Sunday, April 8, 2018

Divine Mercy & Papal Infallibility

Hopefully you'll find the above video on papal infallibility helpful. 
Here is a run through of the different levels of papal pronouncements. It comes from the Mount Saint Mary's Seminary in Cincinnati's website. I left the order that they give in place, although my understanding is that papal bulls and moto propios only have as much importance or weight as the directives that are being given. The usual order of authority is, from highest to lowest, is 1. Apostolic Constitutions, 2. Encyclicals, and then 3. Apostolic Letters and 4. Apostolic Exhortations. As I've learned from doing my research there doesn't seem to be an exact science to this.


  • Papal Bull
A bull is a formal papal document authenticated with a bulla or seal. Originally, metal was used for the seal, but today metal is used only for the most solemn bulls. Bulls typically begin with the issuing pope's name and the phrase, "episcopus servus servorum Dei", and conclude with the date. The content may cover any topic. Many important papal documents are issued as bulls. Bulls are generally cited using the first words of their text.
  • Apostolic Constitution
Apostolic constitutions are the most solemn form of legal document issued by the pope in his own name. Frequently issued as bulls, they deal primarily with serious doctrinal matters. Since 1911 they have also been used for the establishment of dioceses and provinces. Many important documents have been promulgated as constitutions, including The Code of Canon Law.
  • Motu Proprio
Motu proprios are legislative, apostolic letters written and signed by the pope on his own initiative. Originally used to settle the affairs of the Curia and administer the Papal States, they now handle legislative matters which are significant but do not merit a constitution. Motu proprios are generally brief, and handle specific issues relevant to the Church in a specific time in history. In recent years they have been one of the principal sources of new laws outside of the Code.
  • Encyclical Letter
Encyclicals are papal letters of a pastoral nature, used in their current form since 1740. These letters offer counsel and shed light on existing doctrine as part of the Holy Father's ordinary teaching authority. They do not belong formally to the deposit of revelation, and their teachings are not definitive unless specifically stated as such. Therefore, certain points of their teachings can often be changed.
  • Apostolic Epistle or Letter
When an encyclical is written in response to a particular need, or when it is addressed to a specific group of persons, it is called an apostolic epistle. These epistles, pastoral in nature and primarily discussing social concerns, are not considered legislative documents.
  • Apostolic Exhortation
Apostolic exhortations are papal reflections on a particular topic which are addressed to all of the clergy and faithful. The form was first used by Pope Pius XII in 1939. Exhortations generally encourage a particular virtue or mission, and are given on specific occasions. They do not contain dogmatic definitions or policies, and they are not considered legislative documents.
  • Decretal Letter
Decretals, first used in the 2nd century, originally contained papal decisions related to questions of discipline and administration. During the Middle Ages they were often issued in the form of bulls. In modern times, they are reserved for solemn matters such as dogmatic definitions and canonizations. It is generally accepted that decretals belong to the extraordinary magisterium of the Holy Father; however, they are not considered legislative documents.
  • Allocutiones / Addresses
Prior to the 19th century, the term "allocutiones" was generally reserved for solemn addresses given by the Holy Father to his cardinals. Today, however, a variety of less-formal papal allocutions and addresses are published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis and other sources. Their content is not necessarily tied to the Church or liturgy, but attempts to address specific issues or circumstances and is aimed at particular groups of people.
  • Papal Rescript
A papal rescript generally answers a petition placed before one of the Roman Curiae or the Holy Father himself. It is signed by the cardinal prefect and the secretary of the relevant congregation, and also bears that congregation's seal.
  • Apostolic Brief
Apostolic briefs, also called brevia, are a simple form of document dealing with matters of relatively-minor importance. This form emerged during the reign of Pope Martin V (1417-31) as a replacement for the ancient form of litterae.

Friday, April 6, 2018

New Year's in April!

This is a little longer than I wanted (Okay, a lot longer), but I'd already attempted too many takes, and just wanted to get this thing posted. I will have more videos coming, and I will do my best to keep them under 20 minutes in the future. For those who don't know, Mary Town is a Conventual Franciscan retreat house, and National Shrine of St. Maximilian Kolbe up in Libertyville, about an hour north of Chicago.

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

"Jesus Christ Superstar Live": The Resurrection of the Freudian Christ

NBC Television presented Jesus Christ Superstar Live (JCSS) this past Easter Sunday to strong viewership and a generally positive critical response. The program can currently be seen via streaming on the NBC website and app. In spite of being pretty familiar with the material, I only revisit it out of necessity, like when a school I'm teaching at puts it on or a new professional production like this one comes out, and I feel the responsibility to comment on it. This seems to happen every ten years or so. The lapses always leaves me surprised by how much of the music I remember and how much I really do enjoy it. I'm a fan of Rock music, and JCSS is jam packed with some of the best examples of the genre you're going to hear. Unfortunately, no matter how catchy the tunes or compelling the performances, this latest incarnation of JCSS doesn't hide the flaws in the musical's underlying premise, and distortions underlying its portrait of Jesus.

