Bailing out Christmas 2008 - 1st Sunday of Advent

Bailing out Christmas 2008
Nov. 30, 2008, 1st Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 45:8; 63:19 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 Mark 13: 33-37

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

First reading from the prophet Isaiah
Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above, and let the clouds rain down the Just One.[3] Oh, that You, oh Lord, would tear the heavens open and come down, as the mountains quake before You.

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Mark 13:33-37
Glory to you, Lord.

Jesus said to his disciples: “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come. It is like a man traveling abroad. He leaves home and places his servants in charge, each with his own work, and orders the gatekeeper to be on the watch. Watch, therefore; you do not know when the Lord of the house is coming, whether in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning. May he not come suddenly and find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to all: Watch!”

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

Introduction
The church’s new year

Today we exit Ordinary Time and enter into the Extraordinary Time of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2008. Today is New Years Day in the church. Today we go from liturgical cycle A (which takes the gospel readings from Matthew) to cycle B (which takes the readings from Mark). Today we also change the color of the liturgical vestments from the green of Ordinary Time to purple – the liturgical color for penance. (In some places, blue vestments instead of purple are worn in honor of mother Mary and baby-boy Jesus.) The purple is a leftover from pre-Vatican II days when Advent, like Lent, was strictly a penitential season which frowned upon all partying, gift-giving and decorating before the 24th of December. In this new day after Vatican II, Advent is now declared to be “a season of joyful expectation. “

How is it possible that a season, declared penitential for centuries, is now suddenly declared to be “a season of joyful expectation”? It’s not really a matter of either or: either a penitential spirit or joyful expectation. Rather it is a mix of both. Let the first part of Advent be imbued with a somber, thoughtful and prayerful spirit, as are the scriptural readings at Mass these days. Then let the second part which begins with the Novena of Christmas on the 17th of December be a season of joyful expectation. Then let the partying and gift-giving begin.

The darkness of December 2008

Here it is the 30th of November, 2008. In this hemisphere, winter begins on the 21st of December which will be the 4th Sunday of Advent this year. December 21st is the shortest day of the year, having only nine hours of light and fifteen long hours of darkness. The darkness of winter always magnifies all our worries and fears, which are reduced to size by a bright summer day. And the cold of winter always intensifies our aches and pains, which are soothed by the kind kiss of the summer sun.

The physical darkness of winter is compounded these days by the psychological darkness caused by the never-ending wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and by the threat of terrorism hanging over our heads 24/7. Added to all that is the present economic meltdown which is bringing this old year of 2008 to a very dismal close. People are worried about their 401(k) s.[4] Some economists are telling us we’re at the beginning of a depression like the Great Depression of the 1930s.

For some the darkness of winter and the gloom of the economy are overshadowed at this time of the rolling year by some deep personal fear, suffering or loss. Some, for example, have received a chilling verdict from their doctor. Some have been plunged into an inconsolable grief by a sudden and senseless tragedy. Still others grieve over the loss of a pet which loved them unconditionally as no human being ever loved them, and which they, in turn, loved as much as they loved any family member. And then there are those who grieve over the recent loss of a beloved spouse of 30, 40, 50 years, and who now feel that half of themselves is gone. You hear it said and sung these days, “It’s the jolliest time of the year.” I always swim upstream on that one. For a good number of people it’s also the saddest time of the year.

Lamp- lighting time for Christians and Jews

No wonder the human family, in the darkness of the human situation lights lamps with a kind of vengeance at this time of the rolling year. Today, the 30th of November, 2008, the first Sunday of Advent, the Christian community lights the first of the four candles on the Advent wreath. Each week we light another candle to dispel the darkness (particularly intense this year) and to grow the light. Christmas is our Feast of Lights.

This year on 22nd of December, 2008, the Jewish community lights the first of the eight candles on their menorah candelabra, as they begin to celebrate Hanukkah. In Hebrew Hanukkah simply means rededication. The feast commemorates the purification of the temple in Jerusalem and its rededication, after the Greek tyrant Antiochus Epiphanes desecrated it in 161 B. C. On the site of the altar of holocausts he had built a pagan altar and offered a pagan sacrifice to the Greek god Zeus Olympios. The prophet Daniel and St. Matthew refer to this profanation as "the horrible abomination standing in the holy place.” (Dn 9:27; Mt 24:15) Three years later, Judas Maccabeus purified the sanctuary, erected a new altar, and undertook to rededicate the temple.

According to a story told and retold in the Jewish community no consecrated olive oil could be found to keep the temple menorah burning through the eight days of rededication. The temple menorah is the seven branch candelabra prescribed by Moses as temple furniture (Exodus 25:31-32). After diligently scouring the temple, Judas Maccabeus finally found a small jug of oil still with the high priest's seal intact, and therefore not contaminated by the enemy. But there wasn’t enough oil in the jug to last through the eight days of rededication.

Then a miracle happened! God caused the little amount of oil in the jug to continue supplying fuel for the temple menorah throughout the long rite of rededication. In gratitude, Judas Maccabeus, his brothers and all people of Israel decided that the rededication of the temple should be commemorated yearly for eight days with joy and thanksgiving (I Mc 4:59; II Mc 10:5) St. John is referring to Hanukkah when he writes, “The time came to celebrate the Feast of Dedication in Jerusalem, and it was winter.” (Jn 10:22) Through eight days the Jewish community lights one candle after the other. Hanukkah[5] is their Feast of Lights.

