In the forty days between the Resurrection and the Ascension, our Lord appeared to numerous individuals and to various groups, including some five hundred on one occasion, and at last to the group who witnessed his ascent to glory in a cloud of light. A forensic investigator would logically ask why he did not appear to those who had crucified him, to those who had plotted against him, and to Pontius Pilate. Napoleon, in an amalgamation of pragmatism, cynicism and fascination, is said to have remarked that Jesus could have converted the whole Empire had he appeared from the dead in front of Caesar in the Roman Forum.
God’s ways are not our ways, and were it otherwise, there would have been no Holy Passion. But the same Saint Peter who had been appalled that Christ must die on the cross, was the first to enter the empty tomb and then proclaimed on Pentecost that he and others had seen the Lord. The question lingers though, about why Christ did not stun his enemies with his victory. Reports of his resurrection did cause some panic among the Sanhedrin and others, and the soldiers feared they might be to blame for having been neglectful watchmen, but none of the chief players in this greatest of all dramas, as far as we know, had any encounter with the Risen Christ. One tradition holds that Pontius Pilate spent his last days wandering in exile, haunted because he could not be inspired.
As usual, the fertile mind of John Henry Newman proposes that that Christ did not show himself to all people, because appearing only to chosen witnesses “was the most effectual means of propagating His religion through the world.” Had his murderers seen him, they would have reacted with “sudden fears, sudden contrition, sudden earnestness, sudden resolves, which disappear suddenly.” By a strategy more pragmatic than any general’s, Christ comforted, encouraged and prepared a few to convert the many, for “Many are called, but few are chosen.” So Newman says, “Doubtless, much may be undone by the many, but nothing is done except by those who are specially trained for action.”
Many saw Christ resuscitate the daughter of Jairus and the son of the widow of Nain, to no lasting effect, for then as now, excitement is momentary and even threatening: the raising of Lazarus was what finally compelled the authorities to kill Jesus. Spectacles are not divine graces, and while false Messiahs can give people a thrill, only the true Messiah can give grace. “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rise from the dead” (Luke 16:31).
Peter, the chief witness, was trained the hard way through his own denials and repentance, and he continues to confirm others in the Faith through his apostolic successors: “This is a cause of great joy for you” (1 Peter 1:6).
In 1969 Fr. Joseph Ratzinger gave a series of interviews on the future of the Church. These interviews can be found in the book Faith and the Future by Ignatius Press. The following comes from Vultus Christi:
The future of the Church can and will issue from those whose roots are deep and who live from the pure fullness of their faith. It will not issue from those who accommodate themselves merely to the passing moment or from those who merely criticize others and assume that they themselves are infallible measuring rods; nor will it issue from those who take the easier road, who sidestep the passion of faith, declaring false and obsolete, tyrannous and legalistic, all that makes demands upon men, that hurts them and compels them to sacrifice themselves.
To put this more positively: The future of the Church, once again as always, will be reshaped by saints, by men, that is, whose minds probe deeper than the slogans of the day, who see more than others see, because their lives embrace a wider reality. Unselfishness, which makes men free, is attained only through the patience of small daily acts of self-denial. By this daily passion, which alone reveals to a man in how many ways he is enslaved by his own ego, by this daily passion and by it alone, a man’s eyes are slowly opened. He sees only to the extent that he has lived and suffered. If today we are scarcely able any longer to become aware of God, that is because we find it so easy to evade ourselves, to flee from the depths of our being by means of the narcotic of some pleasure or other. Thus our own interior depths remain closed to us. If it is true that a man can see only with his heart, then how blind we are!
How does all this affect the problem we are examining? It means that the big talk of those who prophesy a Church without God and without faith is all empty chatter. We have no need of a Church that celebrates the cult of action in political prayers. It is utterly superfluous. Therefore, it will destroy itself. What will remain is the Church of Jesus Christ, the Church that believes in the God who has become man and promises us life beyond death. The kind of priest who is no more than a social worker can be replaced by the psychotherapist and other specialists; but but the priest who is no specialist; who does not stand on the sidelines, watching the game, giving official advice, but in the name of God places himself at the disposal of men, who is beside them in their sorrows, in their joys, in their hope and in their fear, such a priest will certainly be needed in the future.