That said, I don't have any deep criticisms of this production as such. My biggest negative observation has to do with the incessant commercial interruptions. What ever you think of JCSS, this isn't a light comedic operetta. It's not the whimsical Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It's heavy stuff, and having it interrupted every five minutes to sell yogurt and laundry detergent breaks the mood, to put it mildly. It's too bad that the producers couldn't have been more creative in terms of sponsorship - like having one main patron who's brand could have been incorporated into the title - that may have allowed them to cut down on the breaks in the action.

The program was billed as a concert, but that's not really the case. While the sets are minimal (somewhat reminiscent of the 1973 film version), the action was clearly staged and choreographed for dramatic effect. Pop star John Legend (Jesus), singer songwriter Sara Bareillas (Mary Magdalene) Broadway vet Brandon Victor Dixon (Judas) and, the rest of the cast are in fine voice and display the proper emotion. Rock god Alice Cooper hams it up just enough, showing a bit of menace, but not too much, in an over glorified cameo as Herod; a bit of stunt casting I'm sure designed to keep the old fogies interested. 

Not that selling JCSS to the the Baby Boom set should be hard, since it was a hallmark of early '70's pop culture. What struck me most, to tell the truth, was just how well the material translated in spite of being written by Andrew Lloyd Weber and Tim Rice in what we would call today a Classic Rock style. It's ethos is pure late 1960's flower power, but the '73 film came along just as the hippie counter culture was running on fumes, making it dated pretty much the moment it hit cinemas. Here the flowers and tie-dye are replaced with chains and leather. Long hair and beards give way to Mohawks, tattoos and facial hair of varied styles. Smart phone cameras serve as props in place of drug paraphernalia from an earlier time. 

But good music overcomes passing fades, and JCSS boasts a solid score and provocative lyrics that still has something to say about the nature of love, faith, fame and power, even if the accessories change. What it still doesn't have is any great insight into the person of Jesus Christ, and no amount of stage craft or celebrity casting can change that.

The Jesus of JCSS is a man, no more, no less. Lyricist Tim Rice has said as much. It's no mistake then that in the opening credits John Legend is billed as "Jesus" in scare quotes. This "Jesus" is gifted and charismatic, but with no pretensions to divinity. Judas serves as a semi-detached witness, much like Che does in Webber and Rice's later musical Evita. He observes that "Jesus" has gone off the rails a bit, losing his early focus, believing in the "hype" that people are saying about him. Rather than fighting for justice and equality, "Jesus" is happy to receive the adulation of the crowd and the fawning devotion of Mary Magdalene. Judas accuses him of losing his ideals, giving in to a star trip that will lead him, and possibly all of the Apostles, to destruction. His death isn't an act of redemption but rather of ego gone wild.

While the play itself doesn't necessarily take Judas' observations as being the correct ones, "Jesus" is clearly a divided man. He doesn't know if he's really made a difference or if he will be remembered after he dies. He's overwhelmed by the crowds who want to touch him and be healed (and in JCSS, none are). Though Judas accuses the crowds of twisting "Jesus'" words, it's actually Tim Rice who does this by quoting Scripture, particularly during the trial scene, in a way that makes it look like "Jesus" really doesn't believe that he's the Son of God. It's all a part of the myth built up around him by the crowds, bought into to by the authorities, and possibly embraced cynically by "Jesus" himself. What we see at the end is an almost total inversion: it's Judas who seemingly resurrects, while the crucified "Jesus" floats away into the light, never to be seen again. 

A great deal is always made about how the Mary Magdalene, Jesus relationship is treated here. Yes, Mary still has a crush she can't understand. It's not the idea that a woman could have been attracted to Jesus romantically that's so frustrating. The Letter to the Hebrews tells us that our Lord was tempted like us in all things, but didn't sin. So it's very likely Jesus had to rebuff at least a couple of overly enthusiastic "fans." It's that we pin this on Mary Magdalene that's the problem. The Jesus, Magdalene romance, that gets rehashed repeatedly, is based on at least one bad assumption: that Mary had been a prostitute. Most scholars for quite awhile now have rejected the idea that Mary is the self same woman caught in adultery, as was assumed for many centuries. Scripture attests that she was freed from bondage to seven demons, which I pretty much take at face value. Even if you want to read this passage metaphorically, those "demons" could be almost any physical or emotional affliction a person could suffer from. It doesn't mean she was necessarily a prostitute. 

JCSS, like most contemporary works, tries to take a psychological approach to it's characters. If "Jesus" is only a man and Mary a woman, why wouldn't there be erotic tension between them? Obviously, I don't accept the play's premise that Jesus is only a man. How his divine and human natures would have interacted on this point is beyond my abilities to reckon. But what I can say is that the Jesus of the four gospel accounts was a man who knew who he was, where he was going and why. Unlike the "Jesus" of Webber and Rice, who accuses God in the garden of keeping from him the purpose of His plan, the Son and the Father are always united. Jesus asks for the cup to be taken away because he knew what was going to happen, but he accepts it because he knew very clearly why he was going to drink from it. It’s this purely human “Jesus” whose motivations are unclear, and whose acceptance of the cross makes no sense psychologically. That "Jesus" would forgo a romantic relationship, marriage and family life makes sense in the context of the Jesus who actually walked the earth, from Nazareth to Jerusalem. 

