The Fragile Persistence of Time: An Advent Reflection

Albert Einstein, Edwin Hubble and Walter S. Adams observe the expansion of the universe, and of Einstein's mind

Time has been flying. I’ve heard it said that as we age we tend to perceive time differently than when we were children, with the weeks and months passing by at an increasingly rapid rate as the years progress. Even taking this possibility into account, I feel as if time is passing with a preternatural swiftness. A little while ago I was speaking to one of our secretaries, who was minding the daughter of one of our other secretaries as she did her work in the office, about this very fact. The girl is thirteen years old, and I remembered that it seemed like I was 13 for ever, and turning 14 would never happen. Maybe because it was during my 8th grade year, and I found my junior high school years particularly awkward — unpleasant even, that time dragged on. Once I did turn 14, though, I could feel the years speed up. Now, like many, I'm well ensconced in middle age and it's hard to believe that my school years were so long ago. I've known people in this 90’s who say the same thing. This doesn't change the fact that there does seem to be a speeding up — and whether this is a natural result of aging or some spiritual sign, I can't say.

We are at the point in the year — the last weeks of Ordinary Time and, now, the first weeks of Advent — when the Church asks us to meditate on time in a particular way: specifically on the reality that time has an end. An objective of many scientists over the years, including Einstein, has been to prove that matter is eternal, the universe stable — without beginning or end. With that theorem proved it would mean that God was truly an unneeded hypothesis. Yet Einstein looked through a telescope one day and saw that the universe was expanding and so, bright fellow that he was, he understood that the Almighty couldn't be dismissed quite so easily. Whether he came to believe that time had an end, I can not say, but he clearly knew in that moment that it had a beginning. That time having a beginning necessitates that it has an eventual end, I'm not enough of a philosopher to argue, but Faith tells us that indeed it does. Such thoughts often fill us with dread, since time is all we know. While the words of Jesus on these matters rightly give us pause, we should emerge from our meditation with a sense of hope rather than fear.

We should also walk away from any meditation on the End Times aware that there is no date set on the calendar for when the world as we know it will come to an end. I believe that it was St. Augustine who wrote that the Lord allows all eras to believe that they are, or at least may be, living during the apocalypse so that they may stay ready and alert. If we knew that Jesus’ return wouldn't happen until 2525, to pick a random date, it would change our entire way of dealing with both heavenly and earthy realities. My guess is that we would both put off conversion, in spite of the knowledge that our own personal end is certain though it's timing unknown, and leave the injustices of the world to sit, since we would know for certain that the Lord would be back to put it all aright. But we don't know if this is the time of Visitation, so we are more likely to stay ready. We do (or should) concern ourselves with the commonweal, since the odds are we will be filling out the totality of our days in the world as it is, as will our children — and we want this to be the best world it can be for us and for future generations. If the Lord does return, he will want to see faithful stewardship. 

Strangely, many people seem to be more easily preoccupied over the End of Days than over their personal end. The odds against this being the time of the Lord’s return are incalculable, while the the chances that we will die are certain. What these two events have in common is that we can't say for certain when either will take place. Another similarity is that we shouldn't be morbidly curious about either. Maintaining a healthy awareness — yes, but idle curiosity or getting caught up in esoteric speculations are a waste of time. 

There is another extreme, promoted by some contemporary spiritual writers, that says that we shouldn't think about these things at all, especially about Jesus’ return and what Heaven will be like. We need to be completely invested in this world while we are in it, and any thoughts of the world to come are a distraction from the vital works of justice and peace that we should be performing in Jesus’ name. This attitude is essentially a tip of the hat to Marx, and his critique of religion as escapist narcotic. Well, I never thought much of Marx, and never understood why we need to answer him — or, more precisely, placate him and his disciples. The beauty of Catholicism is that it isn't nearly as black and white as her critics, and it would seem even some of her practitioners, would claim. Being invested in this world doesn't have to mean ignoring the World to come. Jesus certainly talked about it enough, while also making it clear that we are to be proactive members of our earthly society. The two realities are actually linked, with how we dedicate our self to justice and peace here and now effecting how we will live in eternity. 

We shouldn't get side tracked by fantasizing of the world to come, true. At the same time we are given these times of the liturgical year to pay special attention to the deeper, unseen realities. Advent, Lent and Easter are like little transfigurations that are meant to give us glimpses of the future. These glimpses are meant to give us hope. Our work in this world can seem hard and unproductive. We can put blood, sweat and tears into a project, just to see it fail. We can be frustrated like the apostles at the bottom of Mount Tabor who struggled unsuccessfully to exorcise a demon. Jesus and the chosen three had just come down from the mount of Transfiguration, Peter, James and John having seen the Lord in His glory. After the brief ecstasy came the return to the hard, drawn out slog of life. In this particular case, they returned to see the disciples fighting with one another over what was going wrong. But with that glimpse of Jesus with Moses and Elijah on either side, they could see that  all the sacrifices would be worth it. They saw that we don't live in a closed in system, and all the efforts, even the failures, lead to something greater if we put our trust in Christ.

While our hope is in eternity, we do still live in time. Advent is given to us as a glimpse of the future, but also a reminder that the moment is now to respond to God’s call. In these first weeks of Advent we meditate on John the Baptist’s call to repentance. It is a call that is time sensitive. More on this giant figure of the Baptist and his warning to repent now, while there is still time, coming soon.

