a great celebration. Her own religious Order came fifty sisters strong, and none of them were dressed the way sisters “are supposed to dress.” Some of them even wore earrings! There was simply nothing down pat about that funeral. The real shocker came at the homily; the preacher was a she (!) -- the Rev. Linda Hansen. What’s more, the preacher was born and raised a Catholic but left the church for various reasons and became an ordained Unitarian Universalist minister. (Unitarians do not subscribe to God as a trinity of persons.)

Rev. Linda was chosen to be the homilist for the funeral because of her warm personal relationship with Sr. Barbara. Her homily was carefully crafted, and it softly alluded to the strange twists and turns of the human journey. Rev. Linda spoke also about the warm, human side of Sr. Barbara. She mentioned a visit to Barbara in the early 1980s in the San Francisco Bay area. Though Barbara had a major paper to finish, she took the time out to show her the Bay Area which she loved very much. Sr. Kutchera knew God not because she was a Trinitarian. Rev. Hansen knew God not because she was a Unitarian. Both knew God because both were loving people, for John writes, “The one who loves is a child of God and knows God.

Be at peace!

In the Nicene Creed at Mass we profess to”believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth…. And in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, … begotten, not made, one in Being with the Father…. And we believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son….”

If, as we recite the creed, we feel we do not know what the words mean, be at peace! The person in the pew beside us also does not know what the words mean. Be at peace! As long as we are loving human beings, we are children of God and know God. Be at peace also when someone we love very much (like a son or daughter) has left the church and no longer sits with us in the pew and recites with us the ancient Trinitarian creed. As long as they are loving human beings they are children of God and know God.

Conclusion
Trinity: a good attempt

At the end of the day, the Christian attempt to fathom God is a good one. It has rich overtones. It speaks of God as a Father who loves and forgives us his children. That lays an axe to the mean and revengeful god whom the Rev. Phelps has invented to hate and bury fags in hell. Trinity also speaks of God as a Son who in the fullness of time was born into the human condition and became Emmanuel – God with us. That lays an axe to a god who is high above us or beyond us or unconcerned about us. Trinity also speaks of God as a Holy Spirit who dwells within us. That lays an axe to the awful thought that we are alone on the long arduous journey of life and have no one to speak with.

Again, the Christian attempt to fathom God is a good one. It says that “God is love” (I Jn 4:16), but loving requires more than one. God, is never alone or lonely, for in God there is a family of Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and all of them are busy loving one another. What’s more, God who is in a constant inward loving exchange extends an invitation outward to us to join Him in His family of love. There we shall find the Good Samaritan, Rev. Hansen, Sr. Kutchera, and all the other people who have gone before us, and who are God’s children because they loved much.

[1]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!

[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24

[3] To accommodate a child afflicted with celiac, a disease which can not tolerate wheat, a pastor had a Communion wafer made from rice for the little girl’s first Communion. His boss, the bishop, declared the Communion invalid because, he said, “We must follow Christ—we must do what he did. At the Last Supper he did not consecrate rice wafers but bread”!

Shalom! Peace!

PENTECOST May 11, 2008
Acts 2:1-11 I Corinthians 12:4-6 John 20:19-23

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]

Introduction

Pentecost: a Jewish harvest feast

After his resurrection, Jesus appeared to the apostles from time to time in human form for forty days. Then promising to send them the Holy Spirit He ascended into heaven. (Acts 1:3; Lk 24:49) Originally, Pentecost (a Greek word meaning fiftieth day) was a Jewish harvest feast which took place on the fiftieth day after Passover. A devout Jew was then expected to make a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem to give thanks for the harvest. On the occasion of this harvest feast, Jesus fulfilled His promise to send the Holy Spirit. It was, indeed, a harvest feast for the first believers; they reaped nothing less than the Holy Spirit.

Pentecost: the summit of the cycle

With Pentecost we reach the summit of the liturgical cycle which began with the Son’s descent to earth in the Christmas season. It continued with the Son’s ascent back to the Father in heaven through death, resurrection and ascension. The cycle now peaks with the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost.

With Pentecost we conclude the Easter season. The Paschal candle is blown out. Its prominence is downgraded to a less conspicuous spot near the baptismal font, and we return to Ordinary Time with its color green. We will coast along in green through the warm summer months until November 30, 2008, when we will start the cycle all over again with the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2008.