Let us go a step farther. From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge a Church that has lost much She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes, so will she loose many of her social privileges. In contrast to an earlier age, she will be seen much more as a voluntary society, entered only by free decision . As a small society, she will make much bigger demands on the initiative of her individual members. Undoubtedly she will discover new forms of ministry and will ordain to the priesthood approved Christians who pursue some profession. In many smaller congregations or in self-contained social groups, pastoral care will normally be provided in this fashion. Along-side this, the full-time ministry of the priesthood will be indispensable as formerly. But in all of the changes at which one might guess, the Church will find her essence afresh and with full conviction in that which was always at her center: faith in the triune God, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, in the presence of the Spirit until the end of the world. In faith and prayer she will again recognize the sacraments as the worship of God and not as a subject for liturgical scholarship.
The Church will be a more spiritual Church, not presuming upon a political mandate, flirting as little with the Left as with the Right. It will be hard-going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek. The process will be all the more arduous, for sectarian narrow-mindedness as well as pompous self-will will have to be shed. One may predict that all of this will take time. The process will be long and wearisome as was the road from the false progressivism on the eve of the French Revolution — when a bishop might be thought smart if he made fun of dogmas and even insinuated that the existence of God was by no means certain — to the renewal of the nineteenth century. But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church. Men in a totally planned world will find themselves unspeakably lonely. If they have completely lost sight of God, they will feel the whole horror of their poverty. Then they will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new. They will discover it as a hope that is meant for them, an answer for which they have always been searching in secret.
And so it seems certain to me that the Church is facing very hard times. The real crisis has scarcely begun. We will have to count on terrific upheavals. But I am equally certain about what will remain at the end: not the Church of the political cult, which is dead already, but the Church of faith. She may well no longer be the dominant social power to the extent that she was until recently; but she will enjoy a fresh blossoming and be seen as man’s home, where he will find life and hope beyond death.
The following comes from Heather King: In solitude on the Central Coast of California recently, I read a book called The Love That Made Mother Teresa by David Scott. Scott happens to be Vice Chancellor for Communications at the Archdiocese of Los Angeles and the book is subtitled “How Her Secret Visions and Dark Nights Can Help You Conquer the Slums of Your Heart.”
The book is simply written, accessible, and anecdotal. Scott beautifully captures the strangeness and paradox of the life of a saint. Mother Teresa lived to see the global reach of the internet and social media, yet the biographical details of her own youth and even adult life remain shrouded in mystery. She shunned the limelight but suffered the intrusions of photographers and TV cameras, offering up her discomfort for love of the poor. She kissed the leper, and she also dined with and accepted money from dictators.
Like Christ, in other words, she resisted identifying herself with either the right or the left. Like Christ, she fed the poor and she also knew that man does not live by bread alone. “Visiting one of her missionary outposts in Nezahualcóyotl, Mexico, a slum where people lived in huts of corrugated metal and plywood and breathed the foul stench of factory waste and diesel fumes, she asked the people what their greatest need was. One man spoke for the rest. ‘La palabra de Dios,’ he said simply—the Word of God.”
Like many of us, perhaps, I struggle with the meaning of the New Evangelization. Evangelize to what? I sometimes wonder. Evangelize to whom? What does conversion even mean? I can be following the rules to a T, but when was the last time I wept at the trill of a bird, or a branch against the sky at dusk, or an unfurling leaf? When’s the last time I forgave someone? When’s the last time I apologized to someone? How intensely does my heart yearn? How willing am I to suffer? Those are things that can’t be measured or analyzed or reduced to a stat. Read the rest here.
I found this on the website of Sr. Briege McKenna and thought it was good food for thought! We have to make sure to remember our priorities!
A Decalogue for Priests by Bishop Klaus Hemmerle
1. How I live as a priest is more important than what I do as a priest.
2. What Christ does through me is more important than what I do by myself.
3. It is more important that I live the unity of the priesthood than plunge myself headlong and alone into ministry.
4. The ministry of prayer and word is more important than serving at tables.
5. It is more important to nurture the spiritual welfare of those who build up the parish community than to undertake alone as many activities as possible.