Parish Bulletin Letter: 2nd Sunday of Advent 2016

During Advent we are remembering and preparing. We are remembering the events that led to the birth of Jesus, and what the Word becoming flesh means for the world and us. We are also preparing for Jesus’ return at the end of time. Jesus’ first coming into the world happened in secret, with only a few people understanding what was happening, and even then Mary, Joseph and the Magi really didn’t fully grasp what His birth meant. When Jesus returns in His glory, there will be no doubts: everyone will understand that the King has returned to judge the world. The second part of Advent, which leads into the celebration of Christmas, is dedicated to a meditation on the Incarnation and Nativity of the Savior. These first days focus us on Jesus’ Second Coming, and the need to prepare spiritually for this event.

To help focus us on what we need to do to prepare for Jesus’ return, this week and next the Church offers us readings about John the Baptist. John is the last of the Old Testament prophets, who came in the spirit of Elijah, to prepare the way for Jesus’ public ministry. In the reading we hear today from the Gospel according to Matthew, John warns the people sternly that they need to repent if they are to enter the Kingdom of God, which is now at hand. This means rejecting sin and turning back to God. But this repentance can’t be just lip service: they need to perform good works that serve as signs of their repentance. To repent means to turn away from our old way of life and turning back to God.

It’s true that the Kingdom is here, and we enter into it when we accept Christ and are baptized. But we are always in need of renewal. This means that it’s important that we examine ourselves, not just to number our sins and vices, but to also ask how we can be more faithful to our calling to live the Kingdom now. If we aren’t living a life of prayer, participating in the Sacraments, practicing the works of mercy as signs of our faith, then we aren’t really ready for the Kingdom that is to come with Jesus’ return, because we aren’t living the Kingdom here and now. That is what Advent is about. More on what this means next week.

Bishop Robert Barron on Satellites and Praying to the Saints

This comes a little late for Solemnity of All Saints, but an interesting reflection on the Communion of Saints from Bishop Barron. 

Some Thoughts as the Year of Mercy Comes to an End

As I write these words members of our parish are getting ready for one last pilgrimage to pass through the Holy Doors before the Jubilee Year of Mercy comes to an end on the feast of Christ the King - which is tomorrow. We're truly blessed, because the nearest doors are just over a mile away at St. Ferdinand Parish, so we'll be walking it. The only question is the weather: after a spiring like autumn, winter decided to show up, quite literally, last night - uninvited if not unexpected. The temperatures are in the 30's, so the relatively short walk is appreciated. In general we've been busy during evening confessions this week, mainly with the task of servicing these, and other pilgrims eager to take advantage of the graces being offered. I'm sure the Lord will smile on them even more because of the harsh weather that we will have to endure.

Now that the extraordinary jubilee is almost over, there is speculation about what comes next. The relationship between the Year of Mercy and the private revelations of St. Faustina seemed to be more implied than clearly drawn in how the Church promoted the year. Nonetheless the connection has always been there, even if only passingly. Those who are far more familiar with diary of the Polish seer than I am have pointed out that Jesus told her that first He would come as a merciful Savior, but those who didn't accept Jesus' mercy would later experience Him as a just judge. Is the time of mercy ending and one of divine judgment beginning?

Pope Francis has warned us time and again to avoid "prophets of doom," who bemoan our times and predict a shower of fire and brimstone from the Almighty at any moment. No, the physical doors of mercy may be closing, but the spiritual doors of the merciful heart of Jesus will remain open. The question is, not will Jesus close off the gateway of His mercy, but will we close off the doors of our heart to Him? God is ever respectful of our freedom. He will knock, pound even, but He won't break the door in. He wants us to accept Him in love. He'll even accept us out of our fear, though that's not his preference, because he just wants us to be His. 

I'm not sure if we are entering into an age of judgement, but we are entering into a new age. There is uncertainty, doubts and fears that are hanging over us; but we need to be sure not to let these things actually take hold of us. I've been writing a lot about politics lately, so I'll make it clear that this condition is independent of who the president is. Part of the problem is that we have put too much faith in a combination of big government, big business and big media. In this new age our trust needs to be in God, not in purely human institutions. That said, putting trust in God means being obedient to his Word. While the Holy Father hasn't spoken of judgment, he has spoken clearly about living mercy in our lives. By living mercy, performing the Works of Mercy, both spiritual and corporal, as well as being ready to forgive and reconcile with others we are signs to others that the Kingdom is indeed here. For those who live the Kingdom of Light, there is no darkness. There is no moral law against charity, there is no negative judgment to be feared against mercy - and His mercy endures forever. 

One More Commentary on the Election, Then No More Politics Until 2020 - I Hope

When I first started this little venture almost seven years ago (hard to believe it's been that long) my mother warned me not to get political. Sound advice, really, but since life can't be so neatly compartmentalized, faith and politics will intersect now and again, to put it mildly. That being said, I desperately don't want this site to devolve into "Fr. Tom's Washington Week in Review," so I'll give my wrap up to this latest, and most hotly contested election season, and then move on to other things.

There's been a lot of talk about abolishing the Electoral College in light of Hillary Clinton's win in the popular vote. My take, in a nutshell, is that it wasn't the Electoral College that subverted democracy, as some critics claim, it was the nomination process that left us with two beyond flawed candidates. I gave my views on the electoral system the last time out, and am in agreement with David French that to assume that Clinton would have automatically won a popular vote election is absurd, because the rules for such a contest would be different, the campaign strategies employed would be different - such as how the "get out the vote" ground game would be organized, so most likely the outcome would be different, and not necessarily in Secretary Clinton's favor. But beyond the pro's and con's of direct versus indirect democracy, the problem this year was the choice the electorate was given by the major parties, not the rules under which the general election was conducted. 