The openness of Pentecost

The first reading for Pentecost relates how the Holy Spirit with a loud noise came upon the little group of Galilean believers gathered in Jerusalem for Pentecost. Tongues of fires came to rest upon each of them, and they began to talk in other languages.

Gathered for the feast were people from every nation under the sun, speaking diverse languages. There were Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Judeans, Cappadocians, Asians, Phrygian, Pamphylians, Egyptians, Romans, Cretans and Arabs. When this greatly diverse throng heard the loud noise they gathered in a large crowd and were amazed at the little group of believers. They exclaimed, “These are all Galileans but we hear them preaching in our own native languages about the marvels of God” (Acts 2:9-11) Pentecost is about openness to diverse peoples.

It is also about openness to diverse gifts. In the second reading for Pentecost, Paul writes, “I would remind you that there are all different sorts of spiritual gifts, but it’s the same Spirit who gives them. There are all different kinds of service, but it is the same Spirit who is served. There are all different ways by which God works in our lives, but it is the same Spirit who is working.” (I Cor 12:4-6) Even the opening prayer for the Mass of Pentecost is about openness: “With the power of a mighty wind and by the flame of your wisdom open the horizons of our hearts and minds.”

Hearts and minds closed out of fear

But the gospel for Pentecost speaks about the horizons of hearts and minds closed by fear. John writes, “On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were gathered, out of fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, `Peace be with you.’” A week later the doors are still closed out of fear of the Jews.[3] ( Jn 20:19, 26)

Fear of Jews

That “fear of the Jews” would hang on for centuries right down to our very own times. Out of an inexplicable fear of Jews, German Nazis closed the horizons of their hearts and minds and refused to recognize Jews as human beings. On the eve of November 9, 1938, the Nazis rampaged through all of Germany and in one night destroyed 7000 Jewish businesses and burned down 191 synagogues. That night goes down in history as Krystallnacht -- The Night of the Shattered Glass. By the time the Nazis’ fear of Jews had expended itself, six million Jews had been offered as burnt offerings in the fiery furnaces of Auschwitz, Buchenwald and Dachau.

Fear of infidels

During the Dark Ages (5th to 11th century), Islam was the center of the universe. It eclipsed Europe in the fields of medicine, chemistry, mathematics, art, poetry, spirituality and physics. But for two centuries now Islam has been on the losing side of history because of all the modernization and secularization closing in on it from the West. Out of that fear, Islamic extremists closed the horizons of their hearts and minds to Western infidels. On 9/11, 2001, some of them drove two 747s as weapons of mass destruction into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan and turned three thousand innocent human beings into burnt offerings to Allah, Most Merciful.

Fear of Islamic extremists

At the Easter vigil on Saturday, March 22, 2008, in the great Basilica of Saint Peter in Rome, Pope Benedict XVI baptized Magdi Allam together with six other men and women from four continents. The event had the atmospherics of Pentecost.

Allam is a very well-known journalist in Italy and a convert from Islam. The pope baptized him Magdi Cristiano Allam. Very few realized the momentousness of that event. Very few realized what a towering figure was being baptized in that almost frail-looking man. Very few realized also what courage that baptism demanded on the part of both Allam and the Pope himself.

The Muslim media was angry at Allam for his traitorous conversion from Islam to Christianity, and equally angry at Pope Benedict for his “in your face” baptism of Allam in the great Basilica of St. Peter and at a peak moment in the church’s liturgical year – the Vigil of Easter. The international daily newspaper Al Quds al Arabi wrote: "The pope provokes the indignation of Muslims by baptizing an Egyptian journalist who attacks Islam and defends Israel." Another newspaper rumbled that Allam had added more fuel to the fire of the so-called clash of civilizations. Even some in the churchly camp rumbled. Fearing angry Muslims, some maintained that the baptism should have been done less spectacularly, sub secreto even, by a lay deacon in some subterraneous crypt with which Rome abounds.