Hanukah gone astray

Johannes Buxtorf II (1599-1664), a Protestant Hebrew scholar, who perhaps was tainted with a good dab of anti-Semitism, often criticized the way the Jewish community celebrated their feast days. Writing of Hanukkah he describes how they strayed far from the feast’s original inspiration, and overlaid it with superstition and pettiness. He writes,

They celebrate Hanukkah more by eating, drinking and having fun than by giving
thanks to God for their victory over the enemy. They prepare a seven-branch
menorah and then light one light each day until the eighth night. The lights
are not allowed to burn all night long. While they are burning no one is allowed
to do any work in the house. The menorah itself must stand on the right side of
the door, not less than ten paces from the ground, and not higher than twenty.
The Jews often hold subtle and futile discussions on how long the lights should
burn, who should light them, whether or not it is permitted to light one light
with the other, and similar things.

Buxtorf concludes his criticism of their observance of their Feast of Lights, saying,

“They are very fussy about the outer light but are not concerned about the great
darkness which abides in their hearts!”[6] The feast celebrating the rededication of the temple was
itself in need of a rededication!

Christmas gone astray

Christians should talk! Our Christmas, like Buxtorf’s Hanukkah, has also strayed. It also is in need of a rededication to its original inspiration -- a Babe born in Bethlehem, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. (Lk 2:10-12) Many of us feel in our hearts of hearts that our observance of Christmas has become an overkill and needs a rededication. The overkill is about a series of Christmas parties to throw, a number of pricey gifts to buy, a long list of cards to write, an expensive holiday trip to take and sumptuous holiday tables to set. The overkill is about a whole list of stuff which entraps the credit-card holder and makes Christmas not only a very jolly time of the year but also a very expensive one, which many can’t afford. This is particularly true these days, as a great economical meltdown is bringing the curtains down on the last hours of 2008.

The meltdown could be the providentially appointed moment to turn ourselves and those around us, especially our kids, to a rededication of Christmas. It could actually prove to be a blessing; it could help lead us and our kids out of Christmas as an orgy and brings us back to Bethlehem where a Babe is born, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. At the end of the day, Christmas as an orgy (which begins even before Thanksgiving Day itself!) leaves us feeling empty and even depressed as we defrock the tree on Dec. 26 and throw it out on the curb.

Thanksgiving on course

Last Thursday the nation celebrated its most cherished feast --Thanksgiving. While Hanukkah and Christmas have gone astray, Thanksgiving, on the other hand, has always been on course. It has always remained faithful to its original and simple inspiration: giving thanks at the family table. Thanksgiving still sends us over the river and through the woods to grandma’s house, loaded down with no other gift than ourselves. It still gathers sons and daughter around the paternal table to give thanks not for hi-tech toys but for the basic blessings of life: family and friends to embrace us, a roof over our heads to shelter us, a warm bed to sleep in and food aplenty to eat. Thanksgiving remains true even to the traditional menu itself: turkey (whether you like turkey or not), cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie and sweet potatoes.

A story to bailout Christmas 2008

As the curtain goes down on the dark days of 2008, people are worried about a depression like that of the 1930s, and they feel constrained now to tighten their belts for the lean Christmas and new year ahead. Top congressional hearings are being held at this moment to determine which sectors of the economy should or should not be bailed out with $700,000,000,000 of the people’s money.[7]

This is the season for telling stories. Here is a story to bail us and our kids out of these dark days and the lean Christmas ahead. It was written by a Presbyterian missionary lady, and it appeared in a Presbyterian magazine a good quarter of a century ago. Its poignancy makes it easy to recall every holiday season.

Once I was in a remote village of India and the congregation was gathered in a
schoolroom for worship. From one wall a faded picture of Ghandi smiled down
benignly. There was no minister. The school teacher read the Scriptures and led
in the long, long Tamil hymns. At the end of the service there was a stir in the
rear of the room and a young woman slipped forward -- a girl she was really - -
thin and shy. She carried a tiny baby, surely not more than a day old. As she
approached the battered desk that served as an altar table, she reached into the
folds of her sari and drew out a single egg. With utmost care she laid it on the
table and bowed her head. "For the birth of her child," whispered the teacher to
me. "It's her thank-offering to God."

An egg! Not a coin, but a life-sustaining egg! The diet of the Indian villager is notoriously deficient in protein. This woman needs this egg, I thought. In the economy of her village, this one egg costs a woman like her about three hours on the road or in the fields. Even if she is lucky enough to own hens, she sells their few eggs and buys rice to fill the stomachs of her family. A single egg -- a worthy and
sacrificial offering.

Conclusion
A solitary egg!

That missionary lady continued,

So this holiday season, as we prepare our 18 pound turkey, stuffing, sweet
potatoes, peas, cranberry sauce and mincemeat pie at Thanksgiving, as we festoon
the trees with tinsel and lights or wearily shop for gifts or scowl at the
assault of canned Christmas carols on our ears, [as we walk through the shopping
malls with crests fallen because of the economic meltdown], I shall remember a
solitary egg [and I shall count my blessings even in these hard times]. (A.D.
Magazine for Dec. 1974)

[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] The Latin is: Rorate caeli desuper et nubes pluant Justum (Isaiah 45:8). That is the opening line of an ancient Gregorian hymn. Its melody is second to none, and its lyrics put everyone in a good frame of mind in preparation for Christmas.