6. It is more important to be present in a few key points radiating life than to be half-present everywhere and in a hurry.
7. It is more important to work in unity with others than alone, no matter how capable I may feel. In other words, communion is more important than action.
8. It is more important to value the Cross which yields true life, than to value the apparent success of human talents and efforts.
9. It is more important to have an open soul - open to the community, the diocese, the universal Church - than a soul fixed on particular interests, no matter how important they may seem.
10. It is more important to witness to my faith than to be caught up in every demand that is made upon me.
Son of Zebedee and Salome. Fisherman. Brother of SaintJames the Greater, and called one of the Sons of Thunder. Disciple of SaintJohn the Baptist. Friend of SaintPeter the Apostle. Called by Jesus during the first year of His ministry, and traveled everywhere with Him, becoming so close as to be known as the beloved disciple. Took part in the Last Supper. The only one of the Twelve not to forsake the Saviour in the hour of His Passion, standing at the foot of the cross. Made guardian of Our Lady by Jesus, and he took her into his home. Upon hearing of the Resurrection, he was the first to reach the tomb; when he met the risen Lord at the lake of Tiberias, he was the first to recognize Him.
During the era of the new Church, he worked in Jerusalem and at Ephesus. During Jesus’ ministry, he tried to block a Samaritan from their group, but Jesus explained the open nature of the new Way, and he worked on that principle to found churches in Asia Minorand baptizingconverts in Samaria. Imprisoned with Peter for preaching after Pentecost. Wrote the fourth Gospel, three Epistles, and possibly the Book of Revelation. Survived all his fellow apostles.
Traditional stories:
Emperor Dometian had him brought to Rome, beaten, poisoned, and thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil, but he stepped out unharmed and was banished to Patmos instead. This is commemorated by the feast of Saint John before the Latin Gate.
When John was en route to preach in Asia, his ship was wrecked in a storm; all but John were cast ashore. John was assumeddead, but two weeks later the waves cast him ashore alive at the feet of his disciple Prochoros.
When John denounced idol worship as demonic, followers of Artemis stoned him; the rocks turned and hit the throwers.
He prayed in a temple of Artemis; fire from heaven killed 200 men who worshipped the idol. When the remaining group begged for mercy, he raised the 200 from the dead; they all converted and were baptized.
Drove out a demon who had lived in a pagan temple for 249 years.
Aboard ship, he purified vessels of sea water for drinking.
Ceonops, a magician, pretended to bring three dead people come to life; the “people” were actually demons who mimicked people so the magician could turn people away from Christ. Through prayer, John caused the magician to drown and thedemons to vanish.
Once a year his grave gave off a fragrant dust that cured the sick.
The following came from Gloria TV:
Continuing our look at the Greek Island of Patmos, we walk through the Chora, a UNSECO World Heritage village of cubic whitewashed homes and narrow, crooked pedestrian lanes surrounding the monastery. Then we enter the Cave of St. John where the Evangelist wrote the Book of the Apocalypse, the final chapter of the Bible. A final look around the seaside village then we re-join our Louis Cruise ship, Cristal.
St. Paul once wrote that “If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile, and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, [then] we are of all men most to be pitied” (1 Cor 15:17-19).
Those are strong words for a happy gathering like this one, on a beautiful day, on a vacation island like Mallorca, in a year dedicated to the virtue of faith. But they’re exactly the right words to begin our discussion today. Francis of Assisi was not a man known for his dissembling about the Gospel. And Junipero Serra, his spiritual son, had the same burning zeal in all things related to Jesus Christ. The key question facing every Christian in every age isn’t whether the Christian faith is socially useful, or consoles us when we’re sad, or makes us nicer people. The key question is whether our faith is true.
If Jesus didn’t rise from the dead – and I don’t mean “metaphorically” rise, as a kind of shared emotional experience of the Apostles; but rise in his crucified body, glorified by his Father – then we’re misleading ourselves with a fairytale. But if he did rise, then the Gospel is true. And then all of creation, and the eternity of every living man and woman, depends on Christ’s Good News being preached. So in the Gospel of Matthew, when Jesus says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (28:19-20), he’s not merely offering an invitation. He’s also binding a commission, a mandate, to every one of his disciples.