Fearless Allam, however, has criticized the church for hesitating out of fear to baptize Muslim converts in those countries where apostasy from Islam is punished with death. He has also criticized the church in some Christian countries for fearfully keeping conversions from Islam secret. There was no secrecy in Rome on the Vigil of Easter and in the great Basilica of St. Peter’s, when Pope Benedict very publicly baptized Magdi Cristiano Allam in conspectu omnium. That was not an in-your-face act; that was a great act of courage for Allam and Benedict who overcame their fear of very angry Muslims.

Fear of women

TV’s coverage of the funeral Mass for Pope John Paul II in St. Peter’s Square in Rome, April 8, 2005, was, indeed, impressive. It took place before Pentecostal thongs and on a world stage where many hundreds of cardinals, bishops and priests ceremoniously paraded. Equally impressive was TV’s coverage of Pope Benedict’s recent visit to the USA, April 15-21, 2008. That event also took place on a world stage where again many hundreds of cardinals, bishops and priests ceremoniously paraded. Both of those magnificent all-male performances, however, fell short of Pentecost -- the feast of openness and inclusion. Both blatantly and substantially excluded women. Out of some inexplicable fear of women (who make up more than half of the human race) the church, and the society she reflects, find it difficult to meaningfully and substantially include women. The church thereby excludes the Holy Spirit of Pentecost and inclusion.

Magnificent all-male performances do not impress Barbara Marion Horn, a feisty lass from Ireland, who studied theology at St. Francis Seminary and Marquette University in Milwaukee. After attending an ordination Mass in St. John’s Cathedral some years ago, she wrote to Archbishop Weakland:

Your Excellency, the beauty of the music, the power of the liturgy and the ancient tradition of the laying on of hands, at moments, left me breathless. The palpable joy and strength of that occasion will always be with me. But, as is the case with a growing number of Catholics, a great sadness arose in my heart; a feeling of how wrong everything was amid the beauty, the power and the strength. The procession of male clergy across the altar reverberated throughout my body: the visible reminder that the oldest, deepest exclusion, the one we are all too accustomed to, is alive and well in the bosom of my faith community.

I believe with every fiber of my being that Pope John Paul II is profoundly convinced that Jesus did not, and therefore does not, welcome women as His apostles. I have no doubt that the Holy Father is sincere in his belief that the matter of opening all the doors of the church locked to women is not within his power. This grieves me greatly. I am convinced that if Jesus were at St. John’s last Saturday, he would have whipped through the place as he did with the money changers at the Temple on another Saturday.

Though Horn speaks her position clearly she is not a cantankerous feminist. She is, in fact, very gentle and loving. She concluded her letter saying,

My prayer is that this letter is received in the same spirit in which it is sent. Originally from the East coast, I am forever grateful to have landed in Milwaukee. This archdiocese has introduced me to a Catholic Church heretofore unknown. Sts. Peter & Paul Parish here has fed my hunger for Christian formation with their abundance of programs and a pastoral team including the likes of Monica Meagher and Fr. Jack Kern--people who believe in their parishioners. This is the neighborhood parish where I first personally encountered a Bishop with whom I have had many friendly and encouraging interactions. St. Francis Seminary educated and affirmed me in ways I never dreamed possible. At the present moment, All Saints Parish ministers to my need for [Pentecostal] diversity and gospel music. It is hard to be despondent or in doubt when singing full force "All is Well" and "God has Smiled on Me."

So here I am, simultaneously holding gratitude in one hand and deep discontent in the other. The real angst is this: we are Jesus' disciples. They will know we are Christians by our love, but where is there love in exclusion?

Fear of reformers

Out of fear of the Protestant Reformers in the 16th century the church summoned the Council of Trent and understandably wrote a theology of fear which locked up all church teachings in prisons of certainty. Then she threw away the keys for four hundred long years. That theology of fear reigned from Trent (1545-1563) up to Vatican II (1962-1965). But fear which hangs around for four hundred years eventually loses its edge. When the College of Cardinals elected Cardinal Angelo Roncalli as Pope John XXIII in 1958, the mood was right and the time was ripe for change. Good Pope John looked with compassion upon his church whose doors were locked out of fear of everything: fear of Jews, Protestants, non-Christians, atheists; fear also of the world itself, the changing times and new ideas. In January of 1959 John announced his intention to convoke an ecumenical council, and when it opened on October 11, 1962, he wished his fear-filled church the peace of Jesus.