[4] A 401(k) plan allows a worker to save for retirement while deferring income taxes on the saved money and earnings until withdrawal.

[5] While the temple menorah had seven candles, the Hanukkah menorah has nine. It has eight candles for the eight days of Rededication, and then it has a ninth candle -- a taller central candle called the Shamash. The central candle is used for profane purposes like lighting other lamps throughout the house or lighting the fire in the hearth. Israeli Jews call the nine-branch menorah a hanukkiah.

[6] Synagoga Judaica by Johannes Buxtorf II

[7] The 7 hundred billion dollar US Treasury bailout is called TARP: Troubled Assets Relief Program.

Feast of Christ the King

(Pope John XX1II, b. Nov. 25, 1881 -- d. June 3, 1963)

King According to John XXIII

November 23, 2008, Feast of Christ the King
Ezekiel 34:11-12, 15-17 I Cor. 15:20-26, 28 Matthew 25:31-46

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

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.

Jesus said to his disciples: When the Son of Man comes in his glory,and all the angels with him, he will sit upon his glorious throne, and all the nations will be assembled before him. And he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. Then the king will say to those on his right, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me.”

Then the righteous will answer him and say, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? When did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? When did we see you ill or in prison, and visit you?” And the king will say to them in reply, “Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of the least brothers of mine, you did for me.” Then he will say to those on his left, “Depart from me, you accursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, a stranger and you gave me no welcome, naked and you gave me no clothing, ill and in prison, and you did not care for me.” Then they will answer and say, “Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or ill or in prison, and not minister to your needs?” He will answer them, “Amen, I say to you, what you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me.” And these will go off to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.

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

Introduction
The end of the year

Today we arrive at the end of the church’s liturgical year. After having celebrated all the feasts of Our Lord and His saints through 52 weeks, the church crowns her fast-departing old year with a feast in honor of Christ the King. Next Sunday is New Years Day in the church with the arrival of the first Sunday of Advent in preparation for Christmas 2008.

A recent feast

Pope Pius XI instituted the feast of Christ the King as recently as 1925.[3] At that time, the pope was battling various kings and kingdoms. He was fighting anticlericalism in Mexico and the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. In his own backyard, he was contending with the Italian State which had wrested Italy back from the popes. The newly instituted feast seemed to say, “We have a King who is greater than all kings, and whose kingdom is more blessed than theirs. He is Jesus of Nazareth -- the ‘King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.’” (Rev 19:26)

This late November feast might be a bit superfluous. Already in early spring, there’s a feast honoring Christ as King. On Palm Sunday, the church cries out, "Hosanna to the Son of David! O King of Israel, hosanna in the highest!" Holy Week is a better context for the kingship of Christ. It sets Jesus upon an ass and not upon a throne. It places a palm branch in his hand and not a scepter. It plants a wreath of thorns upon his head and not a tiara. The Passion read on Palm Sunday sets the records straight for anyone who wants to build an earthly kingdom for Jesus. "My kingdom,” Jesus tells them, “is not of this world." (Jn 18:36)

A long list of rogue kings

The human race has a long history of rogue kings and dictators who exercised lethal authority over others. Back in Jesus’ day, King Herod, leery about Jesus the new-born king of the Jews, slew all baby boys two years and younger to make sure he had eliminated a threat to his throne. (Mt 2:2-16) In the first half of the twentieth century, Hitler gassed and starved to death six million Jews in the concentration camps of Dachau, Auschwitz and Buchenwald. In the second half of the twentieth century Saddam Hussein, who lived as a king in eight palaces before he ended up hiding in a hole in the ground, dotted the landscape of Iraq with kingly statues of himself, and he filled the dumps with the remains of people who did not want him as king. At the moment, the Islamic president of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, ominously promises that “Israel must be wiped off the map.”

However we might feel about kings, Scripture is clear: Jesus is a king. He is a king as He comes into the world and as He leaves it. At His conception the angel Gabriel announces to Mary that the Lord God would give her Son the throne of David, His father, and His kingdom would have no end. (Lk 1:33) At His trial the Roman governor Pontius Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you a king?” Jesus answers, “Yes, for this I was born, and for this I came into the world.” (Jn 18:37) Accordingly, a gang of Roman soldiers concocted a crown of thorns and pressed it down on Jesus’ head (Mt 27:29). Then they forced Him to climb the hill of Calvary and nailed Him to a cross. On it they hung an inscription over head written in Hebrew, Greek and Latin.

King on the Hill in the early church

Before the days when kids had money to buy hi-tech games, they had to invent their own games. They invented Hop-scotch, Kick the Can and King on the Hill. This last game fed into our innate yen to overcome and lord it over others. In that game you stood on top of a raft or a mound or any kind of a height, and you drove down anyone trying to get to the top. Whoever managed to get to the top and unseat the occupant proclaimed himself king.

Not only kids but also full-grown people, even great religions like Christianity and Islam like to play the game. The Christian church started playing King on the Hill already in the early third century when St. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, claimed that “extra ecclesiam nulla salus” – that “outside the church there is no salvation.” Cyrian’s famous dictum was probably not much more than a comment made off the top of his head, but it stuck. And for centuries it launched the church off into a vigorous but dubitable pursuit of man’s salvation.

