Tuesday, December 26, 2017

Twilight of the Gods: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi Movie Review

Just to get it out of the way, this will be a SPOILER FREE review. Though The Last Jedi's been out since December 15, I'm sure there are still plenty of people that are seeing it for the first time in this week between Christmas and New Year. I'll have a more in-depth, spoilers galore, review in a few weeks.

Since Kylo Ren impaled Han Solo on his laser sword in The Force Awakens (2015), the new Star Wars franchise overlords at Disney have been slowly sweeping away the old to make room for the new characters. It's understandable: we're forty years removed from the original trilogy, the iconic actors from those films are all on social security and, sadly Carrie Fisher passed away unexpectedly a year ago this week. Jumping from galaxy to galaxy, battling villainy and destroying star systems is a young person's game, so the time had come for fresh blood to rejuvenate the series. There is one big caveat here: the producers knew that they had to replace the old guard carefully so as not to alienate the notoriously nostalgia obsessed Star Wars fan base, who were still stinging over the perceived failure of the prequels (I never saw them, so I'm keeping my mouth shut about it). The Force Awakens played it safe in many ways by featuring Harrison Ford, reprising his career making role as Solo, along with healthy doses of call backs to the earlier films (you could argue that Force was practically a "soft" remake of 1977's A New Hope). Yet Solo's character is allowed to die off, and Mark Hamill's Luke Skywalker remains unseen until the very end of the movie. In The Last Jedi both Leia Organa (Carrie Fisher) and Luke play major rolls, but by the end it is clear that the new guard, led by Rey (Daisy Ridley), Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) and Finn (John Boyega) are in command of both the resistance and the evil First Order. The fate of the galaxy is now firmly in the hands of the young generation.

The Last Jedi takes up where Force ended, sort of. Before we get to Rey and Luke on the cliff, where we saw them last, the rest of the Rebel outfit are forced to escape from their base by the regrouped First Order baddies. I got a sinking feeling at this point, because this was exactly the same way The Empire Strikes Back (1980) began. My new hope was that The Force Awakens represented the end of the fan service, and the series would find its own way this time around. Eventually the new film does go in it's own direction, splitting time between Rey's training under Luke Skywalker, the Rebels trying to out run the First Order Fleet and Finn, along with a new character named Rose, trying to find a code breaker on a Monte Carlo-esque planet, so they can hack the First Order's new tracking mechanism, thus ensuring the decimated Rebel fleet's escape. Underpinning all this action is the relationship between Rey and Kylo Ren. Both are strong in the force, both are drawn to each other, struggling between the Dark Side and the Light, and on which side they should ally themselves together on. Both Luke and Leia are vitally important to the story, but by the end it's clear that the saga now belongs to the new players. 

The results of this continued passing of the baton are somewhat mixed. There is no arguing with the actors, or their characters' development, for the most part. Ridley continues her strong work as the scavenger turned apprentice Jedi trying to find her way in life. Driver is a real actor, not just a guy in a mask, who brings depth to Kylo Ren. Last time around he was a Darth Vader fanboy, here he descends to levels of deceit that would make his grandfather proud. Oscar Isaac's Poe Dameron, who did relatively little last time out, is brash and impulsive, breaking rules, defying orders, but always with the cause in mind - and an obvious filial devotion to Leia. The only one who still seems like a blank slate in Boyega's Finn. Again, the British actor is fine, but in spite of his ample screen time it's difficult to know who he is or why he's sticking around. It's clear that Finn is now a true believer in the resistance, but I'm still not sure why. 

Laura Dern makes what ends up being an extended cameo as an admiral who has to make some controversial moves in Leia's absence. Benicio del Toro makes an equally brief appearance as a shady, cynical mercenary who's loyalties are ambiguous. We are introduced to Rose (Kelly Marie Tran), a Resistance member who lost a sister during battle, and has a soft spot for Finn. Gwendoline Christie makes a second appearance as Captain Phasma, though much like the first go around I'm not sure why - she's on screen so little. 

Some will complain, I'm sure, about a slow moving second act, but it was necessary to ease up a bit on the action to give the characters room to grow, developing their own voice. If there was a weakness in the pacing, it's that the film has about three different endings, going on for at least 20 minutes too many. As I hint at above, there are also too many characters that I'm expected to care about. On the positive side, the performances are uniformly strong, the set pieces are exciting, cutting the difference between slickly choreographed martial arts displays (which the Prequels were sometimes criticized for) and spontaneous, emotionally charged action, a hallmark of the originals. Another positive is that you don't have to have seen The Force Awakens to enjoy this, though it certainly wouldn't hurt. The down side is that the movie lacks a true cliff hanger ending. Other than figuring out how they'll deal with Carrie Fisher's absence next time around, the movie ends on a positive note, which left me not terribly anxious about what happens next. 

If you're like me, you're going to see this movie, and the next installment in the ongoing series, the still untitled Episode IX in 2019, just because - forget the critics. We grew up with Star Wars, and we want to see it through. I liked The Force Awakens, and like the Rey and Kylo characters. I see potential there for some interesting twists and turns. There is a certain deconstructing of the Star Wars mythology here that can open the series up to new possibilities, though such a move is not necessarily positive, which I'll get into later in my spoilers review. 

There is obviously an emotional pall that hangs over The Last Jedi, in spite of the action and general good feeling. The film makers couldn't have know that Carrie Fisher was going to die, and even though filming wrapped well before her death in December, 2016, the producers decided to go with the original cut. The one spoiler I'll include here is that the character of Leia Organa survives this adventure, but we all know that this is Fisher's last appearance, outside of possible flashbacks, that she will make in these, or any films. There are two instances when what were meant to be emotionally affective scenes involving Leia and Luke are amplified by the added knowledge of real life events. It made for a melancholy ride, with more than a tear or two, to say the least. 

I am left saddened primarily but not only because of the specter of Fisher's death. With The Last Jedi we have come to the end of the original cycle. Han Solo is dead, Luke's future is left somewhat uncertain, and we know that Leia will not return, even if this news hasn't reached the Star Wars "universe" yet. The past was literally burned down, and in many of the themes pursued, it was spiritually set ablaze as well. Star Wars was created by Baby Boomers for a Gen X audience (though in 1977 Generation X was the name of a punk band, not a sociological cohort). With The Last Jedi Star Wars now belongs to the Millennials, lock stock and barrel. This isn't a bad thing, per say. But in forging a new path, which the series must, I'm afraid that, as with this postmodern age we live in, the baby is being thrown out with the blue milk. To explore this idea I'll need to get into spoilers, which I'm not ready to do right now. In a few weeks I'll be back with a deeper analysis of The Force Awakens, spoilers and all. 