Upon the early church trembling with fear behind locked doors Jesus wished peace not once, not twice, but three times (Jn 20:19, 21, 26). When Jesus wished peace! in his Hebrew language, he said Shalom! It is a very special Hebrew word, and it’s difficult to find a one-word translation to do it justice. In fact, the 70 men (Septuagint) who translated the Old Testament from Hebrew into Greek used 25 different Greek words in different places to express the many shades of Shalom. The word is so rich in meaning that it is almost better not to translate it but simply keep it as Shalom, and that is what we usually do.

Conclusion
Shalom’s command

Shalom – Peace - is not only a wish but also a command which we give to the people beside us in the pew at the Kiss of Peace at Mass, and they in turn give the command to us. Shalom - Peace - is a command to stop our worrying and fretting; a command to blow the air out of our lungs and calm down; a command to let go and let God. Shalom – Peace - is a command to lay aside the burning anger which consumes us. Shalom – Peace - is a command to cut down to size the molehills we have built up into mountains; a command to lay hold of a sense of proportion as we weep and wail over the price of gas at the pump at a time when a massively destructive cyclone in Myanmar has left 100,000 dead and 1.5 million in desperate need. Shalom – Peace - is a command to count our blessings. Shalom – Peace - is a command to sort things out and know what’s important and what’s not. Shalom – Peace - is a command to name the fear that keeps us locked up in prisons of certainty and to open the horizons of our hearts and minds.



Shalom! Peace!

PENTECOST
Acts 2:1-11 I Corinthians 12:4-6 John 20:19-23

To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]

Introduction
Pentecost: a Jewish harvest feast
After his resurrection, Jesus appeared to the apostles from time to time in human form for forty days. Then promising to send them the Holy Spirit He ascended into heaven. (Acts 1:3; Lk 24:49) Originally, Pentecost (a Greek word meaning fiftieth day) was a Jewish harvest feast which took place on the fiftieth day after Passover. A devout Jew was then expected to make a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem to give thanks for the harvest. On the occasion of this harvest feast, Jesus fulfilled His promise to send the Holy Spirit. It was, indeed, a harvest feast for the first believers; they reaped nothing less than the Holy Spirit.

Pentecost: the summit of the cycle
With Pentecost we reach the summit of the liturgical cycle which began with the Son’s descent to earth in the Christmas season. It continued with the Son’s ascent back to the Father in heaven through death, resurrection and ascension. The cycle now peaks with the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost.

With Pentecost we conclude the Easter season. The Paschal candle is blown out. Its prominence is downgraded to a less conspicuous spot near the baptismal font, and we return to Ordinary Time with its color green. We will coast along in green through the warm summer months until November 30, 2008, when we will start the cycle all over again with the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2008.
The openness of Pentecost
The first reading for Pentecost relates how the Holy Spirit with a loud noise came upon the little group of Galilean believers gathered in Jerusalem for Pentecost. Tongues of fires came to rest upon each of them, and they began to talk in other languages.

Gathered for the feast were people from every nation under the sun, speaking diverse languages. There were Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Mesopotamians, Judeans, Cappadocians, Asians, Phrygian, Pamphylians, Egyptians, Romans, Cretans and Arabs. When this greatly diverse throng heard the loud noise they gathered in a large crowd and were amazed at the little group of believers. They exclaimed, “These are all Galileans but we hear them preaching in our own native languages about the marvels of God” (Acts 2:9-11) Pentecost is about openness to diverse peoples.

It is also about openness to diverse gifts. In the second reading for Pentecost, Paul writes, “I would remind you that there are all different sorts of spiritual gifts, but it’s the same Spirit who gives them. There are all different kinds of service, but it is the same Spirit who is served. There are all different ways by which God works in our lives, but it is the same Spirit who is working.” (I Cor 12:4-6) Even the opening prayer for the Mass of Pentecost is about openness: “With the power of a mighty wind and by the flame of your wisdom open the horizons of our hearts and minds.”