In Secretary Clinton and Donald Trump, we weren't given two candidates who offered contrasting political or economic visions to be debated and tired by the people. It was a clash of personalities and identity over real substance. And the system that left them as the major party nominees was rigged from the outset. 

The Democrats, if they had allowed an open primary, would have had Vice President Joe Biden and possibly Senator Elizabeth Warren competing with Clinton and Senator Bernie Sanders, and I don't think Clinton would have stood a chance. Whatever you may think of their politics, each of her potential competitors has ideas, vision and come across as genuine and empathetic. The only argument Clinton had for being elected was her gender and that it was "her turn." She has said that she has public and private positions on issues, which, needless to say, only further fortifies her reputation for dishonesty. She also exudes an almost Nixonian discomfort with being in her own skin. And it comes across, with only her most ardent supporters unable to see it. For whatever reason, and I'll leave that surmising to others, the DNC decided to treat Clinton with the deference usually accorded an incumbent president. The result was the Dems putting up a candidate with poor political skills and instincts, who wasn't particularly likable to boot. She had a hard time shaking Sanders (who was allowed in the race only because no-one thought he would actually compete) in the primaries and was unable to put away Trump, who should have been politically dead at least five times since Labor Day alone.

On the Republican side the party establishment did not want to see Ted Cruz be their standard bearer. While the Texas senator is loathed by progressives, he's almost equally disliked by his colleagues within the GOP caucus. Yet Alan Dershowitz, not exactly a conservative, called him one of the most intelligent students he ever had at Harvard Law School. Again, I'll leave the why's of the matter to others, but the party bosses wanted anyone but Cruz, and they got it. Instead of limiting the number of contenders like the Democrats, they flooded the field with 17 candidates, allowing the culling process to drag on. Trump never had the majority of support from the GOP electorate, but was able to gain enough of a plurality among an overcrowded field to win the nomination. The GOP establishment didn't want Trump either, but in an antiestablishment year, they weren't going to get who they wanted, which was probably Jeb Bush. Instead of exerting some reasonable control over the process they let it run wild, and got the ultimate outsider who refused to be bridled. 

Understand something, both parties are private organizations who can choose their nominees any way they want. If they want to draw lots in somebody's basement or meet in a 7-Eleven parking lot at one in the morning to duke it out, there's no federal law stopping them. But both parties have chosen to open the process up, allowing a public vote to, at least, partially determine who will represent them in the general election. That they rigged the outcome isn't even the bad part, it's that they rigged it so stupidly. The Democrats should have allowed a more open process, where the GOP would have benefitted from a bit more control. If the parties had approached the process differently we might have ended up with Biden or Warren going up against Cruz or possibly Marco Rubio. We would have had an election rooted in contrasting visions of the nation, run on competing ideas, not simply an election to determine who the American people dislikes less. 

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I'll offer one further reflection. I understand that elections, even in less contentious years than this has been, can be emotionally draining. For those who really support a candidate, losing can easily bring on a bout with depression, even if it isn't of the clinical variety. But the reaction to Clinton's defeat and Trump's victory by her supporters and his detractors (they aren't necessarily the same people) is beyond the beyond. Whether you like the Electoral College or not, those were the rules both sides operated under, and each side constructed their campaign strategy to get to 270 votes first. The popular vote is a beauty contest, plain and simple, and everybody involved in the campaigns knew that. That's why Secretary Clinton conceded before the popular vote outcome was certain. But I don't think the ongoing public demonstrations or the initial emotionally overwrought response has to do with constitutional issues. It has to do with a lack of perspective. We have to regain the understanding that politics isn't life, and the losers will have another chance sooner than they think. Stephen Colbert summed up our need to get things into perspective well on election night. 

No, politics isn't life. And, more importantly, politics isn't religion. But so many today, in our increasingly secular society, have nothing transcendent to keep them grounded. Some place their trust in material things - they'll camp out over night for a new cell phone or obsess over the latest video game. Others become engrossed in modern mythologies, learning Klingon and dressing up like Batman in public. I'm no kill joy - there's nothing wrong with hanging out at Comic Con or making a hobby of technology. There's nothing wrong with fun. Again, it's about perspective and, proportion. There are Star Wars fans who will argue over who shot first in the cantina, Han Solo or Greedo, like theologians once did over transubstantiation. This seems to be the product of a culture that's lost perspective and a healthy sense of proportion. 

Secularism has cut us off from the transcendent, but in our human need to reach out for something beyond us we are increasingly latching on to earthbound, limited gods in which to place our faith and devotion. What many people have chosen to make important in their lives, in extreme cases, make their personal organizing principles, aren't real at all but are products of pure fantasy. Many in the current generation, which has rejected Biblical faith in large numbers because they question its historicity, will fight like champions over the proper film adaptation of a comic book - whose contents they know isn't real. What is true and what is fake have become confused. What is important and what is trivial are now indistinguishable to our minds. Ironically, this irrationality is permeating society at a time when science and rationality have claimed victory in the culture wars.