Saturday, December 23, 2017

O Antiphon for December 23: O Emmanuel

I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver, desire of the nations, Savior of all people, come and set us free, Lord our God

In many ways this final O Antiphon, O Emmanuel, sums up and synthesizes the ones that have come before. There are many titles from Scripture that are applied to Jesus Christ, from both the Old and New Testaments, but there is only one Christ. Whether we say that He is the LORD - Adonai, God's Wisdom, the Son of Man or Son of David, they all point us to the reality of the Incarnation. He is the image of the invisible God, the first born of creation (Col. 1:15), who emptied himself, coming in our human likeness (Phil. 2:7) to save us from our sins (Mt. 1:21). He is the ultimate, eloquent expression of the Father's love. God searched the garden looking for Adam after the Fall (Gen. 3:8-9), spoke to the Patriarchs and sent prophets, in hopes of our return. Finally, in Jesus we have God's Wisdom, Lordly authority, with its implied sovereignty over Israel and the world, embodied. Jesus is the rising Dawn that enlightens out hearts. In coming to us in the line of Jesse, He shares our humanity while possessing complete divinity. He is truly Emmanuel, God with us. 

The main origin of this title comes from Isaiah 7. At this point the Davidic kingdom is split in two, with the northern tribes having established the Kingdom of Israel in Samaria. Judah is the Southern Kingdom, centered in Jerusalem, and at this time they are being threatened by the combined forces of the Northern Kingdom and Syria. God, through the prophet, assures King Ahaz that he will be given a sign, the birth of a successor who will succeed him on the throne. He need not fear, but put his trust in God, and Judah would be delivered from their present danger and endure, with a Davidic king on the throne. 

We know though that the Southern Kingdom would eventually fall and the Davidic line come to an end. In chapter nine the "child born to us," (scholars debate over whether this is the same as the promised Emmanuel of chapter 7) is described as being a Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace. A tall order for any mere mortal to fill. Could the prophet have had another in mind, along with the contemporary monarch, when he spoke this oracle? Again, I'll leave the debates to the scholars. The Church, for her part, has long seen these prophesies as finding their culmination in Jesus: Emmanuel -  God with us who came to save His people from their sins. 

As disciples we are called to have a long term vision. God makes his promises, but often fulfills them in unexpected ways. During much of the heart of Advent we mediated on John the Baptist. He was the precursor who came in the spirit of Elijah to prepare the way for Jesus' public ministry. When asked, he denied being the Messiah, but even demurred from being identified with the prophet. Yet Jesus tells us flat out that his cousin was indeed Elijah, a messenger rejected. Was John being modest when he said that he wasn't taking Elijah's place, or did he not really know that that was the function he was playing in Salvation History? Again, I'll leave that question to others more qualified than myself. It's for us to keep our eyes open, to see the Lord working in our everyday lives, in unexpected ways. 

At Christmas we celebrate God coming down from on high, entering our history in a particular way. God had always been close to us, but because of sin He seemed distant. He wanted to leave no doubts that He loved us, and in Jesus we have the proof. He came in an unexpected way, not in glory, but in poverty. He didn't conquer death by inflicting violence, but allowed Himself to endure the cruel brutality of the Passion. He continues to remind us of His presence through the Eucharist - His Body and Blood that appears to us as simple bread and wine. He forgives sins through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. 

He has made the promise that, if we persevere in faith, we will also share in the Resurrection of the just. Because 2,000 years have passed, it's tempting to question: When will all be completed? Advent is here to remind us to keep on looking forward in faith. It also reminds us to live the Kingdom now, being a positive leaven that influences and changes the world. Through it all, God is with us. He isn't far away, but is very close. May our hearts be ready to receive the Dawn from on high. May we be guided by His holy wisdom. May he be Lord of our hearts. May Emmanuel be praised now and forever!

Friday, December 22, 2017

O Antiphon for December 22: O King of the Nations

I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

O King of all the nations, the only joy of every human heart; O Keystone of the mighty arch of man, come and save the creature you fashioned from the dust. 

Today's antiphon - O King of the nations (Rex Gentum) is related to the phrase we sung two days ago, that proclaimed that the Messiah would sit on the royal throne of David, bearing the keys of his authority. Today we sing that He is also King of the nations, gathering all the peoples of the world onto the Lord's mountain (Is. 2:2). 

This antiphon brings us back to our origins as a species. God formed us from the "dust of the earth," (Gen. 2:7). Yet we were also created in God's immortal image (Gen. 1:26-27). We possess this tension within us, between our natural "animal" instincts and the Divine stamp that marks us as different from the "beasts of the field." We were the only creatures created for our own sake. God's plan was to redeem fallen humanity, not angels (Hb. 2:16), even though they are much higher in being and glory than we are. Sin forms a chasm between us and God. It is God who searches for us, calls us to return. When our first parents sinned, it was God who is described as walking through the garden, calling out to the man, "Where are you?" (Gen. 3:9). Out of shame they hid, believing that the fissure between them and their Creator was insurmountable. 

Jesus Christ is the bridge that connects fallen humanity with God. As the priest prays at Mass, in hushed tones, when he mixes the water and wine together at the preparation of the gifts, as Christ humbled Himself to share in our humanity, so we ask that we may come to share in His divinity. That is His promise, in which the Eucharist is a foretaste. That which was created good, blessed, holy, but fell into sin will be renewed. With that Original Blessing restored, countless supernatural gifts added as well.

Until the Lord's return, and this new reality is established, we still live this tension: of wanting to do good, but too often doing the evil we really don't (Rom. 7:19). But Christ has not left us orphans. As we heard yesterday, He is the light that dispels the darkness. We need to make our heart a home and our soul throne for the King of Glory. If we let Him rule our lives, follow the grace he gifts to us, there is no darkness that can overcome us. 

And as I wrote before, there is a lot of darkness in the world. It can work on that tension we feel in our souls. While we need to be aware of what's going on in far off places, and live in solidarity with the oppressed on the other side of the world, we need to act locally. The sad truth is that there isn't much we can do about the war in Syria or terrorism in Europe. When tragedy strikes some far off place, our immediate response is to want to do something. It can be frustrating because the quick answer seems to be to text a donation to a Red Cross. I'm not criticizing giving to charities, like the Red Cross or the Salesian Missions, but something in our gut tells us that this isn't enough. We can get frustrated  and lose hope. A solution to this disquiet, for instance, can be to ask what we can do to address the violence in the cities we may live in? How can we help the poor in our neighborhood? If we live in a place that is peaceful and secure, is there a soup kitchen or food pantry in a nearby municipality that could use a helping hand? 

With Christ as King of our lives, we become more responsive to the needs of those around us. We begin to see the world with His eyes, and judge situations with His wisdom. We no longer live solely by our natural instincts, but it is Christ who lives in us (Gal. 2:20). The struggle doesn't end, the tension doesn't go away completely, but we live with greater hope and confidence. 

I wrote that I would develop further my thoughts on the Kingship of Christ and how it relates to the political sphere, but I won't right now. After some prayer and reflection I can see that what was written two days ago is enough on that matter for now. I will only reiterate the point that our goal isn't to establish a theocracy, much less forced conversions. Yes, God wants all nations brought into His gentle reign, and be the King of the hearts of all men and women. But on this I'm reminded of the famous painting of Jesus, by William Holman Hunt. Our Lord stands, lantern in hand, knocking on the door of someone's house. It was pointed out to the artist that he had made a mistake; the door had no knob. He replied that there was no mistake. The knob is on the inside of the door. Jesus knocks, He may even call out, "Where are you?", like God to Adam, but he won't break in. He waits for us to answer, open the door, and give Him our hearts. 