Hearts and minds closed out of fear
But the gospel for Pentecost speaks about the horizons of hearts and minds closed by fear. John writes, “On the evening of that first day of the week, when the doors were locked, where the disciples were gathered, out of fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, `Peace be with you.’” A week later the doors are still closed out of fear of the Jews.[3] ( Jn 20:19, 26)

Fear of Jews
That “fear of the Jews” would hang on for centuries right down to our very own times. Out of an inexplicable fear of Jews, German Nazis closed the horizons of their hearts and minds and refused to recognize Jews as human beings. On the eve of November 9, 1938, the Nazis rampaged through all of Germany and in one night destroyed 7000 Jewish businesses and burned down 191 synagogues. That night goes down in history as Krystallnacht -- The Night of the Shattered Glass. By the time the Nazis’ fear of Jews had expended itself, six million Jews had been offered as burnt offerings in the fiery furnaces of Auschwitz, Buchenwald and Dachau.

Fear of infidels
During the Dark Ages (5th to 11th century), Islam was the center of the universe. It eclipsed Europe in the fields of medicine, chemistry, mathematics, art, poetry, spirituality and physics. But for two centuries now Islam has been on the losing side of history because of all the modernization and secularization closing in on it from the West. Out of that fear, Islamic extremists closed the horizons of their hearts and minds to Western infidels. On 9/11, 2001, some of them drove two 747s as weapons of mass destruction into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan and turned three thousand innocent human beings into burnt offerings to Allah, Most Merciful.


Fear of Islamic extremists
At the Easter vigil on Saturday, March 22, 2008, in the great Basilica of Saint Peter in Rome, Pope Benedict XVI baptized Magdi Allam together with six other men and women from four continents. The event had the atmospherics of Pentecost.

Allam is a very well-known journalist in Italy and a convert from Islam. The pope baptized him Magdi Cristiano Allam. Very few realized the momentousness of that event. Very few realized what a towering figure was being baptized in that almost frail-looking man. Very few realized also what courage that baptism demanded on the part of both Allam and the Pope himself.

The Muslim media was angry at Allam for his traitorous conversion from Islam to Christianity, and equally angry at Pope Benedict for his “in your face” baptism of Allam in the great Basilica of St. Peter and at a peak moment in the church’s liturgical year – the Vigil of Easter. The international daily newspaper Al Quds al Arabi wrote: "The pope provokes the indignation of Muslims by baptizing an Egyptian journalist who attacks Islam and defends Israel." Another newspaper rumbled that Allam had added more fuel to the fire of the so-called clash of civilizations. Even some in the churchly camp rumbled. Fearing angry Muslims, some maintained that the baptism should have been done less spectacularly, sub secreto even, by a lay deacon in some subterraneous crypt with which Rome abounds.

Fearless Allam, however, has criticized the church for hesitating out of fear to baptize Muslim converts in those countries where apostasy from Islam is punished with death. He has also criticized the church in some Christian countries for fearfully keeping conversions from Islam secret. There was no secrecy in Rome on the Vigil of Easter and in the great Basilica of St. Peter’s, when Pope Benedict very publicly baptized Magdi Cristiano Allam in conspectu omnium. That was not an in-your-face act; that was a great act of courage for Allam and Benedict who overcame their fear of very angry Muslims.


Fear of women
TV’s coverage of the funeral Mass for Pope John Paul II in St. Peter’s Square in Rome, April 8, 2005, was, indeed, impressive. It took place before Pentecostal thongs and on a world stage where many hundreds of cardinals, bishops and priests ceremoniously paraded. Equally impressive was TV’s coverage of Pope Benedict’s recent visit to the USA, April 15-21, 2008. That event also took place on a world stage where again many hundreds of cardinals, bishops and priests ceremoniously paraded. Both of those magnificent all-male performances, however, fell short of Pentecost -- the feast of openness and inclusion. Both blatantly and substantially excluded women. Out of some inexplicable fear of women (who make up more than half of the human race) the church, and the society she reflects, find it difficult to meaningfully and substantially include women. The church thereby excludes the Holy Spirit of Pentecost and inclusion.

Magnificent all-male performances do not impress Barbara Marion Horn, a feisty lass from Ireland, who studied theology at St. Francis Seminary and Marquette University in Milwaukee. After attending an ordination Mass in St. John’s Cathedral some years ago, she wrote to Archbishop Weakland:

Your Excellency, the beauty of the music, the power of the liturgy and the ancient tradition of the laying on of hands, at moments, left me breathless. The palpable joy and strength of that occasion will always be with me. But, as is the case with a growing number of Catholics, a great sadness arose in my heart; a feeling of how wrong everything was amid the beauty, the power and the strength. The procession of male clergy across the altar reverberated throughout my body: the visible reminder that the oldest, deepest exclusion, the one we are all too accustomed to, is alive and well in the bosom of my faith community.