The more "rational" among us have chosen politics as their god. Reality is viewed through the prism of economic and, or political ideology. There are even religious people who have come to judge their faith by how it comports with their political ideology rather than the other way around. Because reality is politics, and voting is morality, losing an election becomes the end of the world. Voting for a particular candidate becomes either a virtue signal or a mortal sin, depending on our political faith. There is no perspective, that in the U.S. system, anyway, we'll have congressional elections in two years, and another go at the White House in four. There is no perspective that republics, like empires, rise and fall, and ours will be no different. We do the best we can, in the light of faith, to form the most just society we can, knowing that we will never get it right. The political junkies make the same mistake that the fanboys make - only instead of really believing that there's such a thing as kryptonite, they believe in utopia, and that its creation is within their grasp. Both propositions are false, both are irrational fantasy. Both point to a lack of perspective and proportion.

We are seeing things totally backwards right now. It is only by being rooted in the transcendent that this "concrete" world will make any sense.  It is the eternal that is unchanging. This physical reality is constantly in a state of becoming. History will not end by humans willing it. It is only in Christ that history will have, not simply its end, but its fulfillment. All our human politics must be formulated and lived with this in mind if it will be truly lasting, and adaptable in the midst of this temporal reality.

To sum up, I believe that everything is allowed to happen for a reason. We would have lost no matter who won last Tuesday, we would have just lost in a different way. We are being called to gain perspective; to see that human power will not save us. We are being called to put our faith in God and not in political systems, no matter how just they seem. We are being called to judge our candidates by their ideas seen in the light of the Gospel, not choose them based on their personalities or charisma - or even their party affiliations. We have made God an afterthought in our political lives, and we are paying a steep price. God has allowed this election cycle so that we may come to see the futility of putting our faith in princes, our hope in a system. He wants us to regain a sense of perspective and proportion, that the Kingdom we serve is not based on earthly power or human ideology. These only corrupt and eventually fail. 

As for me, I will move on from politics. There will be no more political analysis for its own sake. I'll only touch on these topics in so far as how they effect the Church. For all of us, I advise, be informed, be aware, be engaged, but don't be obsessed. If you didn't like the outcome of this election, there will be a next - or maybe not. It will all depend on our keeping perspective and proportion. 

First Impressions of the New Reality

It's been a busy week at the parish, and it's not going to let up over the weekend. Since I won't have time for a full blown election postmortem until the middle of next week, I'll offer a few bullet points right now. Pith isn't my particular gift, but I'll try my best to get to the point. These are very basic observations that I'll put more meat on later.

1. Why is everyone so shocked? We should all be surprised by the outcome of Tuesday's election. Heck, even Donald Trump was caught off guard by his victory. A report I heard said that his campaign's internal polling was showing him the loser as late as Tuesday evening. But no one should be shocked. My mantra all along has been that nothing has gone by the book in the 2016 election, why should we think that the outcome will be normal? There is a deep discontent in this country that propelled both Trump's successful and Bernie Sanders' unsuccessful campaigns. No establishment candidate, not even one who ran, at least partially so, on the novelty of her gender, was going to have an easy time. In the end, none of the establishment presidential candidates were left standing.
2. Conservative Evangelicals and Catholics wanted him, you got him - now hold President Trump accountable. I'm cynical enough to be suspicious of someone who's been "Pro-Life" for the last five minutes having his great conversion just in time for election day. Many religious people voted for Mr. Trump, in spite of their reservations, because he's declared himself against abortion - especially late term procedures - and has vowed to nominate a justice in the mold of the late Antonin Scalia to replace him on the Supreme Court. In the broader sense, Trump positioned himself as the religious liberty candidate, who was going to protect religious institutions from government mandates that go contrary to their respective beliefs. People of faith need to hold President Trump's feet to the fire on this. Religious people who supported his candidacy must also have the courage to criticize and fight him when his policies are in contradiction to Gospel values, which brings me too the next point. 
3. Abortion isn't the only Life issue. I've always been ambivalent about the Seamless Garment teaching of the late, saintly Cardinal Joesph Bernadine of Chicago, which has gotten some renewed attention lately. Nonetheless, abortion isn't the only life issue, even if you want to argue that it's the most important. The life issue that effects me the most directly on a day to day basis is immigration reform. Yes, I wrote that immigration reform is a life issue. I'll make a deeper argument in support of this statement the future, but for now I'll let it stand as is. I'm not sure the president-elect, and many of his supporters understand the complexity of the issue. For me, this isn't even about an issue - it's about people. It's about families where some members have legal status, even citizenship, while a spouse or their children don't. Sometimes children are brought here as babies or toddlers but never had their immigration status normalized. Now they are adults, never having known any other country but the United States. Are we to break up families? Are we to deport millions who are, at the very least, culturally American from the only home that they have ever known? Personally, I see boarder security as one issue - though I can't get behind building a wall. But as a Christian and a pastor of souls my first concern is for the spiritual and material well being of the flock entrusted to my care, no matter how they got to my parish. So, I will fight any immigration reform that involves mass deportations and the division of families. Families are the ultimate protectors of life, and there is no hope of safeguarding human dignity apart from the family unit. Our parishioners are, first and foremost members of the Mystical Body, and that's the primary citizenship that concerns me. When our Pro-Life group goes and prays the rosary outside an abortion mill no one asks for their green card (two such "clinics" have been closed down after we started praying outside their doors. We're presently working on a third). I'm not suggesting lawlessness, but that we see the complexity of the issue, and the humanity of it's victims.
4. Electoral College Blues. I'm surprised I haven't seen more about the split between popular and electoral votes, which the last time I checked had Secretary Clinton about 400,000 popular votes ahead nationally in spite of Mr. Trumps insurmountable lead in the Electoral College (EC). One of my fellow pastors, who wasn't happy about Trump's win, called the system "crazy." I get it, but I'm actually one of those crazies who thinks the electoral system, while imperfect, was actually a stroke of genius on the part of the framers. Contrary to what the Chicago Tribune editorialized a decade ago, there are deep regional differences in the United States still. The EC was formulated to insure that less populace, agricultural regions would have a proportional voice in who became president. Back then the fear was that the great New England and Mid-Atlantic interests would dominate, leaving the Southern and (then) Western regions constantly beholden. In today's context, without the EC New York, Chicago and Los Angeles would decide the presidency most cycles. Here, a candidate doesn't simply have to win a few key metropolitan areas, but has to appeal to a wider swath of the populace to win the presidency. After the 1968 election, which was both an electoral and popular vote nail biter, there was serious talk of reforming the system, but the movement fizzled, even though it had bi-partisan support. I would be in favor of revisiting the issue. My greater worry is that in four of the last 7 presidential elections the winner has garnered less than 50% of the popular vote. Since 2000 two have seen a split between the popular and electoral tallies, something the hadn't happened since 1876. I could be in favor of some reform, if it included a run-off system, like what was proposed in the aftermath of '68, that would get us down to two finalists, and a better chance of a clear popular winner. 