As for Mary Magdalene, there are women who are touched by God in a particular way. They've had some conversion experience and their lives are changed forever. They become devoted to their faith in an extraordinary way. These are women who today make their parishes run, and keep their pastors busy. They are motivated by faith and love. They are often devoted to the clergy, true. Are there women who fall in love with priests? Sure there are, and visa versa. But the vast majority of the women I'm talking about are not driven by some pseudo-Freudian "Thorn Birds" complex. They are tapping into a spiritual center, motivated by a desire to touch the transcendent. Maybe they were ensnared by demons, literal and metaphorical, and want to give continued thanks thanks for their liberation. My guess is that Mary was such a soul. 

But ours is a carnal age, and we have a difficult time imagining love separated from eroticism. It's not so much that JCSS's psychology is wrong, as far more limited and unsophisticated than its authors understand. 

What saves JCSS from being a relic from an earlier age is its perpetual doubts, desires to domesticate Jesus, to make him one of us, or maybe another self destructive celebrity. All this fits in very well in our postmodern times, and can appeal to both the aging hippies and young hipsters. Needless to say, I don't see this as progress. I hoped in vain that the ending would have been reworked to allow for the Resurrection. Then the story would have made sense, the motivations made psychologically clear, and the scare quotes could have been taken off the name Jesus. 

Thursday, January 25, 2018

The Last Jedi's Terminal Subverting of Expectations (SPOILERS)

The Theme to The Last Jedi should have been "We Don't Need No Education"
I had just about the most frightening moment that a writer can have only a few minutes ago. You see, I've been laboring on and off over this Star Wars post for a couple of weeks now, and I noticed that Bishop Barron just put up a video commentary on The Last Jedi today. Why the fright? Because no one wants to be the second person to publish a clever observation about a particular topic. In the case of Bishop Barron, the chance that I'm actually going to out clever him, or simultaneously stumble upon a common insight is pretty much slim to none. Keeping in mind the old saying about the blind squirrel finding a nut, the thought that our theses' might overlap just enough for me to worry that I'd wasted weeks of work. Even if the ideas come independently of each other, it still looks like the fellow who came in second is copying. It's like two women wearing the same dress to a wedding, only worse, because even that little embarrassment can be written off as an awkward coincidence. In this particular case, I'd probably come off as an unoriginal poser. After seeing his commentary I can see that we cover some of the same background set up (which just about any Star Wars fan knows anyway), but the Bishop expands on an earlier piece he wrote critical of the franchise's turn toward postmodern gender politics. I am going to comment here on Star Wars' turn to the Dark Side of postmodernism, but in a more general way. So, no need to scrap the project or do major rewrites, which is a big relief. 

In preparation for seeing Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi, I saw The Force Awakens again, then looked back at the review and analysis I wrote back when it came out two years ago. It ends up that I didn't like it as much as I thought I had, with the analysis not going past the level of basic logistics and trivial details. In seeing Awakens again, the acting seems better to me and the overall experience more satisfying than how it hit me the first time around. I still don't have anything deep to say about it: it's a fun, rousing, dumb popcorn movie that made me think nostalgically of my childhood. Who needs more? 

OK, Star Wars fanboys and girls want more. As for me, I've always lived on the fringe of both Star Wars and Star Trek geekdom, never actually counting myself an adherent of either faith. Both were parts of my childhood I remember fondly, and I know more than most nonbelievers about both universes, but not much more. The only thing I treat like religion is religion, so nitpicking about whether Greedo or Han shot first or picking sides between Picard or Kirk never interested to me, let alone trying to learn Klingon. I do have to say that this latest Star Wars film did get me thinking about what went wrong with it, and how its subverting the expectations of the fan base (a theme I heard repeated on a few sites) may alienate both the fundamentalist hard core and casual adherent alike.

Over the first three films made between 1977 and 1983, which technically make up the middle portion of what will be a nine movie story arc (with countless new trilogies and stand alone films planned for the future), the ground rules for the Star Wars myth was set. George Lucas drew on the high minded theories of academic  Joseph Campbell, mixed with the cliff hanger thrills of the old Buck Rogers movie serials of his youth, wrapped up in a World War II in space ethos to create modern mythology. At the time it was something fresh, which instantly captured the imaginations of movie audiences young and old, in desperate need of some good old fashioned entertainment.

Star Wars (later retitled Episode IV: A New Hope) came out in the heart of the New Hollywood era. With the twin deaths of the old production code and the studio system a decade before, control over the film making process increasingly shifted from studio executives into the hands of the directors (who often wrote, or at least collaborated on their own scripts, as opposed to being assigned projects by the studio). With this new found freedom, and in light of the Vietnam War and Watergate scandal, films became darker in tone. The distinctions between heroes and villains weren't always clearly drawn. It wasn't unusual for the the good guy to loose and, crime often payed - a big no-no under the old rules. In the midst of this moral relativism came Star Wars. It's true that the bad guys wore white - which I remember confusing some people in 1977, but there wasn't any mistaking that the Storm Troopers were evil. While Darth Vader becomes increasingly conflicted over the course of the movies, as does Luke, to a lesser degree, there is no moral relativism or irony at work here. Darth Vader isn't misunderstood and Luke isn't a closet baddie. The battle is over their "souls" and the destiny of the universe. This very clear battle between good and evil was refreshing to audiences in the age of the cynical, relativistic antihero. 