I believe with every fiber of my being that Pope John Paul II is profoundly convinced that Jesus did not, and therefore does not, welcome women as His apostles. I have no doubt that the Holy Father is sincere in his belief that the matter of opening all the doors of the church locked to women is not within his power. This grieves me greatly. I am convinced that if Jesus were at St. John’s last Saturday, he would have whipped through the place as he did with the money changers at the Temple on another Saturday.

Though Horn speaks her position clearly she is not a cantankerous feminist. She is, in fact, very gentle and loving. She concluded her letter saying,

My prayer is that this letter is received in the same spirit in which it is sent. Originally from the East coast, I am forever grateful to have landed in Milwaukee. This archdiocese has introduced me to a Catholic Church heretofore unknown. Sts. Peter & Paul Parish here has fed my hunger for Christian formation with their abundance of programs and a pastoral team including the likes of Monica Meagher and Fr. Jack Kern--people who believe in their parishioners. This is the neighborhood parish where I first personally encountered a Bishop with whom I have had many friendly and encouraging interactions. St. Francis Seminary educated and affirmed me in ways I never dreamed possible. At the present moment, All Saints Parish ministers to my need for [Pentecostal] diversity and gospel music. It is hard to be despondent or in doubt when singing full force "All is Well" and "God has Smiled on Me."

So here I am, simultaneously holding gratitude in one hand and deep discontent in the other. The real angst is this: we are Jesus' disciples. They will know we are Christians by our love, but where is there love in exclusion?




Fear of reformers
Out of fear of the Protestant Reformers in the 16th century the church summoned the Council of Trent and understandably wrote a theology of fear which locked up all church teachings in prisons of certainty. Then she threw away the keys for four hundred long years. That theology of fear reigned from Trent (1545-1563) up to Vatican II (1962-1965). But fear which hangs around for four hundred years eventually loses its edge. When the College of Cardinals elected Cardinal Angelo Roncalli as Pope John XXIII in 1958, the mood was right and the time was ripe for change. Good Pope John looked with compassion upon his church whose doors were locked out of fear of everything: fear of Jews, Protestants, non-Christians, atheists; fear also of the world itself, the changing times and new ideas. In January of 1959 John announced his intention to convoke an ecumenical council, and when it opened on October 11, 1962, he wished his fear-filled church the peace of Jesus.

Upon the early church trembling with fear behind locked doors Jesus wished peace not once, not twice, but three times (Jn 20:19, 21, 26). When Jesus wished peace! in his Hebrew language, he said Shalom! It is a very special Hebrew word, and it’s difficult to find a one-word translation to do it justice. In fact, the 70 men (Septuagint) who translated the Old Testament from Hebrew into Greek used 25 different Greek words in different places to express the many shades of Shalom. The word is so rich in meaning that it is almost better not to translate it but simply keep it as Shalom, and that is what we usually do.

Conclusion
Shalom’s command
Shalom – Peace - is not only a wish but also a command which we give to the people beside us in the pew at the Kiss of Peace at Mass, and they in turn give the command to us. Shalom - Peace - is a command to stop our worrying and fretting; a command to blow the air out of our lungs and calm down; a command to let go and let God. Shalom – Peace - is a command to lay aside the burning anger which consumes us. Shalom – Peace - is a command to cut down to size the molehills we have built up into mountains; a command to lay hold of a sense of proportion as we weep and wail over the price of gas at the pump at a time when a massively destructive cyclone in Myanmar has left 100,000 dead and 1.5 million in desperate need. Shalom – Peace - is a command to count our blessings. Shalom – Peace - is a command to sort things out and know what’s important and what’s not. Shalom – Peace - is a command to name the fear that keeps us locked up in prisons of certainty and to open the horizons of our hearts and minds.

[1]By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!

[2] Acts of the Apostles 17:24

[3] Scholars now point out that “for fear of the Jews” should be understood as “for fear of the Jewish authorities.” Such understanding can correct the anti-Semitism which lurks in a careless reading of John’s gospel.