That's it for now. Whether I was pithy or not, I'll leave up to you. For those out there unhappy with the outcome, especially you protesters - late 2018-early '19 we'll start it all over again, and we'll all have another chance.

One Last Ramble Before Election Day

Tomorrow is Election Day, when the American people will "quietly (wield) their staggering power," as Walter Mondale once put it. He said those words in defeat, after being denied a second term as Vice President by the U.S. electorate. During this latest primary season someone, I don't remember who, said that the best speech a candidate gives is often the one given in concession. If this is true, and I tend to believe it is, it's because of our political system that puts public service before personal ambition. The vanquished often congratulates the winner, gives a summation of the reasons why he or she ran, thanks those who helped in the campaign and vows to either return to the fight or else assist from the sidelines. Like Vice President Mondale, they usually express humility, and acknowledge, often quite eloquently, that they were a part of a reality bigger than themselves, that they are merely servants of the people, not their masters. This is the ideal, I know - an ideal that is too often put on a shelf to collect dust once victory has been accepted. 

Ideals are important, though, and I'm not sure Americans in 2016 are idealistic enough. Ideals are what guide us on the straight path or else are beacons to point us to the way back if we have gone astray. No one, short of our Lord and our Lady have ever managed to live their ideals perfectly, but for the rest of us virtue lies in the honest effort we put forth to remember who we are, where we come from and what we stand for, and then embody those things in how we live. This particular ideal, that it is the staggering power of the people that decides their leadership, and for how long, which is meant to keep the political class humble and focused on the things that really matter. 

In other words public servants are meant to be exactly that - servants. They are not in their respective positions to gain private advantage but to offer their abilities for the public good. I would even go further and say the they are not there to advance a purely political or ideological agenda. Ideology implemented or institutionalized for its own sake is an invitation to totalitarian dictatorship. Presidents or governors may have some guiding political philosophy or economic theory that they believe works best, but these are tools that help them do their job - to improve the lot of the people they serve. While the Constitution isn't a sacred text, it is a legal document, the highest civil document in the United States. It is the guiding framework by which we judge all other civil laws. To pursue some fundamental change of how the nation functions apart from the Constitution takes us down the road of national amnesia. Of course the amending or, even the complete revision of the Constitution by a special convention of the States is possible. Right now I'm not at all sure that the Constitution as written really plays any meaningful part in how laws are formulated and policies implemented. We have forgotten who we are and what our national purpose is. We are being guided by either ideology or expedience, but rarely by the rule of law. It is a state of might makes right, with people seeking office too often driven by a desire for power - which might be worse than the crooked politician tempted by mammon. 

The great law which supersedes all is the Law of Love laid out in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It would be a gross error, though, to assume that Christians want, or should want, a theocracy. If we look at what Peter and Paul write in their letters on the topic of the relationship between the community of believers and the state we find a kind of semi—detached, go a long with the flow but don’t get swept away by it attitude being promoted. Of course Christians were on the outside of political power looking in at that point. They had been expelled from the synagogue and were considered a suspect cult by the Roman civil authorities. It made sense to lay low and not cause waves. If we were asked to offer sacrifices of incense to the emperor, or some other action that was clearly contradictory to the faith, Christians were to resist, even to the point of martyrdom, but otherwise believers were to strive to be peaceful citizens and good neighbors, praying for the good of the nation and the king (though there is evidence that Christians did participated in acts of civil disobedience against Roman authorities during periods of relative peace). 

If we go back to ancient Israel, when God’s people did control the levers of power in their own land, God didn't force a particular form of government on His people. God was considered the sovereign during the time of Moses and the judges, but how the practical day to day running of the tribes was to be handled was left up to them. In fact it was Jethro, Moses’ gentile father-in-law who suggested to him how to organize the leaders of the people, so that the burden of governance placed on Moses' shoulders could be delegated. When the tribes clamored for a king, so they could be like the rest of the nations, God didn't forbid it, even though He warned against it. 