There was also a spiritual foundation at work, albeit a bit hoaky. The Force is a supernatural energy that binds reality together, and certain people are more strongly connected to it than others. There are prophecies and destinies, and life has a purpose. Luke is on the hero's journey of self discovery and fulfillment. He is strong in the Force, but still needs to perfect his skills under the tutelage of an experienced mentor. It wasn't meant to be realistic, even apart from the science fantasy setting: we're dealing in archetypes and symbols (this is where Campbell comes in) as old as human civilization. While we shouldn't confuse the Star Wars franchise with anything other than mass market commercial entertainment, because it trades in these universal values it connected, and continues to connect with audiences, who, in some cases, respond with an almost religious fervor (something I would need another lengthy post to explore). 

That some express a pseudo-religious response to Star Wars isn't completely surprising. The sacred texts of many religions around the world are made up of stories handed down through the ages. Jesus understood the power of narrative and of universal types. This is why he spoke in parables. Like doctrinal discourse it gives generalities that can later be applied to concrete situations, but in a way that people more easily remember. There was no Good Samaritan, as far as we know, neither was there a Prodigal Son. But like mythology of old they hit upon universal human experience and, in the case of our Lord’s parables, show how divine grace can effect it. Theology can be dry and detached, and history usually fails to offer us clear lessons. But story is a powerful conductor of truth when used correctly. There will always be a certain degree of subjectivity at work. We can still argue over what the universals mean. But in good fiction the truth hovers above the details that serve like mnemonic devises to aid our remembering.  


In the grand scheme Star Wars worked because it followed a method with a proven track record of success - for something like millennia: take universal ideals and express them through a simple, yet lively story that people will remember. Dark, brooding and morally conflicted stories often make great films, but that's not why people go to a Star Wars movie. There's nothing wrong with opening things up story wise, putting characters into new situations, exploring new worlds, if you will, a la Star Trek. But the basics of the struggle between good and evil and the hero's journey to self discovery still needs to be there, or it just isn't Star Wars anymore. Reports that the latest installment faded faster at the box office than it's precesessor are a bit exaggerated, but what should be more worrying to the corporate geniuses at Disney is the disparity of opinion between the professional critics and the general audience. The critics may love The Last Jedi, but many fans sense that there's been a disturbance in the Force: Episode VIII diverted too radically from the original spirit of the series, and they're not happy about it. 

Fiddling with the Star Wars Mythology isn't new, but pinning down exactly when it began to be deconstructed is open to debate. Some say that Lucas began the process himself in the Prequels, especially when he reduced the Force to microscopic organisms living in people's blood. The more midi-chlorians, as they were called, in the blood system the more "Force" the person had. It's a concept that was quickly forgotten after Episode One, but the hard core fans still fume at the idea. Since I'm not that familiar with the Prequels, I'll stick to commenting on the original trilogy and the films made since 2015. So, while we can nitpick things, I point to 2016's stand alone movie Rogue One as the place where the postmodern tomfoolery started in earnest. 

Rogue One tells the story of how the Death Star plans were captured, ending just as the events of A New Hope begin. In many ways it was an attempt at making a gritty war movie (think an intergalactic version of The Dirty Dozen). In ramping up the World War II in space aspect of the myth, it tended to down play the ideas of a hero's journey and personal destiny, with the Force being talked about, but not playing a significant part in the lives of a majority of the characters. It also injected moral ambiguity into the story for the first time. The Empire is evil still, but the Rebel Alliance isn't squeaky clean either. The protagonist is disenchanted with the rebellion, her childhood mentor is now an off the reservation Colonel Kurtz style quazi-psychopath, another "hero" is young but still grizzled veteran of the cause who kills allies when it's convenient to save his own skin. All these elements combine to produce a generally grim experience. The most memorable, and lovable, character is a blind martial arts expert who has undying faith in the power of the Force. I'm not the only person to mention that I'd have preferred to see a movie about that guy instead of the rest of these sad, cynical rejects from what ended up being a cosmic Catch-22.

The sole noble idea that Rogue One held on to was the theme of self sacrifice for a bigger cause. The trouble is it went a bit overboard in that area, with all the central characters dying at the end, which may have prompted a backlash of sorts in The Last Jedi. More on that a bit later.

As for the “in universe” pictures, in The Force Awakens (2015) we were reintroduced to the original spirit of the franchise. Themes that took three movies to establish are condensed, but very clearly Rey is the youth of uncertain origin, leaving home on an adventure seeking to understand her herself through discovering her past (think Luke Skywalker's hero's journey). Rylo Ren is the conflicted villain, who may or may not be related to Rey, much like Darth Vader and his relationship with Luke. Snoke, in the Palpatine role, is the embodiment of pure evil who seeks to keep Ren under his power while either turning or else destroying Rey. Han Solo assumes the role of Rey's mentor, like Ben Kenobi (rather than teaching her the ways of the Force, he offers to hone her skills as the next captain of the Millennium Falcon). Episode VII has an open-ended cliffhanger climax, but leaves the overall Star Wars ethos in place. 

