Sunday, February 26, 2006

A Challenge

"The Christian should reflect for a moment: Are there any Christian goods he does not owe, directly or indirectly, to what he perhaps contemptuously dismisses as 'institution' or the 'establishment'"?*

Anyone?

* Hans Urs von Balthasar from Mary: The Church at the Source (Ignatius: San Francisco, 1997)

Friday, February 24, 2006

'Duh Vinci Code' - A Temptation for Those Who Would Court the World

To clarify for those who may not have heard of it, the Emergent movement is an accretion of the evangelical Church that is characterized by its radical use of cultural camouflage. The Emergent community has self-consciously adapted itself to the culture in which it lives, that is to say, Americana, in an attempt to open channels of communication with unbelievers in terms that they would understand. The idea is that the exclusion implicit in a pronounced orthodoxy and distinctively ecclesial culture is itself a scandal to be overcome by a sensitive seeker; remove the scandal and you have opened the Church to be a force of conversion. A part of the chameleon act involved in this has been the attempt to adapt to and Christianize post-modern philosophy. Much of the rationale for this movement is predicated, I suspect, on honest and earnest and self-consciously devoted Evangelicals who trusted their ability to navigate the darkness of contemporary American culture, and emerge unscathed. It is all the natural conclusion of the 'seeker friendly' heresy.

The result so far, unfortunately, is the production of massive churches that appeal to thousands who want belief without doctrine, a pastor without a crook, the Body of Christ without bones. This is not the cost of dialogue; this is the cost of compromise.

This compromise which follows the quest to 'engage the culture' has interesting corollaries that ought to make us wary of a dialogue that does not begin with the first principles of fidelity. Richard Neuhaus posted today in On the Square: Observations & Contentions on the behavior of some evangelicals in reference to the movie, 'The Da Vinci Code'. There is a fine line between 'engaging the culture' and discovering that you have adopted the culture and what follows is, in my opinion, a case study of the sort of thinking that has spawned the Emergent movement:

"Both Catholic and evangelical blogs have been exercised by the number of evangelicals who are encouraging people to see The Da Vinci Code, the movie. (The movie is known in some circles as the Duh Vinci Code.) This is, we are told, a “teachable moment” in which the patent falsehoods of the book and film can provide an occasion for opening people to the truth about Christ and the Church. Put me down as among the skeptical.

Sony is paying an organization called Grace Hill Media to sell the film to evangelicals. Among the films that Grace Hill has promoted to the evangelical Christian audience in the past are “The Producers” and “Elf.” Go figure. In the material put out by Sony and Grace Hill, we are informed that all kinds of “experts” on Christian history and theology have been enlisted to explain the significance of “The Da Vinci Code.” It has not gone unremarked that some of these experts are associated with evangelical groups that are distinctly critical of Catholicism. The book and, it is assumed, the film provide rich material for the peddlers of sinister theories about the ways of the Whore of Babylon. The experts “correct” the film by referring viewers to their own accounts of the errors of Rome.

Critics of Grace Hill and others who are party to this game are understandably puzzled about why evangelical Christians are plugging a story that alleges that the gospel accounts of Jesus are fraudulent. Of course, the line is that you can’t criticize something without having seen it. Which is nonsense with respect to more conventional pornography, and with respect to the spiritual pornography that is The Da Vinci Code. In addition to the suspicion of anti-Catholicism, one might also “think low” and ask just how much Grace Hill Media is getting paid to do Sony’s dirty work. Most poignant, of course, are those evangelicals who think they are “engaging the culture” and have hit the big time when Hollywood gives them “a place at the table” to discuss the pros and cons of blasphemy against their Lord and Savior."

Ex Opere Operato

People familiar with devoted young evangelicals are familiar with the question, 'what is the minimum required for belief before one can be regarded as a Christian?' I think that this question arises again and again mainly because of the emphasis within Protestant communities on Sola Fide - Faith Alone - one of the priciples of the Reformation. Sola Fide as a theological concept was not so much about the content of belief as it was about salvation coming by faith through grace, rather than by an effort on the part of the Christian believer to contribute to his own salvation. It seems to me, however, that in the decline of theological and historical self-understanding among less traditional evangelicals the prominence of faith in Protestant belief has come to raise the question of content in relation to faith. What does it mean to be a Christian? What is a Church? Who belongs to the Church? How can we know if someone is or is not a believer in Christ?

This question troubled me in the difficult years following my conversion to Christianity. Faith alone. It can be a terrifying concept when regarded with candor and introspection. The question becomes, do I have enough faith? Salvation becomes an uncertainty, and anxiety is close on our heels.

I remember when I was in Taize I had a conversation with a woman, one of the few from Canada, who was deeply worried about this question, 'was her faith enough?' How could she know she was saved? She could say with the Apostle, "I believe, help my unbelief." But, what if that unbelief outweighed the belief?

Shortly before my baptism, it occured to me that in faith I came to the Church, and in the waters of the sacrament something would be done to me to affect my salvation. I came in faith, imperfect, unholy, a sinner, in need of salvation. And in the sacrament I was forgiven, made clean, made holy, united to Christ. This was of the utmost importance: something was done to me.

It is not my faith on which I rely. I rely on the work of the Lord, and that is brought to me ex opere operato. Ex Opere Operato means that if the communicative nature of the Christian sacraments is acknowledged, a sacrament properly performed is seen to convey God's grace independently of the faith or moral character of the celebrant or recipients. There is a touch of irony, I suppose, that I was convinced by my baptismal experience which took place in a 'seeker friendly' evangelical Church to convert to Catholicsm.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

On the Debt of our Creation

I have been reading Mary: The Church at the Source, a combined work that is a compilation of writings by Hans Urs von Balthasar and Pope Benedict XVI while Cardinal Ratzinger. The first evening of our RCIA Purification & Enlightenment will be on Mary and her place in the Church.