It is noteworthy that Judaism does not claim that outside the synagogue there is no salvation. The Talmud, for example, says that all righteous people of any religion, who observe the basic laws of morality, are saved. That’s a relativist approach to religion. It says, “I have my faith, you have your faith, and others have their faith.” On the other hand, there is the triumphalist approach to religion. That’s the approach of Christianity claiming outside the church there is no salvation. That’s also the approach of Islam claiming outside the mosque there is no salvation. Bernard Lewis[4] says that that approach has Christianity and Islam shouting at each other, “I’m right, you’re wrong, go to hell!”

Lewis admits, however, that the triumphalist approach is increasingly under attack in Christendom and is rejected now by many Christian clergymen. But there is very little sign that anything like that is happening in Islam. The apocalyptic event of 9/11, 2001, in which two 747s brought down the Twin Towers in Lower Manhattan and three thousand innocent human beings was not politically motivated; it was religiously motivated. It was a stout proclamation that “Outside the mosque there is no salvation!”

King on the hill in the church today

In 2000, Cardinal Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI) as Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith issued a 36-page document entitled Dominus Iesus (Jesus the Lord). It warned Catholics not to water down the very extraordinary uniqueness of Jesus when dealing with Buddhism and Hinduism. In dialoguing with non-Catholic Christian churches, the document also warned Catholics not to water down the extraordinary uniqueness of the Catholic Church. The document, heavy with ponderous theology, was disheartening for ecumenists who for thirty years were laboriously building bridges. At times it seemed arrogant and condescending in such remarks as, “Though non-Catholic churches suffer from defects, they by no means have been deprived of significance and importance in the mystery of salvation.”

In 2007, Pope Benedict approved a document which restated the key sections of Dominus Iesus. The Rev. Sara MacVane of the Anglican Center in Rome said there was nothing new in the new document, and she did not know what motivated it. She pointed out, however, that there is the official position which likes to play king, and there is also an unofficial position which is infused with a spirit of fellowship with others, and which even worships with others. This is certainly true, she said, between Anglicans and Catholics and also between other groups and Catholics.

Do you know what Jesus does every time we try to play King on the Hill in His name? He hides Himself from us! After He multiplied the loaves and fishes, the fervent crowds wanted to seize Jesus and make Him king. Scripture says, “Jesus fled from them and went alone into the mountains and hid himself.” (Jn 6: 15)

The birthday of a great man

Next Tuesday, November 25, is the birthday of a great man who was born poor like Jesus, 107 years ago in 1881. Many of us senior citizens were his contemporaries and remember him with very deep affection. His name was Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli. He was born in a little Italian village called Bergamo Sotto il Monte (Bergamo at the Foot of the Mountain). Though born at the foot of the hill, he made it to the top. On October 28, 1958, Cardinal Roncalli was elected pope and took the name of John XXIII. On November 4, the day of his coronation, a tiara was placed upon his head. In his homily that day the new pope said that he had in mind for his pontificate the example of the Good Shepherd who came not to be served as kings are served but to serve.

The next day after his coronation, he sped off through elaborate Vatican gates to serve. He visited aging brother priests in nursing homes. He visited inmates in the nearby Regina Coeli Prison along the Tiber. “I come to you,” he told them, “because you couldn’t come to me.” When he celebrated his first Holy Thursday as pope, he revived an ancient custom of the church. Like Jesus John girded himself with a towel and bent down to wash the feet of 13 young priests. That rite had fallen into disuse for many centuries, and the disuse itself was symptomatic of a prevailing institutional attitude.

Conclusion
We remain in the church

Pope John’s example emanating from the lofty throne of Peter drew the whole church and world. It evidently drew Patricia Sitkins of Linden, California, who speaks of herself and her family as Catholics “who have drifted away from the church since the death of Pope John XXIII.” It drew Morris West, an Australian writer (1916-1999) famous especially for his books The Devil’s Advocate and The Shoes of the Fisherman. In A View from the Ridge he writes, “I believe I can say with certainty that I remained in communion with the Church even when the Church itself excluded me[5], and I remain there still, principally because of the presence of John XXIII, the Good Pastor, whom I never met, though I did meet his predecessor (Pius XII) and his successor (John Paul II). Goodness went out from this man to me. I acknowledged it then. I acknowledge it again.”

Many of us feel the same as Morris West did. We joyfully and hopefully remain in the church because of the witness of Pope John, the Good Pastor. And we remain in the church also because of a great cloud of other witnesses (Heb 12:1) like St. Francis of Assisi, Father Damien of Molokai, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Archbishop Hunthausen of Seattle, Bishop Kenneth Untener of Saginaw, Auxiliary Bishop Gumbleton of Detroit, Swiss theologian Father Hans Küng, Sister Joan Chittister, Father Geoffrey Farrow and a whole constellation of other witnesses.
All of them are true sons and daughters of the church. All of them were mysteriously begotten by the very church they took to task. “Therefore, surrounded as we are by such a great cloud of witnesses, we lay aside every weight and sin that easily entangles our feet. And we run with patient endurance the race that lies before us.” (Hebrew 12:1)

[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] In his encyclical Quas Primas (December 11, 1925) Pope Pius XI promulgated the Feast of Christ the King.