As I've already written about, Rogue One attempted to inject some "realism" into all the mythology, but it could be forgiven. It's a diversion from the main story, much like Tom Stoppard following the exploits of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern riffs on Hamlet without necessarily effecting how we interpret that play. But Episode VIII isn't a detour into something quirky. It's a part of the "official cannon," which systematically takes the Star Wars Myth and blows it up. In demythologizing Star Wars the film makers mirror the attitudes of the postmodern West, who's dictum is that nothing really matters, nothing is real, and there's nothing to get hung about.  

Unlike Yoda, who assumes Luke's training after Ben Kenobi's death, Skywalker, in this case grabbing the mentor baton from the martyred Had Solo, wants nothing to do with training a new Jedi. He literally takes the baton, in the form of his own lightsaber breathlessly delivered by Rey, and tosses it away like an empty Coke can. He is riddled with self doubt, and no longer believes in the positive power of the Force. He is determined to abdicate his responsibility to accompany Rey on her journey. He is a far cry from Ben Kenobi who cherished his heritage and was ever to pass on his wisdom to a future generation. Instead past failures have overshadowed Luke's earlier triumphs, and he may or may not be just as evil as Kylo Ren. He chooses seclusion on his distant island planet, allowing the events of the universe to go on without him, content to die the last Jedi. 

Kylo Ren isn't so much conflicted about whether to go to the Dark or the Light Side of the Force as much as figuring out how he will gain control of the universe. For a brief time it looked like the franchise was going to go into a truly interesting direction when Kylo and Rey team up against Snoke. The moment is thrilling, but brief, and we're right back to Kylo as the bad guy, but without an ounce of conflict within him. Rather than some grand statement, Kylo cynically uses Rey (an his Force power) to off Snoke in a palace intrigue power play move. 

Rey begins Episode VII in the Luke role, as I've said. She is a blank slate, but hints are given as to her origin. Touching Luke's light saber unlocks all sorts of suppressed memories along with connecting her with the mythology's collective unconscious. Her mission transforms from simply getting the map piece to the Resistance to going on a journey of self discovery. In Episode VIII we find out her background is meaningless: her parents were nobody in particular and she has these great powers just because - no journey of discovery necessary, no trial by ordeal needed. Anybody can be powerful in the Force, it's nothing special, really. Even Yoda rejects the whole Jedi tradition, burning down the tree temple, with the sacred Jedi texts in it (though there is a chance Rey stole them before she left the island planet). 

As for self sacrifice, we see one character die saving the fleet, but when Finn tires a similar move he's scolded for it. Toward the end of the movie what's left of the Resistance is trapped in a cave with a thick steel door, so the First Order brings on this huge canon type battering ram to blow it open (it utilizes Death Star Technology ™, of course). When it becomes clear that their not going to be able to blow up the weapon in time Finn decided to ride his speeder, Randy Quade in Independence Day style, right down the barrel of it. He's deflected by Rose Tico, and they both crash, keeping the canon in tact and their comrades in danger. In one of the most inane and insipid lines in movie history Rose justifies her action by telling Finn, "We're going to win this war not by fighting what we hate, but saving what we love!" She then kisses him tenderly before falling away unconscious. We've come a long way from Rick Blain proclaiming that the problems of three little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, to let ‘em fry, as along as I've got my man!

The most egregious demythologizing has to do with the aforementioned burning down of the Jedi Temple. It is a clear break with the past: a statement that tradition is meaningless, there is only the now, so it’s for us to create our own meaning. 

The moviemakers may think that they are updating Star Wars to fit a contemporary mentality, but they are missing the point. As I wrote, A New Hope hit the screens during the era of The Godfather and Apocalypse Now, movies that made the mafia an allegory for corporate and political America, and portrayed the U.S. military leadership as either insane or coldly murderous. We generally think of Saturday Night Fever as a feel good movie of sorts, but it asks deep questions as to the meaning of life and ends with an apparent suicide. The Star Wars films were a balm from the moral relativism. 

The films of today are far less serious than back in the ‘70’s, they actually ask fewer real questions, demand fewer sacrifices of their characters. But the culture is still saturated with moral relativism. I heard a critic claim that characters don’t die at the end of movies anymore because the actors themselves feel its bad for their image. Either that or it cuts off the possibility of making a sequel. These reasons may be true, but I think it’s also because filmmakers know that the current popular metaphysics doesn’t allow for life after death. All we have is this life, and the pleasures of this world. So there is no heaven or hell, there is no veil to pass through. All we have is now and the meaning we give life. If there is a heaven everyone goes there, and it’s not as good as life on earth (you have no idea how much I hated City of Angels). If there’s a hell, only the likes of Hitler and bankers go there. Maybe. 

Deep down people don’t really believe that life has no meaning, or at least they’re not satisfied by the thought (the heaven and hell question is another, more complicated story I won’t tackle right now). They know that humans on earth are flawed creatures, full of great potential but struggling to do the right thing. They want to be inspired to rise above. They want to believe that there is a hero inside them. They want to believe that life has a purpose. Star Wars 1977 zigged when the popular culture of the ‘70’s was zagging. It caught people by surprise, and they got caught up in the good feeling. 