In each instance God was to be consulted, either through referring to scripture or else through the prophets, but He wasn't, and isn't, a dictator. He gives us the freedom to organize civil society as we see fit. Gospel principles are to guide us through this process, but doesn't bind us to a procedure. 

Such an arraignment only works if the civil authority understands that it functions under God. Not under the Church as an institution, but under divine wisdom as expressed in the natural law, at the very least. A nation only really prospers, and despotism avoided when presidents, prime ministers, and even monarchs, bow to an authority greater than themselves. All the great dictatorships of the twentieth century somehow demanded the loyalty of the people at the expense of all other possible allegiances. This included ties to family as well as the obedience due to God. 

If there is a crisis right now, it is rooted in the fact that the United States, in its civic life, has lost touch with this basic concept. It has interpreted freedom of religion as meaning freedom from religion. More and more government is placing obedience to its laws above the obligation of the Christian to follow God's. And I'm not just talking about in regards to the contraceptive mandate or gay marriage. There are places in our nation where you can be arrested for feeding the homeless. In 2012 New York City put restrictions on restaurants donating food to soup kitchens and shelters, because it's better for the homeless to starve to death immediately than risk the high blood pressure from too much salt later on. We are becoming a nation where fulfilling the basics that the Gospel requires is becoming more and more difficult. If obstacles are placed in the way of even performing the basic works that Mercy requires, how can we ever hope to address the weightier issues before us?

The present situation reminds us that the Church of Christ is on pilgrimage in this world, even as Her members call the nations of the earth “home.” These are only temporary ones, true, but we still have the responsibility to be politically engaged. We have the obligation to ensure the rights of the Church to function, unmolested by the civil authorities, while Her members are free to promote justice and contribute to the common good of the societies in which we live. We should be careful though not to confuse things. Because a civil government or political movement seems to share certain Gospel values, or holds the Church in favor, doesn't mean that they represent “God’s Party.” 

The Church functions best in a political culture informed by the spirit of servant leadership, as the Church calls it, that I highlighted above. Unfortunately the spirit of our age is rather conformed to the notion that the goal of the politician is to gain or maintain political power, then organize and control the social order - either by implementing a rigid ideology or (and possibly in addition to) for the purpose of personal economic gain. As long as the Church is seen as an aid to achieving these ends, She will be in the good graces of the civil authority. If the Church is perceived as standing in the way, she will be at the very least marginalized or at worst persecuted. There are exemptions, I'm sure, but for the most part the politically powerful today see the Church is an alien in a strange land and will either tolerate, use, or crush Her as the shifting political tides dictate. 

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Our Vice Provincial has been conducting the yearly visit, mandated by our Salesian constitutions, so I've been writing this in snatches. If I'm rambling a bit, that is at least partially the reason why. While time to write has been at a premium, so has time to read. Judging from headlines what I've noticed is that Catholics are either being told that voting the pro—life candidate is a moral imperative, even if the standard bearer is suspect, or else this election is proof of how we've put our faith in the wrong thing — namely the power of politics, divorced from Gospel values, to effect positive change. One headline, quoting the psalms, reminded us to not put our trust in horses or warrior’s strength. I've tended to be be in the latter camp. I wrote before that I couldn't vote for an aggressively pro abortion candidate — and I could maybe pull the lever for a “pro—choice” candidate if his or her opponent shared this position, and they represented the less harmful of the options available. My dilemma this year is over not only who to vote for, but even if to vote at all — a decision I will keep between God and myself. 


We should not put our faith in horses or warrior’s strength, nor in political platforms or ideologies. We shouldn't even put our faith in the staggering power we wield in the voting booth, especially not now. This is so, not simply because we are fallible people who can make the wrong choice, or that no matter who we choose seems to be the wrong choice. It's because, collectively, we have forgotten who we are. We have forgotten our own Constitution, and the principles that under gird it. We have forgotten how to integrate our life in Christ with our public responsibilities. We have been so caught up with protecting and expanding our individual rights that we've forgotten the responsibility we have to the common good. We have been so conditioned to believe that separation of Church and state means a divorce of religious values from public life that we will vote for politicians whose policies violate the very foundation of human dignity.

I've been writing a great deal over the last six months or so about the political crisis in our nation. I've tried to be non—partisan in my analysis, and if I've betrayed a bias, I apologize. I don't think complete impartiality is possible for us mere humans, but I still try. I do sincerely believe though the present crisis is a bipartisan affair that can't be pined on one side or another. 

I don't believe that the problem is the system, either. As imperfect as our Constitution is, it works pretty well if we use it correctly. But in an age when vice is considered virtue and licence is confused for liberty, the political system becomes a mechanism of self serving tyranny. The renewal of the political life of the United Sates will only happen when we recognize that there is a power greater than the government, even bigger than we the people. The reform of the political system will only happen through the revival of faith that points us, and the culture, to a standard outside and greater than ourselves. 

Cubs Fans Learn Perspective

I was speaking with a friend of mine, Shannon, a Cubs fan since childhood, decked out in her Chicago shirt and hat. It was the middle of Game 6 of the World Series. She was waitressing and I was sitting with other friends watching the game at a restaurant I like to go to on my evening off. She swung by the bar and asked me, "You're a Yankee fan, right?"

"Yeah, right."

"How do you handle this? You guys are in the playoffs like, every year. The pressure is killing me."