Christ is King, but he isn't a dictator. He isn't a brute. He knocks, and asks us to answer. If we live our call to be the light of the world, allowing Christ to reign in our hearts, to be the King of our lives, then we will be His instruments in drawing others to the Mountain of the Lord.  


Thursday, December 21, 2017

Postmodern Religious Substitutes Part 1: Ideology

Dr. Jordan Peterson, reluctant provocateur
Some people binge watch shows on Netflix, I employ a similar strategy with video clips of university lectures and interviews of all kinds on YouTube. One week it's everything scholarly about the Battle of the Bulge, the next its archival interviews of George Harrison, followed by a fortnight with Peter Kreeft. Lately I've been all about Dr. Jordan Peterson, a Canadian clinical psychologist and professor who has caused quite a stir north of the U.S. border for his defense of free speech, along with his sharp criticism of postmodernism and its popular offspring, political correctness. Specifically he's been critical of the expansion of the Canadian Bill of Rights to include sexual orientation and gender preference. It's not that he thinks that homosexuality or transgenderism should be prohibited, but that the provisions, to his mind, are vague, self contradictory and could lead to people being prosecuted for using the wrong pronoun, even inadvertently. Peterson not only posts interviews and talks, but publishes videos of his entire university course on personality, well over 40 hours of classroom instruction. I'm not sure how the University of Toronto lets him get away with putting all those credit hours out there for free, but I'm personally grateful. I haven't sat through an entire course, opting to click on the shorter clips, digesting the lectures in chunks.

What makes Dr. Peterson so refreshing is that he is more of a philosopher than a clinician, though he is that as well. He situates his psychological theory within the context of human and cultural history, drawing greatly on the theories of Carl Jung. He believes in God and by his own reckoning is a Christian, yet he references Nietzsche to back up his thought. He is critical of the Catholic Church, but nonetheless quotes the Magisterium approvingly. He takes into account the historical, mythological, religious and evolutionary factors that make human beings the the way they are, arguing that no one theory can capture what motivates us to act as we do. What on the surface may seem like contradictions are on closer examination simply Peterson’s ability to draw distinctions. The Church of Rome as an institution is flawed - he would say corrupt - but Her intellectual tradition has a lot going for it. Nietzsche and Freud may have been wrong in their ultimate conclusions, but it doesn't mean that their observations of reality were completely off, and in many cases were dead on. 

An important idea Peterson points out is that when Nietzsche famously proclaimed that God was dead, he followed it up by saying that, 

"And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves?" 

Far from being a declaration of victory he knew that what could very well follow was chaos and nihilism. Nietzsche, along with Dostoyevsky (from the Orthodox Christian perspective), understood that the fall of the Christian ethic would throw traditional western morality off it's foundations because it's truth isn't self evident. If care wasn't taken to formulate a new, compelling secular morality the results would be tragic. 

Nietzsche, even more than a century after his death, remains one of the most enigmatic, as well as influential, figures in Western thought. Some say he was a proto-Nazi, supplying the intellectual fuel for the might makes right, will to power totalitarianism of Adolf Hitler. Others claim this is a distortion promoted by his sister after Nietzsche died. In reality he's more like a forefather of the hippies, who saw the rejection of traditional religious morality and subjection of Enlightenment reason as being a path to true human liberation. I agree that tagging him a fascist is a bum rap, but even if we accept the latter interpretation he comes off as terribly naïve. That God as the standard by which reality is judged has passed away is indisputable, but the consequences have been far from sanguine. 

God, or more precisely religion as the vital, informing principle in society, effectively died in Europe with the French Revolution, and what resulted was the rise of political ideologies that replaced devotion to God with total loyalty to the state sponsored system and, in many case, the leader himself. Oppression and genocide came in turn. The United States has done a better job paying lip service to the centrality of God in our lives, but even Fulton Sheen as far back in the 1940's recognized that the United States had embraced a form of materialism that put economic progress and consumerism ahead of spiritual considerations. When our morality is rooted in something less than God we are left in a quicksand of ever changing values. We today have adopted a shallow social agreeableness that we've been able to skate by on, but it has no strength to stand up against the rising tide of extremism that is engulfing us from both without and within. To fill the void left by the death of God, ideology has rushed in. Ideology is our religion, whether we know it or not. 

This ideology is rooted in a combination of Nietzschean radical self determination and Marxist dialectic. On the one hand we are freed from traditional morality to determine, not only good and evil, but our personal identity "liberated" from any external measure. The bridge between Nietzsche and Marx is this rejection of reason in favor of purely subjective feelings joined to the reduction of reality to a series of power relationships. History, for the Marxist is a struggle between oppressors and oppressed. According to Marx it was an economic struggle between social classes. For the postmodernist its a struggle between groups divided by race, gender and, sexual orientation. 

This commingling of philosophies results in a murky soup of clashing, arbitrary ingredients. Sexual orientation is immutable but gender identity is fluid. Racial minorities are entitled to preference, and if a caucasian identifies as African American its all good as long as they feel that way, and are down with the struggle. If any of these assumptions are questioned then the offending party is at best accused of not getting it (the last refuge of an over matched sophomore) or at worst of one social phobia or another (in other words he or she is deemed mentally ill, the first refuge of the totalitarian).  Above all the revolution is permanent and the rabbit hole of self definition bottomless. The result is that we are quickly dividing ourselves into atomized units disconnected from the whole  with nothing in common but that we are offended. 

There is hardly a person who isn't influenced, even unconsciously, by one ideology or another. Much like Lord Keynes observed that policy makers, no matter how independent of mind they think that they are, are invariably influenced by the thinking of some defunct economist, so even “common” people today are influenced by the secular dogmas of long dead ideologues or philosophers. Even those who are political conservatives, who see themselves as standing against the postmodern wave, have been influenced by an ideology rooted in the philosophies of Edmund Burke and John Stewart Mill, along with the economic theories of Adam Smith. We remain ignorant of these philosophical currents in large part because students are discouraged from studying philosophy in any meaningful way. It's thought of as being impractical or, worse yet, irrelevant to their experience. Whether we know it or not we are swimming in a cultural stream being directed by the thoughts of, not just Nietzsche and Marx, but David Hume, Immanuel Kant, Georg Hegel, among others. Yet even the otherwise well educated usually have scant notions of who these people were, let alone the intellectual patrimony they have left us. We have promoted a utilitarian vision of education that has turned the university into a very pricey trade school, that leaves its students ill equipped to be active, informed citizens, though it does do them the favor of being saddled with a huge debt. 

As Marshall McLuhan used to say, a fish is completely unaware of the water it's swimming in, and we are generally unaware of the intellectual currents that engulf us. Even those who are Christians swim along oblivious, not understanding that the principles proposed by Nietzsche and Marx are incongruous with the Gospel we profess, yet we drink them in anyhow. The Christian ethic may not be completely dead as a cultural force, but it has been minimized. It continues exercise a low level influence, even as the the intellectual class has rejected it, and the popular culture ridicules it. For the most part though we live under the illusion of being free, when we are actually slaves to the thought of two dead white European philosophers.