The Last Jedi faded faster than expected from movie screens in the States (and actually tanked in China) I believe because it has strayed from formula that got it here. It still has Ex-Wings and TIE Fighters and all the familiar tech, but Star Wars is more than those things. I’m not sure that saying there’s no need for training, anyone can be a Jedi, it’s not all that special is the message you want to go for. I’m not sure that claiming that the Resistance buys their weapons from the same dealers as the First Order, so they’re only a little less corrupt than their enemy, is going to ignite the child like wonder in the audience. I’m not sure that saying the Jedi tradition is past its prime, and really never meant that much to begin with, is going to connect with long time fans craving for some modern mythology, especially since we get so much demythologizing already. 


I close by echoing what I heard from the guys over at Red Letter Media. This movie left me unenthusiastic about the next film. I’ll still probably go see it, along with the Han Solo stand alone coming up in December. But I won’t be looking forward to either one like I did for The Force Awakens and, especially, The Last Jedi. Not because I’m a man now, who demands more mature entertainment, but because the child inside me was let down; a child who desperately wants to believe in heroes, and heroines, the pursuit of good and the defeat of evil, in a culture saturated with the inverse. With all the talk of box office disappointment, The Last Jedi still banked a billion and counting. I won’t be surprised though, if this represents the peak, with a steady decline in the forecast. What made Star Was special has been put aside. Hopefully it was only misplaces and not lost forever.


Saturday, January 6, 2018

Sir, Give Me this Water: Reflection on the Woman at the Well, and the Strenna for 2018



Every January the Rector Major publishes the annual Strenna. The Strenna is a statement meant to give focus to the Salesian Family's pastoral initiatives for the year. The tradition began with Don Bosco, who used to offer a special message to the Salesian Sisters (Daughters of Mary Help of Christians) for the New Year. Soon after the message was directed to the entire Salesian Family. 2017's was "We Are Family! Every home, a school of Life and Love," highlighting the importance of family ministry, in light of Pope Francis' Apostolic Exhortation Amoris Laetitia. 2018's is “'Lord, give me this water' (John 4:15) let us cultivate the art of listening and of accompaniment." This year's is meant to help us prepare for the 15th Ordinary Synod of Bishops in Rome this October, which will deal with young people and vocational discernment. 

At the parish we're having our Volunteer's Retreat, and we've taken the Strenna as our theme. Friday night I gave a reflection on the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well from John's Gospel. This passage is the point of departure for the Rector Major's, Ángel Fernández Artime's, commentary. The English text is followed by the Spanish translation that was delivered.




Sir, give me this water.

The Samaritan woman had drank from many wells in her life. We do not know her story in detail, but we can imagine. Our Lord confronts her with her past. She has been married five times and the man she is with now isn't her husband. She isn't an ignorant woman. She knows the Samaritan faith of her ancestors, as well as understanding the Jewish religion of Jesus. We wonder what went wrong. While she, as all of us, has to take responsibility for her own actions, we still wonder, how was she lied to in her life? How was she used? How was she abused? How was she seduced away from the religious practice of her youth? How did a life that began with such promise come to this crossroad? 

The Samaritan woman knew that she was thirsty, and that the water from all the other wells she drank from in the past had still left her dry. Jesus offers her the waters of everlasting life, and to prove to her that he can supply such water, he prophetically tells her something about herself that Jesus couldn't possibly have known. He reveals the source of her shame, the reason that she suffers the heat of the day instead of coming to the well with the rest of the women of the village at dawn. Rather than being put off or insulted, she draws closer, sensing that this Jewish stranger understood her, and may indeed be the one to lead her to redemption. 

The young people of today have much in common with the Samaritan woman, but with some key differences that I'll mention later. They are being seduced away from the faith by promises of instant gratification rooted in false happiness. They are being lied to by a consumeristic culture that says that happiness lies in the next smart phone or the flashiest car. They are being deceived by a culture that tells them that the only thing that matters is what they want, and the dreams they have for themselves. They are told that there is no God, or at the very least if there is one he is far way, uncaring and distant.

The main difference between then and now is that the Samaritan woman was on the margins of the society. She went to the well in the afternoon because she would then avoid the gossiping of the other village women, who knew her story and judged her harshly for it. She wasn't completely lost because she still had a strong religious upbringing that she could latch on to. Jesus was able to use her religious background as an opening to make a connection with her. In some ways today we are dealing with a photo negative image of Jesus' time. Instead of the Samaritan woman's extramarital situation being exceptional, it is increasingly the norm. Divorce, remarriage, cohabitation, what we used to call promiscuity, has become the common experience. The taking for granted that marriage is a life long, exclusive commitment sealed by a sacrament along with the reserving sexual relations for marriage is more and more seen as old-fashioned and unrealistic. Rather than the Church and the secular society walking together, promoting the same values, as was the case in the past, the Church now finds herself at odds with the mainstream culture. Young people in general, but Catholic youth in particular are not as well catechized as in the past. The don't have the religious heritage that was passed on by their family to go back to when they are lost, as the Samaritan woman did. 

This is all not without hope. We must always remember first and foremost that the work of evangelization is first and foremost the work of the Holy Spirit. We, as catechists and ministers of the Church, are open to ongoing formation so we can be of service to the Spirit's bidding. We know that Jesus has already won the victory by his death on the cross. It is for us to make the urgent invitation to others to enter into this victory by accepting the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

But as I said, the invitation is urgent. Jesus has won the war, but the battle still goes on for the salvation of individual souls. It is for this battle that we are formed, and go forth in mission. 