[4] Bernard Lewis (born May 31, 1916 in London, England) is a British-American historian, Orientalist, and political commentator.

[5] Though West was and always remained a Catholic, his various writings contain a good deal of criticism about the church, and the church was not always pleased with him.

Dedication of St. John Lateran

Dedication of St. John Lateran
OMNIUM ECCLESIARUM MATER ET CAPUT
"Mother and Head of All the Churches”

Nov. 9, 2008, Feast of St. John Lateran
Ezekiel 47:1-12 I Corinthians 3:9-17 John 2:13-22

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

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to John
Glory to you, Lord.

Since the Passover of the Jews was near, Jesus went up to Jerusalem.In the temple area there were merchants selling oxen, sheep, and doves. There were also the money-changers at their stalls. He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area, with the sheep and oxen, and He scattered the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. He yelled at those selling doves and commanded them saying, “Get them out of here, and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.” His disciples recalled the words of Scripture, Zeal for your house will consume me. At this the Jews answered and said to Him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?” Jesus said to them, “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.” The Jews said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and you will raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking about the temple of his Body. Therefore, when he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this, and they came to believe the Scripture and Jesus’ words.

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

Introduction
History of the feast

St. John Lateran was once a royal palace and basilica which belonged to the Roman Emperor Constantine and his family. After his conversion to Christianity in 313 A. D., the Emperor gave the palace and adjacent basilica to Pope Miltiades (311-314). His successor, Pope Sylvester I (314-335), as bishop of Rome, dedicated the basilica as his cathedral church on November 9, 324.

The palace and adjacent basilica became the cathedral church and residence of the popes from the fourth to the fourteen century, when the popes went into exile in Avignon, France (1304-1377). Built on land owned by the Laterani family and dedicated to John the Baptist, the basilica was called St. John Lateran. In the course of time, it became the venue for five ecumenical councils.

When, however, the popes returned from exile in Avignon, they found St. John Lateran in such disrepair they decided to move to St. Peter's Basilica (also a gift from Constantine) which until then had served primarily as a pilgrimage church. The popes now reside at the Vatican, and since the fifteenth century, St. Peter's Basilica hosts almost all important papal ceremonies. Every year, however, the pope goes back to his cathedral church, St. John Lateran, to celebrate the feast of the Lord’s Last Supper on Holy Thursday.

As the cathedral church of the pope (who is the bishop of Rome) St. John Lateran ranks first among the great basilicas of Rome, even before St. Peter’s. A Latin inscription on its facade proudly proclaims:

Omnium Urbis et Orbis Ecclesiarum Mater et Caput
Mother and Head of all the Churches in the City [Rome] and the World.

That lengthy explanation is for many of us who wonder why the church proposes that we celebrate the dedication of a church which most of us have never seen and will never see -- a dedication which took place sixteen hundred years ago in far-off Rome.

Since Nov. 9 (the date of the ancient dedication) lands this year on a Sunday, the feast of John Lateran replaces what would normally be the 32nd Sunday of Ordinary Time.

A spiritual twist

St. John Lateran, like St. Peter’s Basilica, is a marvelous temple built by human hands working in stone, brick and mortar. The prayer and readings today, however, give a strange spiritual twist to the idea of temple; they speak of a temple not built by human hands. In the opening prayer we pray, “God, our Father, from us as living stones you built an eternal temple to your glory.” In the second reading Paul writes, “Brother and sisters, do you not know you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” (I Cor. 3:9, 16)

Jesus and the temple

The spiritualization of the temple continues in the gospel today. With zeal for His Father's house in His heart and a whip of cord in His hand, Jesus drives the money‑changers and vendors out of the temple built by human hands. When asked by what authority He does such things, He cryptically replies, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will rebuild it." (Jn 2:19) Rebuild it in three days! My gosh! It took l0, 000 men to build the temple. It took 1000 priests as masons to construct its sacred sections. It took 46 years to complete it.[3] How could Jesus possibly rebuild it in three days! Scripture says He was not speaking about a temple made by human hands but about the temple of his body. (Jn 2:23‑21)

Jesus again spiritualizes the idea of temple when He and the Samaritan woman are having an argument about whose temple was better: her temple built on Mt Gerizim or His built in Jerusalem. Jesus assures her, “Believe me, woman, the time is coming and is already here, when real worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth. (Jn 4:1-42)

St. Stephen and the temple

That same spiritual twist to the idea of temple is found also in Acts. Just before being stoned to death, St. Stephen concludes a long hefty speech to the High Priest, saying,
King David found favor with God and asked God to allow him to build a house for the God of Jacob, though it was not David who actually built a house for God but Solomon. However, I tell you [ High Priest] the Most High God does not live in a house built by human hands; for as the prophet says, “The heavens are my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What house could you possibly build Me?” (Acts 7:48‑49; Is 66:1)]

At the end of the day, Scripture’s spiritual twist to the temple betrays a dissatisfaction with all temples and churches built by human hands – a dissatisfaction with the basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome, Italy and with the Crystal Cathedral in Garden Grove, California.