We have killed God in the form of rejecting religion, but have adopted ideology in its place. Rather than the Gospel, and more precisely the person of Jesus, serving as our guiding light, we follow secular messiahs with the ultimate doctrines of men. Rather than looking outward, to a standard beyond ourselves, we drive deeper and deeper into our own egos, making the self a god. Ideology replaces the intellectual, doctrinal component of religion, but there is still a desire within us for the mystical. Contrary to what many think, the rejection of God won't result in a purely reasonable, rational world, free of superstition. Ideology has filled in the human need to believe. As we shall see, the popular death of God hasn't meant the death of belief in the spiritual, because this belief is a part of our nature. In place of traditional religion we have seen the resurgence of paganism, and the rise of the occult. More on this next time. 

O Antiphon for December 21: O Rising Sun


I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

This past Sunday I stopped by our RCIA II class and, as often happens, what was meant as a quick hello, goodbye, merry Christmas and God bless turned into a somewhat less brief question and answer session. One of the candidates made a query that always comes up this time of year: was Jesus born on December 25? We are told that on Christmas we celebrate the Lord’s birthday, so it would figure that he was actually born on that day. I mean, who celebrates the day of their birth on some random date months after the actual event, other than the Queen of England? The quick answer is that we don't know for sure when Jesus was born, because birth records in first century Palestine, especially for someone of the lower classes, weren't really kept. And besides, no one would have been that concerned. We are unsure of the exact birth date of some very famous people, let alone the presumed son of a carpenter at the margins of the Roman Empire. In the case of Jesus, while there is some debate, the consensus is that He probably wasn't born in late December, due to the fact that shepherds wouldn't normally have been out in the fields with the flocks at that time of year. But whether he was born in early winter or in the spring or summer, as some contend, is unimportant. What we celebrate on Christmas isn't so much the anniversary of a birth, as the dawning of a new age — the rising of a Sun that illuminates the the nations, lifting humanity out of the darkness of sin and despair. 


Today’s antiphon, O Rising Sun (O Oriens), sometimes translated as Rising Dawn or Day Spring, hearkens us back to Isaiah 9, and the Immanuel Cycle. The prophet is envisioning a time when Israel is to be restored after she is conquered and left barren by a foreign power. The oracle tells of a king who will rise as the dawn — he will be a light of hope for the people, encouraging them along the road to recovery. It also reminds us of the canticle sung by Zechariah at John the Baptist's circumcision (Luke 1:67-79), when his mouth was opened to foretell the coming of the Dawn from on high who would come to visit his people. This Rising Sun is Jesus, the Messiah. 

That we sing O Rising Sun this evening is no mistake. The Winter Solstice, the day with the least hours of sunlight, happens on December 21. From tomorrow on the hours of sunlight will increase. It is a symbol to us that Christ, the Light of the Word, has entered into our reality, conquering the darkness that is about us. There is a theory, that has gained a lot of traction, that the Christian Church picked this time to celebrate Christmas as a response to a pagan sun festival observed by the Romans of that time. There is research to suggest just the opposite. But whatever the truth, December 25 was chosen as the date to celebrate the Savior's birth, at least in part, do to this astrological phenomenon. 

As I write these words, the news is filled with reports of assassinations, terrorist attacks and the ongoing war in Syria - complete with horrific images of the Fall of Aleppo. At home, in the U.S., the Long Presidential Election of 2016 is only now grinding to a halt, six weeks after the popular votes were cast. Some are optimistic, others are worried about what the outcome of the vote will mean for the future of the country. There have always been wars and rumors of war, as well as partisan bickering, but over the last several years the global and domestic situation seems to be deteriorating. Again, maybe this has always been the norm, but because of the speed that the internet transmits information and the proliferation of news outlets, we see more of it. Either way, and I do believe these are more troubled times than most, it's easy to give in to the darkness. We are reminded to not lose hope. Christ the light is here.

Christ is the solution to the world's problems. But Christ isn't a solution to be imposed by legislation. I'll go into this more with tomorrow's reflection, but I think Christians, and Catholics in particular, make the mistake of thinking that social justice can be achieved on the structural level alone. It's generally agreed that the Church's goal isn't to establish a theocracy. We want the Gospel to be a leaven that influences, not a political program that dictates. Unless we begin by introducing people to the Sun of justice, inviting them to let the rays of the Day Spring shine in their hearts, our using the Gospel to effect political change can indeed seem like attempts at establishing a religious dictatorship. The Gospel does have political implications, but Christ must first change individual lives before His Good News can begin to solve the problems of the world. 

Jesus began with personal encounter. His meeting with the woman at the well (John 4), a rather intense and unflinching exchange, turned the Samaritan's heart and made her a missionary to her people. We don't know exactly what enlightened faith in the centurion to call upon the Lord to cure his beloved servant (Luke 7:1-10) or what light shined on the other Roman soldier for him to proclaim that Jesus was the Son of God at the moment of the Savior's death (Matthew 27:54). I have no doubt that it was something personal that touched their souls as opposed to some dry, detached ideology. Jesus either invited people to follow, or else he was inviting himself over to share a meal. The woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears, drying them with her tears, had a radical encounter with Christ that dispelled the darkness in her soul and set her free. 

What happened next for all these people we can't say. Did the centurions quit their posts to follow the Way? Perhaps they simply followed John the Baptist's advice to the soldiers who visited him at the Jordan, and performed their duty with honesty and integrity. What of Zacchaeus? Did that tax collector go become an advocate for structural reform in the Empire? Who knows? But we know that he was moved to personal reform by his encounter with the Lord, and we can hope that this led to a greater social consciousness. But that awareness would never have been awakened without his encounter with he Sun of justice.

Yes, we live in dark times, but we shouldn't despair or bemoan. We have a sure reason for our hope. The darkness lasts for a time, but Jesus is that light that which drives away the shadow of sin and death. We do need to work for a more just, equitable and peaceful world. In going about this vital work we should never forget that the Light we want to share must shine within us first. If not, then we will be trying to give something that we don't have, which is just pointless. 

May the Dawn from on high rise in our Hearts, leading us into all truth, freeing us from darkness. 

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

O Antiphon for December 20: O Key of David


I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

O Key of David, O royal Power of Israel, controlling at your will the gate of heaven: come, break down the prison walls of death for those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death; and lead your captive people into freedom. 

O Key of David (O Clavis David in Latin), brings us further into the heart of what is sometimes called the Immanuel Cycle (Isaiah 7-12). Jews see these passages as referring to Israel as a people. After the Exile in Babylon the remnant of Judah would return, as a stem blooming from the stump of Jesse, to reestablish the nation. Christians don't reject this interpretation, but see a fuller fulfillment of the prophet's words in the person of Jesus Christ. If yesterday's antiphon (O Root of Jesse) highlighted the Messiah's humble origins, today's stresses His mighty power to save. The main source  for this antiphon in Isaiah 9.