We are formed by the Master who teaches by his example how we are to go about the mission. If we look at this encounter between Jesus and the unnamed woman at the well, we can pick up a few hints.

First of all, Jesus isn't afraid to make the first approach. Jesus is radical in this, because in his historical times men and women did not speak in public unless they were close family members, and Jews and Samaritans were sworn enemies. Jesus breaks through this social convention to begin a dialogue with the woman.

Secondly, Jesus doesn't begin by telling the woman her sins or reminding her that she is on the wrong path. He makes a simple, human request for water. She is understandably resistant. "Who is this man?", she may have asked herself. "Is he just another man asking for water but really looking for something else?" "Does he know my reputation and thinks that's a license to bother me?" Jesus gently, but persistently, wears down her resistance until she understands that He is not just another man looking to use her. He appeals to the longing with in her for true freedom.

It is only after a degree of trust is established that Jesus goes on to tell her that he knows the dark secret of her life, offering an alternative way to go. It isn't an escape from her situation, as much as a way to recapture the joy of her you, as well as a way forward that will bring with it responsibility and fulfillment.   

I will get into the more practical aspects of the Rector Major's Strenna for 2018 on Sunday afternoon. But for now, what we are being called to is to rethink how we engage in the mission of evangelization as members of the Salesian family. We are called, as always to pass on the faith to the next generation. We should be confident in the religious and cultural heritage we have received, and feel privileged to pass it on. 

What is new is that we are called to listen as well as talk. Young people today do not necessarily take for granted the truth of the Gospel. They no longer share the vision of marriage rooted in the scriptures. They no longer understand what a vocation is, since all they are being offered are temporary options. 

So what is to be done?

I would say, simply that we need to listen. In listening we try to understand first. Sometimes the greatest mistake we do is offer predetermined solutions to problems we imagine that young people have. In listening we try to get to the heart of what the issue is, and then we can give a thoughtful, informed response. 

Before listening or speaking we need to be living our own vocational commitment. Young people today are less interested in what we say as in seeing the witness that we live. If they see us faithful, they are more likely to be faithful. If they come to the parish and they see divisions, see people who are rivals with each other, or gossip about others, then they will be put off. It won't matter what we say, what we do will be much louder. Unless we live a holy life, then we really have nothing to pass on to our young people but empty words. 

In the end the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman led to her coming back to faith, returning to community life, as a protagonist in the mission of the Jesus. That is the goal of our Salesian mission today: to either keep our young people in the fold, or else help lead them back if they have strayed. It is to help them become active members of the community, concerned with the spreading of the Gospel. We do this by living our own call to holiness faithfully, with joy and purpose. We pray to Jesus, here in his Eucharistic presence, to give us the wisdom and strength we need to be faithful and true to His call.


Señor, dame esta agua.

La mujer samaritana había bebido de muchos pozos en su vida. No conocemos su historia en detalle pero podemos imaginarnos. Nuestro Señor la consuela de su pasado. Ella se había casado cinco veces y el hombre con el que estaba ahora no era su esposo. Ella no es una mujer ignorante. Ella conoce la fe samaritana de sus antepasados así como la religión judía de Jesús. Nos preguntamos qué pasó. Mientras que ella como todos nosotros tenemos que asumir la responsabilidad de nuestras acciones nos preguntamos ¿Cómo la engañaron? ¿Cómo estaba ella? ¿Cómo fue abusada? ¿Cómo se separó de la práctica religiosa en su juventud? ¿Cómo una vida que comenzó con tal promesa llegó a esta encrucijada?

La mujer samaritana sabía que tenía sed y que el agua de todos los otros pozos de los que bebió en el pasado la había dejado con sed. Jesús le ofrece las aguas de la vida eterna y para probarle que él puede suministrarle tal agua proféticamente le dice algo acerca de ella. Él revela el origen de su vergüenza, la razón por la que ella sufre el calor del día en lugar de ir al pozo con el resto de las mujeres del pueblo al amanecer. En lugar de desanimarse o sentirse rechazada se acerca sintiendo que este extranjero judío la comprendía  y  la condujera a la redención.

Los jóvenes de hoy tienen mucho en común con la mujer samaritana pero con algunas diferencias aspectos que mencionaré más adelante. Están siendo seducidos lejos de la fe por promesas de gratificación instantánea enraizadas en la falsa felicidad. Les está engañando una cultura consumista que dice que la felicidad está en el próximo teléfono inteligente o el coche más llamativo. Están siendo engañados por una cultura que les dice que lo único que importa es lo que quieren y los sueños que tienen para sí mismos.  Les dicen que no hay Dios o al menos si hay uno está lejos e indiferente.