Reformers and the church

The Reformers of the 16th century were not only dissatisfied with the church built by Rome, they were also downright angry at it. They were angry at it for its money‑changers and vendors. More theologically, they were angry at it for selling good works instead of the saving blood of Jesus. So the Reformers, like Jesus Himself, spiritualized the idea of church. The true church of Christ, they said, is not some visible institution built by human hands. It is not constructed out of human teachings, creeds and laws. At heart, they said, it is the assembly of all those who believe they are saved not by good works but by the precious blood of Jesus. That, of course, spiritualizes the church, for belief is invisible and spiritual.

Others, less attached to Reformation theology, spiritualize the church as simply the assembly of those who believe in the blessed words and deeds of Jesus of Nazareth. It is not necessary for them go to a church built by human hands. Many of them, in fact, do not go regularly to any church. Many of our sons and daughters, who no longer sit with us at Sunday Mass, belong to that invisible and spiritual church. If they go to church at all, it is at Christmas and Easter, and with that they are for the time being content.

The prophet Archbishop Hunthausen

The synagogue built by human hands persecuted the prophets of old. Jesus complained, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem! You kill the prophets and stone the messengers God sent you!” (Mt. 23:37) The church built by human hands also persecutes the prophets.

It persecuted Raymond Hunthausen, Archbishop of Seattle from 1975 to 1991. When he became Archbishop, he moved out of the Episcopal mansion into an ordinary house in town. He is remembered most for his support of the poor and disenfranchised. He was an inveterate pacifist and anti-nuclear protestor. He disagreed with the Vatican over various issues. In a letter on July 1, 1977, he publicly defended the rights of gays and lesbians. One of Hunthausen's most controversial acts was to permit a militant homosexual group, Dignity, to hold its own Mass in his cathedral. “They're Catholics too,” he explained. "They need a place to pray.” In 1985, Pope John Paul, supreme head of the church built by human hands, stripped prophet Hunthausen of his authority, because “his lack of clarity about homosexuality had confused the faithful.”

The prophet Bishop Untener

The church built by human hands also persecuted now deceased Kenneth Untener, the Bishop of Saginaw, Michigan, from 1980 to 2004. 1993 was the 25th anniversary of Pope Paul VI's encyclical letter Humanae Vitae (1993) which reaffirmed the Church's stand against artificial birth control. Bishop Untener seized the occasion to urge the church to start a new, honest and open discussion on birth control. That was a courageous and prophetic invitation, because for the past twenty-five years Humanae Vitae had become a litmus test of Catholic loyalty. Untener’s daring invitation quietly infuriated Rome and assured prophet Untener that he would never and could never become a Cardinal.

The prophet Gumbleton

The church built by human hands understandably persecuted Thomas Gumbleton, Auxiliary Bishop of Detroit from 1968 to 2006. In a letter to America magazine, November 20, 1963, he wrote, "I can vouch for the fact that very many bishops share the same conviction [that not every contraceptive act is intrinsically evil]. However, sadly enough, fewer and fewer are willing to say this publicly.” The bishop also predicted that, “Priestesses will inevitably come. Already, female parochial administrators are proving their competency and laying the groundwork for the ordination of women.”

Gumbleton has a brother Dan who is gay, was married and has four children. At first the bishop found it hard to accept. So did his mother who asked him one day whether her son -- his brother -- was going to hell. In 1997 he initiated and co-authored a pastoral letter of the US Catholic Bishops entitled Always Our Children. It is a pastoral message to the parents of homosexual children with suggestions for pastoral ministers. In a presentation in Lexington, MA, Gumbleton said, “We must further the steps we took in our pastoral letter Always Our Children to overcome the homophobia within our culture and within the Church. We must be a truly welcoming community for homosexual people.... Always Our Children pointed out that homosexuals are a gift to the Church, and we should not marginalize them and push them aside.”

What! A gift to the Church! When Gumbleton reached mandatory retirement age in 2006, his very good health prompted him to ask permission to continue on as Auxiliary Bishop to Detroit. His request was given to the head of the Congregation for Bishops, Cardinal Giovanni Re, and he denied it. Gumbleton served as pastor to a number of parishes in Detroit, including St. Leo's. In 2007 when he asked permission to remain a part of St. Leo's community, the Archdiosese of Detroit denied it.

The Prophet Father Farrow

As we speak, the church built by human hands has struck again. On Sunday, October 5, 2008, Father Geoffrey Farrow, 50, chaplain of the St. Paul Newman Center (which primarily serves students and faculty at Cal State Fresno) delivered a sermon which criticized church leadership for supporting California Proposition 8 -- a ballot measure that would make it unconstitutional for same-sex couples to marry. In his sermon Farrow said,

Recently, I was speaking with some of our parishioners who advocate for the
ordination of women. In the course of our conversation, a question arose which
has haunted me: At what point do you cease to be an agent for healing and growth
and become an accomplice of injustice? By asking all of the pastors of the
Diocese of Fresno to promote Catholics to vote ”Yes” on Proposition 8, the
bishop has placed me in a moral predicament.

In a well-thought-out, not-off-the-top-of-his-head homily, Farrow continued,

In directing the faithful to vote “Yes” on Proposition 8, the California bishops
are not only entering the political arena, they are [also] ignoring the advances
and insights of neurology, psychology, and the very statements by the church
itself that homosexuality is [an] innate [orientation]…. When the hierarchy
prohibited artificial birth control, most of the faithful in the United States,
Canada and Europe scratched their heads in wonderment and proceeded to ignore
them. There is an expression in theology: “The voice of the people is the voice
of God.” If your son or daughter is gay/lesbian let them know that you love them
unconditionally. Let them know that you are not ashamed or embarrassed by them.
Guide them as you would your other children to finding true and abiding love.