After starting the chapter by proclaiming that those who walked in darkness have seen a great light (a theme that will be picked up tomorrow), Isaiah describes "a child who has been born to us," who is a worker of wonders and prince of peace (5). On his shoulders rests the Keys of David (22:22), upon whose throne He sits (9:6). He sets free those who live imprisoned by their sins, who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death (Ps. 107:10-14). 

Sin is a prison, and vices - which are sins we do habitually - are chains that keep us shackled to the wall. When we are trapped in the chains of vice, we can believe that there is no way out. We become blind, believing that there is no other way to live. But it is in Jesus Christ that we can find healing. This is not to say that some people aren't going to need therapy or rehab to help them break the cycle of addiction or violence in their lives. But I read once of a Jewish psychologist who, after hearing a patent's problems, would sometimes ask them if they were Catholic. If the person said yes, he'd tell them that there wasn't anything wrong with them that making a good sacramental confession couldn't cure, and he'd send them off to the local parish. he knew that guilt and shame are not always irrational or destructive emotions. Often they are our consciences telling us that something is amiss within our soul. It is telling us that we are prisoners in that moment, and only the healing power of Christ the King can set us free.

This Messianic title also refers to Jesus as King, and His authority on earth and heaven. His kingship is not just over Israel, but it extends over the entire universe. This theme overlaps with the antiphon we will see in two days, which calls Christ King of the Nations. I'll save the further reflection of Jesus' royalty, both in relation to the Jews and the gentiles, for then. 

I'll leave off here, reminding us that the wages of sin is death, and it is Jesus, who by his suffering and death, who sets us free from both. He holds the key to open the doors of salvation for us. 

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

"O" Antiphon for December 19: O Root of Jesse

I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

O Flower of Jesse's stem, you have been raised up as a sign for all peoples; kings stand silent in your presence; the nations bow down in worship before you. Come, let nothing keep you from coming to our aid. 

Today's Antiphon, whose "short form" rendering is O Root of Jesse (O Radix Jesse, in Latin) is a mashup of two passages from the 11th chapter of Isaiah. The first (11:1) speaks of a bud that will bloom from the "stump of Jesse," while the other (11:10) speaks of "the root of Jesse," which will stand as a symbol to the nations. 

The Jesse that is referred to here is father of King David. David came from a family rooted in the tribes of Israel (the Tribe of Judah, to be precise) yet was from the insignificant town of Bethlehem. David himself was considered so insignificant among his own kin that when the prophet Samuel came to visit Jesse's house to seek out the new king, the youth was left in the fields by his father to attend the sheep while his older brothers attended the ceremony. It was only after God told Samuel to reject the older sons that the last born was called, reluctantly, from the flocks to receive the divine anointing. It is one example among many in the sacred Scriptures of God choosing what the world considers the least, making them His chosen instrument in the Lord's plan of salvation.

We also see in this antiphon a theme which we will see repeated again: that the promised Messiah will not just be a fulfillment of the Lord's promise to Israel, but will also be a sign that draws all nations to recognize the one true God.

We live in a world governed by the gaining and exercising of power. This worldly power is a mix of political, economic and military strength that, while not always existing together, often work in concert. We also live in a country that is deeply divided by region, with the urban, presumably more sophisticated, East and West Coasts referring to everything between JFK and LAX as "Flyover Country." (For those of you outside the U.S. who may not know, this isn't meant as a compliment). This pairing of power politics and cultural classism combine to shape perceptions. While we try to deny it, we still think in terms Great Powers, in the geopolitical sphere, who direct the course of events and, in the cultural arena, the well connected taste makers who act as our arbiters of cool. 

These two social realities -- the Political - Military - Industrial Complex on one side and the Urban - Media Elites on the other intersect. Their members, quite often, go to the same schools where they meet and "intermarry." In turn, they send their children to be educated together to continue the ritual.  They increasingly live in the same Zip Codes, segregated out from the mainstream of their societies. They are the rulers, but increasingly don't understand their subjects. They are caught off guard by the changes happening around them, because they think that they are in control, and that their way is the only way - and all "right thinking" people agree with them.

God shows us a different way. In the case of David, He didn't chose a king of Israel from among the power elites of Jerusalem. He went to the small town of Bethlehem, and had the youngest son of a family of sheep herders anointed to be the nation's leader. In being Incarnated, the Second Person of the Trinity didn't manifest himself in glory and power all at once. He chose to be born of a young, insignificant girl in a provincial backwater - the first century equivalent of Flyover Country. His foster father was a simple carpenter. They had no connections - political cultural or otherwise. But their family was from the root of Jesse, deeply embedded in heritage of the Chosen People. In Jesus, a shoot sprung forth and a bloom shown forth that was recognized by shepherds, foreign astronomers, the blind and the lame, but missed by the politically, culturally and religiously powerful. 

As the prophet Micah foretold (5:1), the promised Savior came from Bethlehem, the least of the "clans" of Israel. He, Jesus Christ, is the incarnation of the invisible God, who is at once ever ancient and ever new, as St. Augustine put it. His human roots run deep, back into history. His divinity is eternal, reaching back from before time's beginning, yet stretching forward into infinity. His ways aren't our ways. His wisdom transcends the power relationships and cultural fads of the moment. He doesn't choose what the world deems as powerful and current. He chooses the sign that contradicts, that confounds.

The Kingdom that Jesus came to proclaim arose from humble beginnings. Jesus describes it as a mustard see, the smallest of all, that grows to become a large plant whose branches supply shelter to the birds of the sky. So the Church began as a small band of fewer than twenty people in the Upper Room. With the gift of the Spirit it has grown into a world wide body beyond counting. The world still doubts her power, because it doesn't understand from where her power comes from. Stalin, when told that the Church wanted him to stop oppressing Catholics in the Soviet Union replied, "The Pope? How many divisions has he got?" He was confusing geopolitical and military might, which passes, with a power that is tapped into eternity. The worldly tend to think in terms of days, weeks and, months - maybe years. We are called to think in terms of millennia and beyond. In this particular case Stalin put his trust in tanks and soldiers, which in the end were worn down by the power of immortal Love.

The Church too needs to keep guard not to forget where her power and her mandate come from. A story goes that a pope was showing two cardinals around the newly completed St. Peter's Basilica in Rome. The pontiff proudly showed off the magnificence of the colossal structure, with all its marble, statuary and gold leaf. At one point he turned to the honored prelates and proclaimed proudly, "See all this glory! Peter can no longer say, 'silver and gold, I have not.'" One of the cardinals, not missing a beat, shot back, "Yes, but no longer can he say, 'In the name of Jesus Christ, get up and walk.'" This reference to the Acts of the Apostles 3:1-9, when the chief of the Apostles connected his material poverty to the wealth of spiritual gifts he possessed, is a warning. While there is nothing wrong, and much good in wanting to have houses of worship that are beautiful and fitting, these structures are not the glory of the Church. Much less is the institution, no matter how much influence it thinks it wields. Her power comes from the meek and humble Savior, the bud that shot forth from the stump of Jesse.