"We pace ourselves." I explained.

I wasn't going to tell someone who's team hadn't won a pennant since just after V-J Day, and last Series crown came when there were 46 stars on the American Flag some sob story about my guys missing out on serious October baseball, as New York radio personality Steve "the Schmoozer" Somers calls it, three out of the last four seasons. The Yankees have had more post seasons than years this young woman's been alive. In a way, we do pace ourselves, because Yankee fans have perspective. We're always grateful for making the tournament, but some years we know that we don't have it, or there are other teams that are just better. So, we curb our expectations. We've been through the mill a few times. Even if we had a great regular season, and we think that we should be considered the rightful favorites, things don't always work out. For all the times we've won, we've lost some heart breakers as well. Do I have to mention 2004? 

Cubs fans have, better put had, no perspective. Until 11:44 pm Central Daylight Time Wednesday night all they knew was disappointment the few times over the years they actually made it to extra baseball. Otherwise, when mathematical elimination came, usually weeks before the regular schedule was completed, they contented themselves with being the "Lovable Losers." This is a fan base whose local newspapers run stories reminiscing over second place finishes and first round exits. They have no perspective, to say the least. 

I remember 2003. I was in the midst of my first assignment here in Chicago. The Cubs were skating along, hovering around .500, but in the race because of the weak competition in the Central that season. Then they caught fire in September, going 19-8, to win the division by one game. They actually lost the day they clinched, but the fans at Wrigley went wild, nonetheless. Center fielder Kenny Lofton, veteran of many post season disappointments, including two World Series losses, didn't get the euphoria. He said to the TV reporter - who was breathlessly asking the experienced pro for his first impression of the scene at the Friendly Confines, and I paraphrase, "I don't know what they (the fans) are getting so excited about. We haven't won anything yet."

Lofton didn't get it. He had perspective, Cubs fans didn't. They were basking in the moment, in that childhood spell that tells you anything is possible. They never knew victory, at least not the ultimate victory, and the North Siders who had were long gone to their eternal reward. They wanted to celebrate, anything. That they were celebrating a division title the way fans in New York or Boston celebrate a World Series can be chalked up to that lack of perspective born of innocence. They were grateful for just having made it. They wanted to celebrate because, in light of all the disappointments of the previous 95 years, they weren't sure when they would have the chance again. This itself is having things in perspective in a way, isn't it?

That night, Shannon also shared with me the thought that winning might not be such a great thing, after all. She wanted them to win, of course, but in finally breaking the "Curse" the Cubbies would be just like everyone else. That lovable loser image had become a badge of honor: Cubs fans stick with their team, sell out Wrigley, have a national following beyond Chicagoland, and this loyalty is not rooted in how many titles they have won. There is no Cubs bandwagon. As Eddie Vedder sings, these are "not fair-weather but foul-weather fans." Now, if victory came, what would make them different? 

The jaded Yankees fan in me saw this as the baseball version of Stockholm syndrome. I wondered if North Siders have been the subject of such outrageous fortune so often, from the collapse of 1969, to throwing victory into the jaws of defeat in 1984, to the debacle, unfairly placed on the shoulders of a solitary fan, that did indeed spoil what was an otherwise magical 2003 run, to the just plain mediocrity interspersed between sporadic playoff appearances, that they've been knocked down so often that such emotional beat downs felt like a kiss? Could it be that, in their overall lack of perspective, Cubby fans had become totally deranged, identifying so closely with the abuse that the baseball gods have inflicted upon them that they though that losing was actually a good thing - a cause whose flag had to be flown?

Well, there are no such things as "baseball gods," just as there was never any "Curse of the Billy Goat." I was frustrated by the added myth that losing conferred nobility, and to continue down the road of futility somehow was its own reward. Losing can build character, true, and the victory is only really sweet after a hard fought struggle, "but enough is enough, already," I thought. There is a difference between long suffering sacrifice that leads to a goal and masochism, and these fans had obviously lost perspective, if they ever had it to begin with.

Wednesday night I started watching the Game 7 at home, but had to pick up the Vice Provincial at O'Hare. He is doing the yearly visitation in place of the Provincial. I watched until about the seventh inning. Fr. Greg, a life long Red Sox fan (yes, we get along well) and I were in agreement that Cubs skipper Joe Maddon was over managing the game, specifically his pitchers. Kyle Hendricks, the starter was rolling, practically un-hittable, when he was lifted for Jon Lester after 4 and two-thirds. We are both clear minded fans of the game, and have perspective born of both victory and defeat. We could see a manager losing his own perspective, and Joe Maddon was so caught up in a combination of advanced metrics  and myth making that he couldn't see the obvious: that the game wasn't broke, so he didn't need to fix it. 

Hendricks had given up a walk, and Maddon took this as the opportunity to go with his ace. Its a sexy move managers in elimination games like pull. The warrior hurler, coming off mega-short rest who puts it all on the line to ensure victory for the team. Madison Bumgarner, the San Francisco ace, accomplished such a feat in 2014, solidifying his reputation as the iron horse of the pitching rubber. This is usually done when the team is behind by a run or clinging to a slim lead, and the starter is shaky, but this game was 5-1 Cubs at that point. Lester was coming in on two days rest, and with a runner on first base. As a lefty, one would expect that he should have a good pick-off move, but he doesn't. His aversion to throwing to any base but home keeps him from even trying to field batted balls, unless they are hit right at him. Catcher David Ross had to rush a throw on a slow grounder that, arguably, Lester should have fielded, putting runners on second and third after said throw went up the right field line for an error. A wild pitch later, two runs were in and the Indians were back in the game. You could feel the momentum switch, in spite of Ross' solo homer in the top the next inning. 