Farrow ended his fatal homily saying,

I know these words of truth will cost me dearly. But to withhold them would be
far more costly, and I would become an accomplice to a moral evil that strips
gay and lesbian people not only of their civil rights but of their human dignity
as well. Jesus said, “The truth will set you free.” He didn't promise that it
would be easy or without personal cost to speak that truth.

On Thursday, October 9, that personal cost came crashing down upon prophet Farrow. The church built by human hands struck again. Fresno Bishop John T. Steinbock removed Farrow as chaplain of the Newman Center saying,"Your statement contradicted the teaching of the Catholic Church and has brought scandal to your parish community as well as the whole Church." In a disciplinary letter he also admonished Farrow against "using the Internet as a means of continuing your conflict.”

Hunthausen, Untener, Gumbleton, Farrow, and many others are a great cloud of witnesses for us. They call to mind the words from Hebrews, “Therefore, surrounded as we are by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and sin that easily entangles our feet. And let us run with patient endurance the race that lies before us. (Hebrew 12:1)

Conclusion
Also in need of a temple built by human hands

This great cloud of witnesses of bishops and priests do not call us to wallow in negativity. In fact, on this feast of the Dedication of St. John Lateran, they call us to be positive about the temple built by human hands. For we are human beings who need to come together and worship in a structure made of stone, brick and mortar. We are human beings who need to worship with flesh and blood – especially the Eucharistic flesh and blood of Jesus. We are human beings who need to hear the proclamation of Good News in a world filled with bad news. We are human beings who, in the dark and gloomy days of November and December, need to see God’s beauty carved out in the marvelous marble of our cathedrals and basilicas, and see God’s glory shining forth from their stain-glass windows. We are human beings also in need of a temple built with human hands.

[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]It took 120 years to build St. Peter’s. Construction began on April 18, 1506 and was completed in 1626.

All Souls

All Souls
(Under the Cypresses)

Nov. 2, 2008, All Souls Day
Wisdom 3:1-3; 5-6 I Thessalonians 4:13-14 John 6:37-39

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


First reading from Wisdom 3:1-6

The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. In the eyes of the unwise they seemed to be dead. Their passing away was considered a terrible disaster. Their leaving us was thought to be total annihilation. But they are in peace. As they suffered they were filled with hope of life eternal. God put them to the test and proved them worthy to be with Him. He tested them like gold in a furnace and accepted them as a sacrificial offering.

Second reading from I Thessalonians 4:13-14

Brothers and sisters, act the way a Christian should act concerning those who sleep in death. Do not grieve like those who have no hope. We believe that Jesus died and rose again, and that it will be the same for those who have died in Him; God will bring them to life with Jesus.

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to John 6:37-39
Glory to you, Lord.

Jesus said to the crowds, “Everyone whom my Father gives me will come to me; and I will never turn anyone away who comes to me. For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but the will of Him who sent me. And this is the will of Him who sent me, that I should not lose even one of those He has given me, but that I should raise them all up to eternal life on the Last Day.

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

Introduction
A triduum

This time of the rolling year we have a kind of triduum on our hands and in our hearts: Halloween on Oct. 31, All Saints on Nov. 1 and All Souls on Nov. 2.

Halloween & All Saints

The Celts, who lived 2,000 years ago in what is now Ireland, the United Kingdom and northern France, celebrated the new year on November 1. That day marked the end of summer and the harvest. It marked also the beginning of a season of cold and darkness -- a time of year often associated with human death. Celts believed that on the night before their new year (October 31) the boundaries between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred. On that night, Celts celebrated the feast of Samhain (a Celtic Lord of death) whose name literally means “summer’s end.” Samhain allowed the souls of the dead to return to their earthly homes that evening. They came in the form of ghosts, witches, goblins, and elves to harm especially those who had inflicted harm on them in this life.

On November 1, in the originalBasilica of St. Peter, Pope Gregory III (731-741) consecrated a chapel to All Saints. Pope Gregory IV (827-844) extended November 1 as the feast of All Saints to the entire Church. So the night of October 31 (the Celtics’ feast of Samhain) came to be called All Hallows’ (All Saints’) Eve. That’s how we got Hallow-e’en. That purely calendar-connection with the Celtic feast of Samhain explains why Halloween, the Eve of All Saints, came to be filled with ghosts, witches, goblins and elves to scare people,

The pumpkin (Halloween's most famous icon) originated in Europe. A scary face was carved out of a turnip and a candle was placed within to scare away ghostly creatures. The name Jack-o'-lantern is traced back to the Irish legend of Stingy Jack who tricked the devil, and who in turn was condemned to wander the earth at night with only a candle burning inside a hollowed turnip. In North America, Jack-o’-lanterns were more conveniently carved out of pumpkins. That’s how we got the scary pumpkin of Halloween

All Souls Day

Today, All Souls Day, the Church remembers it's dead. In the 11th century, St Odilo (d.1049), the fifth abbot of the famous abbey of Cluny (a city in France) ordered a commemoration of all the faithful departed to be celebrated in his monasteries on November 2. The commemoration then spread throughout the Benedictine abbeys of Europe. All Souls Day emerged in the church as a companion day to the Feast of All Saints on November 1. If all the saints were celebrated one day, it seemed only fitting to celebrate all our beloved dead the next day.