It is this quiet power, often unrecognized by the people in the know and scoffed at in the halls of human government, that draws the nations. It's roots are deep, holding fast through the storms of history. It's flower in beautiful beyond compare, calling all the people's of the world to gather around and take shelter under the branches of this Tree of Life. 



Monday, December 18, 2017

"O" Antiphon for December 18 - O Adonai

I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who showed yourself to Moses in the burning bush, who gave him the holy law on Sinai mountain: come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free.

I went over the main background for what O Antiphons are and their history the last time out, but I just wanted to clean a few things up before continuing with today's reflection. 

I'm taking the antiphons from the U.S. addition of the Liturgy of the Hours. The antiphons refer to the Messianic titles as found in the Old Testament, and were traditionally rendered, for the most part, in Latin. When the Liturgy was translated into the vernacular we get the renderings as we will encounter them here. The illustrations I'm using sometimes give the original Latin or, in this case, Hebrew word, while the antiphons themselves give us the English translation. While I'm all for the vernacular Liturgy, there is no doubt that sometimes things get lost in translation, and I believe this is one such case. Yesterday's title, Wisdom, comes from the Latin word sapientia - which is a pretty straightforward. Adonai, a title for God found in the Old Testament, used so as to avoid speaking the Divine Name revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is generally translated in our Bibles as "the LORD" or, in this case, "sacred Lord of ancient Israel." Not wrong, but still not completely right - or it might be better to say that even this involved phrase doesn't quite capture the title's full meaning. 

Commentaries on the O Antiphons usually point us to particular passages from Isaiah, along with selections from other prophets sprinkled in. While Isaiah can certainly help us to reflect on the meaning of O Adonai, the antiphon proper points us directly to the 3rd chapter of Exodus, and Moses' encounter with God in the Burning Bush. It tells us of a God who is at once very mighty and powerful, but who is very close to His people as well.

As I wrote, to simply translate Adonai as the LORD or even sacred Lord of ancient Israel only scratches the surface of what the title means. It means that God is lord and master of Israel, yes. As Isaiah puts it, "the LORD is our judge, the LORD is our lawgiver, the LORD is our king; he it is who will save us" (Is. 33:22). Elsewhere the prophet  proclaims that, "he shall judge the poor with justice, and decide fairly for the land’s afflicted. He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked. Justice shall be the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips" (Is. 11:4-5). God is Israel's king, lawgiver, He looks on the rights of the poor and afflicted, and will render a just judgment, showing no partiality. 

But God is more than some cosmic monarch and legislator. When He identifies Himself to Moses, God tells him that He is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. He called Abraham from among the nations, and guided Isaac on his tumultuous journeys. He made Jacob the head of a great family that formed the foundation of the 12 Tribes of Israel. God is more than simply a lawgiver: Adonai implies that He is a father who walks with His people. His Law is a gift to be cherished; a gift that brings blessings to those who are faithful. He gives it out of love for His children, looking for their good. The Law is what unified the Chosen People. Those who left Egypt in the Exodus were not all decedents of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and it was their agreeing to follow the Law given on Sinai that incorporated them into Israel. 

So in Adonai we come to see God as King, Lawgiver, just judge, defender of the poor and oppressed and, father of a people who are bound together by the wisdom embodied in God's laws and statutes. That's a lot of meaning for one little word, and it's understandable that to try to capture it's full meaning in a pithy fashion is close to impossible. With this in mind I'll focus in on one of these qualities expressed by the title Adonai. What struck me as I was reflecting on this antiphon was the aspect of God as a loving father who calls and fosters a people. 

I wrote a few months ago about the importance of having a personal relationship with Jesus. While I don't step back from those words, it's also true to say that having a personal relationship with God isn't enough. God calls individuals, but when we look at Scripture and Church history, He calls them with a purpose beyond self actualization. They are to be of some service to God’s plan of forming, guiding or liberating His people. 

God’s promise to the Patriarchs wasn’t that he would make them great men, but that he would make of them a great people and nation. He sent Moses to Pharaoh, not to usurp his power or gain glory for himself, but to lead God’s people to religious and economic freedom. In David, we see that the fate of God's chosen leader and that of His people are intertwined. The people were punished for David's sin of pride in taking a census when God had said the nation would be so numerous that it couldn't be counted, a troubling mystery that David himself questioned. Jesus sent the Twelve out to gather the lost sheep of the house of Israel. They were to take 12 thrones, but these were not to be places of honor but of responsibility and service. The way of discipleship is to wash the feet of others - the act of a slave, it's cost is to share in the cup of Christ's sufferings. All this is for the greater glory of God, and the gathering of the nations into His Kingdom.

If we look to St. John Bosco, to pick one example among the multitude of Saints, we see someone who dedicated his life for the salvation of young people. Some in his own time thought he was gathering his boys for some type of revolutionary movement, or else he was motivated by ego fueled self promotion. But he was following God's call, under the guidance of the Blessed Mother, to form young people to be active and productive members of the Church and society. 

Turin in the mid-1900's, where Don Bosco worked, saw an influx of teenagers and young adults who were disconnected. They were coming from farms, looking for work in factories and construction sites, work that, if they could even find it, meant long hours, unsafe conditions and, little pay. They were separated from family, often uneducated and uncatechized. They too often followed a life of sin and crime, either ignorant or uncaring of God's Law. Some ended up in jail, or even in the gallows. Many saw no hope. Don Bosco's mission was to connect them to a community, educate them for life and prepare them for Heaven. This meant a great deal of self sacrifice, and putting aside personal wants.

Don Bosco fostered vocations to both the Salesians and the diocesan priesthood. He trained carpenters and printers, among other trades, so that they could find productive, honest work. Then they could get married, raise families. He promoted frequent Holy Communion and Confession, along with the rosary and other popular devotions, so that they could grow in holiness of life and be active members of the Church. Putting these two pieces together, he wanted to form good Christians and honest citizens who would then go out and transform society. 

Don Bosco could have followed any number of career paths within the Church. He could have been the pastor of a rich parish, or private tutor to a well heeled family, making a very comfortable life for himself. There was even talk of him being made a bishop at one point. But he rejected personal ambition to follow the road less traveled. He didn't follow his own designs, but rather followed the God who, like a father, gathers a people to Himself, and calls us to follow in a path of service. Don Bosco was a father to his boys, gathering them into the Salesian Family, which was for them the gateway into the Church. He taught them to respect and follow God's laws, and to be a positive leaven in society.

The key for Don Bosco was that he saw God as active and present in his life. God was certainly for him the transcendent, all powerful Lord and lawgiver. He was also tender Father, whose rule wasn't arbitrary or capricious, but was meant to give wisdom and life. In Jesus, he saw the Good Shepherd who knows, gathers and protects His sheep. This is the LORD that Don Bosco followed and strived to imitate. All this was only possible because Don Bosco didn't look first to his own needs and desires. His discernment wasn't preoccupied with what would fulfill his deepest wants, but it was an outward looking vision that sought first the Kingdom of God, and its righteousness. 