From Father Balthasar, words I find especially interesting in light of our expecting:

If someone is a believer, he will never cease being struck with amazement at the mystery of the begetting of a child. How can a purely physiological process produce a human person who is free, spiritual, enjoys an immediate relation to God - how, indeed, unless the all-begetting origin, God himself, is involved. Every man who is in any way religious will owe lifelong thanks for himself, not only to his parents, but also to God. After all it was God who gave man his [man's] own self as the highest and primary of all worldly goods.

Amazement and gratitude, and a renewed respect for my parents. That about sums it up.

Friday, February 10, 2006

New Life

Lindsay, my wife, is pregnant.

I want to write about this because it seems important to record my thoughts and feelings about this singular unfolding of change in my life. But now that I start, I hardly feel like I can get past those first five words, "Lindsay, my wife, is pregnant." Those who know me might be surprised if they realized how nonplussed I really am.

We are not surprised by this gift. We have been open to life, and welcoming of it, and God has seen fit to bless us with it. In the beginning of our months of trying, sitting one Sunday next to the windows depicting the Blessed Annunciation, we heard a sermon which included a phrase that settled on my mind, "In God's good time." I remembered that, again and again, as we waited and prayed and hoped to share in God's re-creation.

And now God's good time has come. Change has come with it, a change that is singular not because we will only have one child - God willing - but because we will only have one first child. As life unfolds and takes shape in the warmth and hospitality of Lindsay's womb, slowly and certainly the lives of our custom are being pulled apart and broken down, themselves passing through a tremulous re-creation.

It occurred to me, after my sister's procreative experience, that childbearing is cruciform. On of the consequences of sin, we are told, is that God "will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children (Gen 3:16)." And Jesus tells us "Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit (John 2:5)." Lindsay has welcomed life, and in welcoming it has accepted the self-sacrifice and literal self-giving of childbearing, and when the great moment arrives her graciousness will be answered with manifold pain, and, passing out of the pain, a child. She will love that child, not less, but more because of the sacrifice she endured for its sake. To be born of water and Spirit, as Jesus reveals necessary, is to be Baptized and Confirmed. To be baptized is to be united to Christ's death - a suffering death of crucifixion - and so to his Resurrection; and to be confirmed is to be sealed by the Holy Spirit. The love and sacrifice of the bearer is to be likened to the love and sacrifice of Jesus; and the continued self-emptying love of the mother is to be likened to the abiding and steadfast love of the Father, through the Holy Spirit.

These changes, this self-giving and self-sacrifice, and the promise of pain in childbearing and labor, are all evident to Lindsay. She, by gift of her womanhood, feels directly the nature of the changes taking place in our lives. My experience is altogether different; more vague and uncertain. I expect to be taken off my feet in the delivery room, and, again, to be nonplussed.

At times, I feel normal, like there is no difference this month from last. In fleeting moments I feel the weight of responsibility and duty. The other day I looked into the mirror and suddenly saw, as if through the eyes of a young child, the face of a 'dad'. The more real it seems, the more love and gratitude I feel, and I am reminded again and again of a different sense of hope than I am familiar with. Sometimes I even feel relieved, especially when I step back and regard, like a beautiful vista, how remarkable Lindsay is; she will be a wonderful mother. When I think of our child, of what it might face and what we might face because of it, of who it might be and who we might become, one thing I never feel is fear.

God is good.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

El Camino de Santiago

One of my mentors, Charles Nienkirchen, made great efforts to teach his students about the importance of introspection. Ongoing self-scrutiny is an invaluable spiritual discipline. By searching ourselves we come to know more than ourselves; we come to see the work of God and grace in our life. And when we look at ourselves with regularity, we can perceive small, incremental changes that have been wrought over time. Small graces over long periods are how many of us are transfigured. I suppose, also, that small evils left alone to fester and corrupt can over years and decades leave us dead, and still weeping and gnashing our teeth.

It is with interest, having last posted on my memories of having arrived at the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, that I re-read my online journal, written while I was on the Way. It was not meant to be a journal, as such, but a way of keeping my friends and family current on what I was experiencing. In fact, each entry was just an email, which my pastor at the time decided to post on the church website for the community to read.

I remember being at a lunch with acquaintances from the church and one asking me, "So, did you learn anything important on your trip? Did you pick up some wisdom?" I thought for a moment, and realized, perhaps for the first time, that I had learned more than I could collect, and that I could develop it over a lifetime. I replied, "Yes." And he looked at me, expectantly, waiting for an elaboration. My heart sank a little. I told him the one thing that might be of real help to him at that time, one of the most important jewels of wisdom I was graced with on our journey. I said, "I can't tell you what I learned; it just doesn't make sense without the experience."

It's true that the lesson of El Camino de Santiago is inseparable from the pilgrimage itself. I suppose that so much of our wisdom is like that. If the desert is an essential element of our spiritual life it cannot be avoided by talking or reading or praying around it. We cannot be completed in the faith by reading the gospel of the Cross; we each have to take up and bear our own crucifix.

Do I equate my time on the Way of Saint James with the cross I have to bear? No. It is, however, a part of my own via dolorosa. In reply to one of my emails Charles said that he thought all of what Jesus did from when he left the waters of the Jordan at his baptism was a part of the Way of the Cross. Did not all roads then lead to the Passion for our Lord?

And so, in good measure are the disciplines of penitence, penance, fasting, and scrutiny vindicated. They prepare us for Gethsemane and for Golgotha and for the New Jerusalem.