During World War I, Pope Benedict XV (1914-1922), recognizing the number of war dead and the numerous Masses that could not be fulfilled because of destroyed Churches, granted all priests the privilege of offering three Masses on All Souls Day: one for a particular intention, one for all of the faithful departed, and one for the intentions of the Holy Father. That’s how we got All Souls Day with its three Masses.

Since All Souls, November 2, lands on a Sunday this year (2008), it replaces the 31st Sunday of Ordinary Time.

On rethinking All Souls

On Memorial Day, the last Monday of May, the Nation remembers its dead. In day’s past, parades marched through little towns and hamlets and ended up in cemeteries where the dead of World War I lay. Their graves were decorated with flowers and flags for the occasion, and that’s why we used to call it Decoration Day. There in cemeteries, politicians and officials gave speeches about how glorious it was to die in war for your country. Then to enhance the occasion, living soldiers shot over the graves of dead soldiers.

Since then the Nation has reread its Memorial Day feast. There are very few military parades anymore marching down main street to the city’s cemetery. If there are any parades these days, it is to the city park where people play games, and where they barbecue hamburgers and wieners to celebrate summer’s beginning. And there are certainly no more speeches today about how glorious it is to die in war.

The Church, too, rereads its feasts. Many of us remember All Souls Day of the past. We were told that if we visited a church on that day and clicked off six Hail Mary-s, six Our Father-s and six Glory be-s, we could snatch a soul out of purgatory. That was the place where our beloved dead were “doing time” because they weren’t as yet perfect enough to enter into the Beatific Vision. Some of us have always felt a bit uncomfortable with that kind of click-off transaction with a non-transactional God.

Purgatory here on earth

Perhaps purgatory isn't so much a place as a process. Years ago we buried old Sister Leonard. She was a remarkable woman, an excellent teacher, a level-headed superior in that whole period of change and renewal after Vatican II. When she died, she was but a shell and a shadow of her former self. What pain, what purgation, what process, she had gone through! When she died, we all believed she took leave not only of us and earth but also of her purgatory, and she went straight to heaven. The process was over for her.

That, I believe, is true of a whole host of God’s people who find purgatory galore here on earth. They find it in the big mistakes they make, the wrong directions they take, the physical and emotional pains they feel, the misunderstandings laid upon them and the material privations they suffer. When they die, they take leave not only of earth but also of purgatory, and they go straight to heaven. When they die, the process is over.

An ancient Latin hymn[3] possibly of the 12th century sings,

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

The strife is o'er, the battle done,

the victory of life is won;

the song of triumph has begun.

Alleluia!

On September 26, 2008, a beloved friend of ours died after a very long battle with cancer -- a battle he and his wife had fought with undaunted courage. Because his presence among us was as big as life, his absence now relentlessly impinges itself upon us; we can’t believe he is not here! But we take refuge in the thought that for him now the strife is over and the battle is done, and he has gone straight to heaven.

“It’s all right.”

All Souls Day is not for the dead who no longer weep; it is for us the living who weep because of our loss. In an essay We Will Never Die, Russian dissident, Alexander Solzhenitsyn, writes,

Nowadays, if a cemetery is not kept up, they post a sign telling the owners to
keep their graves tidy on penalty of a fine. More often, though, they just
flatten the graves with bulldozers to build sport stadiums and parks. In the old
days people would visit our cemeteries on All Souls Day and walk between the
graves bedecked with flowers, and they would sing beautiful hymns and spread
sweet-smelling incense. It set your heart at rest; it allayed the painful fear
of inevitable death. It was almost as though the dead were smiling from under
their grey mounds and consoling us, saying, “It's all right. Don't be afraid.”

From their graves our beloved dead also say to us, “It’s all right. The strife is over and the battle is won.” Again from their graves they say to us, “It’s all right. Do not grieve like those who have no hope.” (I Thess 4:13) They do not tell us not to grieve; they simply tell us not to grieve without hope. They, in fact, encourage us to grieve as much as we need to grieve, but then they encourage us also to know when it is time to put grief on a backburner and get on with the rest of our lives.

Conclusion
Under the cypresses

For the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls Italians always head back to their paese -- to their little village. (It’s like us Americans heading home for Thanksgiving.) There in their paese they were conceived, born and baptized. There they grew up great with self-esteem -- thanks to the countless kisses and hugs from Italian mamas and grandmas.

On the skirt of their village is located the village cemetery where all their beloved sleep. You can spot an Italian cemetery from miles away. It is surrounded by tall slender ever-green cypresses. The Italians have an expression: “Sotto i cipressi” – “Under the cypresses.” It refers to all their beloved dead asleep in the cemetery. For the living folk of the village the expression is filled with resignation, acceptance and even peace.

Pointing upward toward heaven like huge fingers the cypresses seem to say, “It’s all right. They’re way up there out of this vale of tears. It’s all right. For them the strife is over and the battle is done.” On All Souls Day the paesani walk between the graves with the scary thought of death on their mind. But their beloved dead smile up at them and console them saying, “It’s all right. Don’t be afraid.”

[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]Finita iam sunt prael­ia.