In seeking a personal relationship with God it always needs to be within the context of the community of believers. There is no doubt that Don Bosco shared an incredible intimacy with Christ. But it was a relationship that wasn't exclusive, in the sense that it was mean to be just between the two of them. He was called to invite others into that Divine intimacy as well : so they could come to know the all powerful LORD of the universe, whose Law is a yoke that is easy, burden light, and leads to eternal life. We too are called to breakout of our egoism, and radical individuality to follow Adonai - the LORD who walked with our ancestors, calls us now to enter ever more deeply into the family of believers, gives us the Law of Love and, calls us to serve Him in our neighbors. 



Sunday, December 17, 2017

The Great Days of Advent / The "O" Antiphons / "O Wisdom"

Divine Wisdom is sometimes represented as the all seeing eye

I'm reposting the reflections I wrote in 2016 on the "O" Antiphons. I hope you enjoy them again, or for the first time.

We now begin the final phase of Advent. These are the Great Days, when our focus moves from contemplating the Lord's future coming in glory to his birth 2,000 years ago. I had planned a second post on John the Baptist, a key figure in middle weeks of Advent, who prepared the way for the Lord's public ministry by preaching repentance, but time slipped away on me. I'll leave the fragments of that post aside for the moment, and go directly to the mystery we are called to contemplate right now. 

For those who pray the Liturgy of the Hours, also known as the Divine Office, these are the days of the “O” Antiphons. At every evening prayer Mary’s song of praise from Luke 1:46-56, known as the Magnificate, is sung or recited. There is a different verse recited before the canticle each night, and there are very special ones, known tha the O Antiphons, that are recited during the novena before Christmas. As Fr. William Saunders of the Catholic Education Recourse Center explains:


The exact origin of the O Antiphons is not known. Boethius (c. 480-524) made a slight reference to them, thereby suggesting their presence at that time...By the eighth century, they are in use in the liturgical celebrations in Rome...One may thereby conclude that in some fashion the O Antiphons have been part of our liturgical tradition since the very early Church.
The importance of O Antiphons is twofold: Each one highlights a title for the Messiah: O Sapientia (O Wisdom), O Adonai (O Lord), O Radix Jesse (O Root of Jesse), O Clavis David (O Key of David), O Oriens (O Rising Sun), O Rex Gentium (O King of the Nations), and O Emmanuel. Also, each one refers to the prophecy of Isaiah of the coming of the Messiah. 
According to Professor Robert Greenberg of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, the Benedictine monks arranged these antiphons with a definite purpose. If one starts with the last title and takes the first letter of each one - Emmanuel, Rex, Oriens, Clavis, Radix, Adonai, Sapientia - the Latin words ero cras are formed, meaning, Tomorrow, I will come. Therefore, the Lord Jesus, whose coming we have prepared for in Advent and whom we have addressed in these seven Messianic titles, now speaks to us, Tomorrow, I will come. So the O Antiphons not only bring intensity to our Advent preparation, but bring it to a joyful conclusion.  
This evening we begin with: O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to Salvation

The Trinity is a particularly New Testament revelation. The Old Testament writers were concerned, in midst of a polytheistic culture, with driving home the point that God is One. Jesus reveals to us that God is indeed One, but in a community of three divine persons: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This is something not easy to understand, by any measure. But while this is a Christian concept, we can see shadows of trinitarian thought in the Old Testament. In Genesis God states, "Let us make human beings in our own image" (Gen. 1:26) (emphasis added). The use of the plural has been interpreted as both a veiled reference to the Trinity, or else as God addressing his words to the Heavenly court of angels. Later, in Chapter 18, three mysterious figures appear to Abraham. While two are later identified as angels, there is still an ambiguity that makes one pause: is one of them a manifestation of the One True God, or are all three? I think any number of these interpretations can work from a Christian perspective. 

For the first O Antiphon, the Church draws on a more subtle foreshadowing of the Trinity. The Book of Proverbs, Chapters 8 and 9, present us the Lady Wisdom. Yes, wisdom is personified here as a woman. She invites us "mortals" to gain prudence and sense. In Chapter 9 She is described as preparing a table of meat and wine for us to come and enjoy. In the Book of Sirach she says that "From the mouth of the Most High I came forth, and covered the earth like a mist." She was present at the creation, and was commanded, "In Jacob make your dwelling, in Israel your inheritance." 

We look at these passages and see more than just a poetic description of a quality God possesses (though one can do that too).   We see here a foreshadowing of Christ, and by extension the Trinity. 

Jesus in the incarnation of the Eternal Son, who was present with the Father at creation, and is the Word spoken that brought creation into being. He is the tangible manifestation of the Wisdom of God, who came and made His dwelling among us. He taught in our streets, and backed up His preaching with great signs, which we commonly call miracles. He is the giver of the Commandment of Love, which doesn't replace the Old Law, but fulfills it. He shows us the way to follow, which the wise accept. He teaches us still through Scripture and Tradition, and feeds us at the banquet of the Eucharist. 

The Father sent the Son so that we may follow His ways. An abstract doctrine, no matter how true, can be hard to understand and apply. In Jesus we see the doctrine of Love lived out. If we experience despair today, individually, but especially communally, it is probably because we refuse to accept the Wisdom of God lived out through Jesus. Yes, the Christian call is radical, demanding a total commitment. It means a certain short term struggle, even suffering, that can seem endless. It means not choosing the easy answer just because it is easy, but taking the time to discern the truth. 

Wisdom isn't abstract. For the ancient Israelites Wisdom was something practical. To put it in a modern context, the person who knows how an automobile engine works, to pick a random example, can take it apart and put it back together, can identify a problem and fix it possesses wisdom - more wisdom than the scholar who may have all the books of the world memorized but doesn't know when to change the oil in his car, with or without a warning light. Wisdom is being able to judge concrete life situations and act accordingly. It also means knowing when we may not have the answer, and not being too proud to ask for advise from a trusted friend. 

In these days we ask God in a particular way to grant us wisdom. But more than an abstract quality, we ask the He who is Wisdom way come to dwell within us, and among us. On Christmas Day we celebrate His incarnation in time. We await Jesus' coming again in glory, when the Wisdom from on high which orders all things mightily makes Himself manifest to all humanity. We ask that He dwells in our hearts now, guiding us into all truth.  

Monday, December 11, 2017

Hot Stove Ramblings: The New Murderers' Row

The heart of the original Murderer's Row: Lou Gehrig, Bob Muesel, Tony Lazzari and George Herman "Babe" Ruth
From MLB.com:
The Hot Stove. Definition: "The Hot Stove" refers to the Major League Baseball offseason, particularly the time around the Winter Meetings when free-agent signings and trades are most prevalent.

Origin: In the early days of baseball, Hot Stove Season referred to an actual baseball season: Hot Stove Leagues, in which MLB players would stay in shape by playing baseball in their hometowns while staying warm with actual hot stoves.

The term soon expanded to become a kind of predecessor to the water cooler -- on a cold day, fans would gather around the hot stove to discuss their favorite team.