I left, and while I was driving the eerily empty streets of the North West Side, Aroldis Chapman, the flame throwing closer, who was already overworked because of the quick hook Maddon had the night before with the equally effective starter Jake Arrieta, came in the game. As I approached the railroad crossing on River Road the red lights began to flash, the guard rails came down and the Tribe's Rajai Davis pulled a two run homer down the left field line to tie the game. I wasn't sure if I was going to run off the road or plow into the freight train barreling down the tack toward the Loop. 

I also wasn't sure what I was angrier at: that Maddon was in the process of managing the Cubs out of a World Series win, or that I, a jaded Yankees fan cared so much. "Perspective," I kept on telling myself, "Perspective. You want them to win, of course, but don't lose your head." I was thinking of the fans, and not in some abstract way. I thought of Shannon, but also Enrique, a parishioner who seems to have a different Cubs shirt for each day of the week, and waited nine hours on line for Game 4 tickets (God only knows what he paid). I thought of Edwin, the son of one our leading parishioners who's bled Cubby Blue his whole life. I thought of an entire city (except for the most hardened White Sox fans) that was living and dying with this team, on this run. They took losing in the playoffs last year in stride, confident that the foundation had been laid for a winner in 2016. Now here they were, so close after going down 3-1 to a sold Cleveland team, to finally breaking through. And it was all evaporating because their manager was being too clever by half. I was angry, and didn't care much about perspective at that point.

When I hit the airport I was shocked to see that all the TV monitors in the terminal were switched to CNN. As the streets had been unusually devoid of traffic, so was O'Hare overcome by a preternatural emptiness. Only a very few were milling about the Starbucks kiosk at Terminal 2 Baggage Claim, heads in their cell phones and tablets trying to follow the action the best they could. The flight was late. There were thunderstorms in and around Chicago all day, and everything was delayed coming in and out. I traversed the subterranean passages connecting the terminals to the O'Hare Hilton and watched from the peripheries of the bar on the main level. The crowd was thick, but the mood was still hopeful, but tense. One of the servers weaved through the loiterers and as she brushed past I could hear her mutter, with eyes looking into the mid-distance, "I can't take this tension." When the Cubs failed to score I too was overcome with frustration and decided to go back and wait for the Vicar at baggage.  

After the 17 minute rain delay, which ended as we hit the road, we heard the go ahead runs score. We got home in time  to see the final three outs, and pop a bottle of champagne I had chilling since the NLCS ended. The sound of fire works began to fill the night, just as it had done when they clinched the pennant 12 days before. We - Fr. Tim, the Vice Provincial, Fr. Greg and Fr. Rich toasted, but Greg and I were still sore about the needless drama caused by an overanxious manager.

In the days that followed I realized that I was the one who needed perspective. They had won, finally. The city was overjoyed. "Let it go, and cherish the moment," I thought. "This wasn't the time for you to be the overly critical Yankee fan, for whom it seems even winning isn't enough." But I had allowed myself to get emotionally involved beyond all reason. 

Mine wasn't the most extreme case of getting caught up in the moment, though. Joe "the Cop", a retired Chicago police officer told me that during Game 7, "My heart was pounding and my chest was getting tight. It felt like I was back walking point in Vietnam. I'm thinkin', 'What in the (heck) am I gettin' so excited about? I mean, I ain't got no money on this or nothin'.'" Yeah, he knew that he had lost all perspective, but that's what fans of this beautiful game do when it really matters. We may lose all perspective, if we still keep our innocence, though, it's glorious. 

Now that I am a man, I've put childish ways behind me. I see the game with adult eyes and sensibilities. That's fine, to a point. But we should never lose that ability to accept the good things and bad that can happen when you're playing without a clock, and the only thing that can save you or stop you is the next pitch. It's looking at the game as a child does, with wide eyed wonder. 

As for me, I think I gained some perspective too. Friday, the day of the victory parade that snaked its way from Wrigley to Grant Park in the Loop, I was in my office, watching the festivities as they streamed online. The kids from the charter school we lease to were at recess. My office window faces the street, so I can hear them play in the parking lot, but can't see what they're doing. Suddenly I heard what seemed like an ocean of prepubescent voices singing out the refrain of the Steve Goodman song, "Go Cubs, Go! / Go Cubs, Go! Hey, Chicago, what a ya say? / The Cubs are gonna win today!" I though that maybe they were holding an organized rally for the younger kids who didn't go to the parade with the 7th and eighth graders. 

But, no. When I got to the kitchen window, the kids were skipping and jumping and playing as usual. The sing along was spontaneous, euphoric - encapsulating the wonder of youth. I remembered the first time my team won, when I was ten. I didn't second guess the manager back then, or worry about pitch counts or curse the shift. Back then I took in the poetry, the drama and the simple, romantic dream of men playing a boy's game. I found myself holding back tears, hoping that these children, and and all Cubs fans keep their innocence as they gain their well earned perspective. 

St. Charles Borromeo - A Tiny Spark (11/4/16) from AOP

As Through Fire (11/2/16) All Soul's Day from AOP

November 2016 Evangelization Intention from AOP

All Saints Day (11/1/16) from AOP