La diferencia principal entre antes y ahora es que la mujer samaritana estaba al margen de la sociedad. Ella fue al pozo por la tarde porque evitaría los chismes de las mujeres del pueblo que conocían su historia y la juzgaban duramente. No estaba completamente perdida porque todavía tenía una fuerte educación religiosa a la que podía aferrarse. Jesús pudo usar su trasfondo religioso como una oportunidad para establecer una conexión con ella. De alguna manera hoy estamos lidiando con una imagen negativa del tiempo de Jesús. En lugar de que la situación extramatrimonial de la mujer samaritana sea excepcional es cada vez más normal. El divorcio, las segundas nupcias, la cohabitación, lo que solíamos llamar promiscuidad, se han convertido muy común. Dar por hecho que el matrimonio es un compromiso exclusivo de toda la vida sellada por un sacramento junto con las relaciones sexuales que se reservan para el matrimonio se ve cada vez más como pasado de moda y poco realista. En lugar de que la Iglesia y la sociedad secular caminen juntas promoviendo los mismos valores como fue el caso en el pasado la Iglesia, ahora se encuentra en desacuerdo con la cultura dominante. Los jóvenes en general, los jóvenes católicos en particular no están tan bien educados como en el pasado.
No tienen la herencia religiosa transmitida por su familia para volver a ella cuando se pierden como lo hizo la mujer samaritana.

 Siempre debemos recordar sobre todo que la obra de evangelización es ante todo, obra del Espíritu Santo. Nosotros como catequistas y ministros de la Iglesia estamos abiertos a la formación permanente para poder servir a las órdenes del Espíritu. Sabemos que Jesús ya ha ganado la victoria con su muerte en la cruz. Nos toca a nosotros hacer una invitación urgente a otros para que entren en esta victoria al aceptar el Evangelio de Jesucristo.

Pero como dije, la invitación es urgente. Jesús ganó la guerra pero la batalla continúa para la salvación de las almas. Es por esta batalla que estamos formados y avanzamos en la misión.

Estamos formados por el Maestro que enseña con su ejemplo cómo debemos llevar a cabo la misión. Si miramos este encuentro entre Jesús y la mujer en el pozo podemos observar algunas claves.

Primero que nada, Jesús no tiene miedo tomar la iniciativa de acercarse. Jesús es radical en esto porque en sus tiempos históricos los hombres y las mujeres no hablaban en público a menos que fueran parientes cercanos y los judíos y los samaritanos eran enemigos. Jesús rompe con esta convención social para comenzar un diálogo con la mujer.

En segundo lugar Jesús no comienza diciéndole a la mujer sus pecados o recordándole que ella está en el camino equivocado. Él hace un simple pedido humano pide agua. Ella es comprensiblemente resistente. "¿Quién es este hombre?", Se habrá preguntado a sí misma. "¿Es solo otro hombre pidiendo agua pero realmente buscando otra cosa?" "¿Conoce mi reputación y piensa que tiene derecho a molestarme?" Jesús gentilmente pero con persistencia espera  que ella comprenda que Él no es solo otro hombre que busca usarla. Él insiste por el anhelo en ella que encuentre la verdadera libertad.

Después de establecer un grado de confianza Jesús continúa diciéndole que él conoce el oscuro secreto de su vida, ofreciendo un camino alternativo a seguir. No es un escape de su situación sino una forma para que ella recupere la alegría y comience el camino que trae consigo la responsabilidad y la realización.

Entraré en los aspectos más prácticos del Strenna del Rector Mayor para 2018 el domingo por la tarde. Pero por ahora, a lo que se nos llama es pensar cómo nos involucramos en la misión de evangelización como miembros de la familia Salesiana. Somos llamados como siempre a transmitir la fe a la próxima generación. Deberíamos tener confianza en el patrimonio religioso y cultural que hemos recibido y sentirnos privilegiados de transmitirlo.

Estamos llamados a escuchar y a hablar. Los jóvenes de hoy no creen en la verdad del Evangelio. No comparten la visión del matrimonio enraizada en las Escrituras. No comprenden qué es una vocación ya que todo lo que se les ofrece son opciones temporales.

¿Así, qué debemos hacer?

Yo diría simplemente que tenemos que escuchar. Al escuchar, primero tratamos de comprender. A veces el mayor error que cometemos es ofrecer soluciones predeterminadas a los problemas que imaginamos que tienen los jóvenes. Al escuchar tratamos de llegar a la raíz del problema y ​​luego podemos dar una respuesta reflexiva e informada.

Antes de escuchar o hablar necesitamos vivir nuestro propio compromiso vocacional. Los jóvenes de hoy están menos interesados ​​en lo que decimos que en ver el testimonio que vivimos. Si nos ven fieles es más probable que sean fieles. Si vienen a la parroquia y ven divisiones, ven a personas que son rivales entre sí o hablan de los demás, se desilusionarán.  No importará lo que digamos lo que hacemos es más importante. A menos que vivamos una vida santa entonces realmente no tenemos nada que transmitir a nuestros jóvenes sino palabras vacías.

Al final del encuentro entre Jesús y la mujer samaritana ella recuperó la fe, regreso a la vida comunitaria como protagonista en la misión de Jesús. Ese es el objetivo de nuestra misión Salesiana hoy: mantener a nuestros jóvenes en el redil o ayudarlos a regresar si se han desviado. Es para ayudarlos a convertirse en miembros activos de la comunidad, preocupados por anunciar el Evangelio. Hagamos esto viviendo nuestro propio llamado a la santidad fielmente con alegría y propósito. Pidamos a Jesús, en su presencia Eucarística para que nos dé la sabiduría y la fuerza que necesitamos para ser fieles a su llamado.