When fans discuss the best Major League teams of all time, the conversation usually begins and ends with the 1927 New York Yankees. Someone will bring up the 1961, Mantle-Marris-Ford iteration of the Bronx Bombers, others the 1976 Reds, aka the Big Red Machine of Johnny Bench and Pete Rose. Someone else might mention the '72-'74 A's, featuring Reggie Jackson and Vida Blue. The best team I ever saw with my own two eyes in a ballpark was the 1989 Oakland A's. It was at the very least the most fearsome lineup, one to nine, I'd ever seen. Of course, now we know that PED's were at least partially responsible for their dominance, which takes more than a little of the luster off their accomplishments. Another was the '78 Red Sox, who my Yankees bested in that famous one game playoff. Heart breaking loss or not, they were an incredible outfit featuring Jim Rice, Fred Lynn and Dwight Evens. One could argue that the 1998 Yankees were the most balanced, complete team ever, even if they didn't have the fire power of other great champions, and the 2001 Mariners who, in spite of winning a record 116 regular season games, lost in the ALCS. 

The conversation always comes back to the '27 Yankees, who went 111-44, because they were the team of Babe Ruth (60 HR, 164 RBI, .356 BA) and Lou Gehrig (47 HR, 175 RBI, .373 BA). While Ruth and, to a slightly lesser extent, Gehrig have remained household names, others on the team, including Hall of Famers Herb Pennock and Waite Hoyt (pitchers), second baseman Tony Lazzeri, outfielder Earle Combs and, manager Miller Huggins have pretty much faded from memory. Outfielder Bob Meusel, who didn't make the Hall but had a solid career, contributed 106 RBI that season. The Yankees's lineup so dominated the league in '27 that they became known as Murderers' Row. Legend has it that the Pittsburg Pirates, who New York faced in that year's World Series, showed up to the ball park for game one only to see their opponents putting on a hitting clinic during batting practice. As ball after ball sailed high and far over the fence the Bucks became dejected to the point of giving up mentally before the games were even played. They would get swept four games to none.

Is the story true? To paraphrase the reporter from The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, this is Major League Baseball sir (or madam): when the legend becomes fact, you print the legend. And indeed the legend of the '27 Yankees is greater than the facts. Most of the pyrotechnics from that famed line up were produced by the bats of Ruth and Gehrig. Of the rest of the team only Lazzari reached double digits in homers (18) and he was also the only other player besides Ruth, Gehrig and Meusel to top 100 RBI (102) - the next closest had 64. The pitching was very good, featuring a 22 game winner, two pitchers with 19 victories and one with 18. 

All the same, it was a different game in 1927, which makes comparing teams of different eras inherently problematic, if not down right impossible. Though the fabled "live ball" era was in full swing, with the game shifting from being a base hit, base running, pitching, defensive game, to one dominated by homers and RBI, the Majors as a whole still hadn't caught up with the trend. Only two teams, for instance, managed to hit more homers than Ruth's individual record of 60. 

But this isn't about facts, its about legends, and there is no greater legend in the sport than the awesome one-two punch of Ruth and Gehrig in the middle of the Yankee line up. There have been other great pairings over the years: the aforementioned Mantle and Marris, Willie Mays and Willie McCovey, Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz. But Ruth and Gehrig remain the gold standard.

The present day Yankees have the makings of a modern-day Murderers' Row. They have an impressive core of young players, featuring the power duo of Aaron Judge (rookie record 52 homers) and Gary Sanchez (33 home runs in 122 games). Yankee fans were blown away by them last season, when the team exceeded expectations by making a legit World Series run, falling a game short of the Fall Classic, at least two seasons ahead of schedule. They got there because the organization followed a patient strategy of developing the farm system, making smart trades for top prospects and holding off on big ticket free agents while waiting for some awful contracts to come off the books. In many ways it was the approach that built their late 1990's dynasty. 


The newest member of Murderers' Row 2018: Giancarlo Stanton (second from left) surrounded by Yankees GM Brian Cashman (far left), new field manager Aaron Boone and managing general parter Hal Steinbrenner. 
While he's not a free agent, the Yankees announced today that their trade for Marlin's slugger Giancarlo Stanton is official. Not a free agent, but a player that brings with him the kind of bloated contract New York has been trying to avoid as they've rebuilt over the last couple of seasons. It's the kind of contract that they inherited when they traded for Alex Rodriguez in 2004, and have just gotten out from under a year after A-Rod retired. Stanton has 10 years and $295,000,000 left on his deal, of which the Yankees are on the hook for $265,000,000. 

What's wrong with the contract isn't so much the money. MLB is swimming in cash, and the Yankees have multiple revenue streams that gush money. I don't blame a player for getting what he can of that action. It's the years that the Yankees will be shackled with. Players are in better shape, much more attentive to diet and exercises than previous generations, true. As a result turning 30 years old isn't seen as the career death sentence it once was.  But all the cardio and macrobiotics can't hold father time off forever. The stat heads say 32 in when the decline in production starts and my eyes tell me after 35 every player is on borrowed time. Stanton is under contract until he's 37, and he's had injury issues that could limit his playing time. He can opt out after 2020, but I don't see that happening, unless he stays healthy and productive, thinking he can get in on the market increase expected by the impending Bryce Harper-Many Machado free agency after next season. So the Yankees are back to carrying another owner's dumb contract, limiting their payroll flexibility and having to find a way to plug another piece into already over crowded outfield, that is already burdened with a player with an albatross of a contract in the person of Jacoby Ellsbury. 

I know the temptation. To see Stanton, Judge and Sanchez (in whatever order) back to back and belly to belly in the heart of Yankee lineup is too much to resist. Imagine the moonshots those three are potentially going to hit. Add to them Didi Gregorius, Greg Bird, Aaron Hicks; all of whom can hit the long ball themselves, and you do have a modern day Murderers' Row. Who do you pitch around? One of the buzz phrases the new analytics people like to throw out there is "stress pitches." The idea is that pitch count is one thing, but not all 100 pitch games are equal. Some situations put more stress on a pitcher's arm than others. Constantly pitching with men on base, or having to deal to the heart of the lineup, or having to pitch to the heart of the lineup with men on base in close games or from behind, forces the pitcher to dig deeper than facing the 7-8-9 batters when you're up by 5 runs. You need that ninth slotted pitcher or light hitting second baseman to offer some relief. If all goes well there will be little if no relief, and a boat load of stress, facing AL pitchers facing the Bronx Bombers this 2018 season. And Yankee fans are dreaming of it as the snow falls already. 

I wish Giancarlo Stanton all the blessings and good things, especially good health. As a Yankee fan I'm going to love to see Murderer's Row 2018 do it's thing. But if down the line at some point GM Brian Cashman can't make a trade for a pitcher the team needs, or can't sign the third baseman they need because of all the money tied up in the outfield, or we have to let one of our home grown Bombers go because we're tied into this contract and can't afford him, the instant gratification of having Stanton now won't be worth it. Especially if, God forbid, Stanton gets old before his time because of injury. Then we'll be looking back, as we did in the last years of A-Rod's contract, waiting for it to mercifully expire.