Francis of Assisi heard the Gospel, and believed, and acted on it. Junipero Serra heard the Gospel, and believed, and acted on it. And now for us, the whole point of the Year of Faith boils down to the same questions: Do we really believe; and if we do, then what are we going to do about it?
This year marks the third centenary of the birth of Father Serra. He was an extraordinary man. I don’t think we can properly measure him unless we divide his story into three parts. So first, I’ll talk about the world he was born into, and what he achieved in it. Second, I’ll talk about the kind of world we face today. And finally, I’ll talk about whether and how Serra has any continuing importance for the Church in a very different age.
The context of a person’s life helps to shape its course. And so it was with Serra. We know Mallorca today as a very pleasant tourist destination. Hannibal knew it as a source of warriors; slingers who could kill a man with a stone or a dart at more than 300 yards.
Mallorca was fought over by Carthage, Rome, the Vandals, Byzantines, Arabs and finally Christian Spain. Serra was born in 1713 into a world without electricity or modern medicine, primitive communications and transportation, and a maximum average lifespan of about 50. For most people, life was brief and hard. Death couldn’t be ignored; it was an everyday reality. The high water mark of Muslim invasion in Europe had been reached and turned back just 30 years before at the Battle of Vienna. The Great Powers, both Catholic and Protestant, were now locked in a struggle for colonies and souls in Asia and the New World.
At the same time, Europe was experiencing an explosion of wealth, discovery and human knowledge without precedent in history. The backdrop of Serra’s life thus had the texture of intense religious and political competition, and huge economic expansion. So he really did live at a pivotal moment in the history of our Church and culture.
Serra’s life story is well known. But a few details are worth remembering here. He was born Miguel Joseph Serra in the Mallorcan town of Petra. He entered the Franciscans as a teenager and took the name “Junipero,” after the early friend and companion of St. Francis. Serra had a supple, inquisitive, brilliant mind combined with tremendous personal energy. He became an accomplished theologian and philosopher. He had a successful career as a university lecturer and scholar until the age of 36, when he felt a calling to the missions and left for Mexico.
Early in his Mexican service Serra suffered a leg wound, probably a snake or insect bite, that pained him for the rest of his life. But he still walked thousands of miles in his mission work with the native peoples of Baja and Alta California. He founded Mission San Diego de Alcala – the first mission in the modern state of California – in 1769 at the ripe old age of 56. He went on to found eight more California missions personally. He also developed the system that would eventually include 21 California missions spanning hundreds of miles and many thousands of native converts to the Catholic faith.
In his years of mission leadership, he fought many times with military and political leaders in New Spain who sought to abuse or exploit the Indian population. He could be a demanding father to his native converts, but he was fierce in defending their dignity from the colonial authorities. He also had remarkable organizational skills. He was a shrewd manager of the missions’ material resources. He identified and cultivated his own successor years in advance. And he introduced products like grapes, lemons, oranges, sheep and cattle that later became key to the state’s agricultural economy. He died in 1784, at the age of 70, at the Mission San Carlos Borromeo in Carmel. Today both state and federal authorities in the United States honor his memory for the impact he had on the development of modern California.
Serra’s life can be summed up in the qualities that set him apart. First, he had humility. As an adult, Serra was a respected man of learning; a revered and comfortable university professor. He put all that aside — in a century when 36 was middle aged — for a life of uncertainty and hardship on the other side of the world. That’s humility. Second, he was a man of audacity. I almost said “courage,” and Serra certainly had courage. But courage is too small a word. Serra had courage married to imagination, confidence and ambition; an ambition for God, not for personal glory. That’s audacity. That’s the kind of courage that transforms lives and history. He also had foresight in his planning,endurance in making those plans happen, political skill in dealing with authority, and superior leadership ability with a very limited mix of people and resources under brutally difficult conditions. That’s a kind of genius.
He also had one other quality that animated all the others: a zealous Franciscan faith. But we’ll come back to that later. Meanwhile I want to turn to the second part of our task in measuring Serra the man. And that requires us to understand the pastoral terrain we face as Christians right now, today. We should probably start by realizing that some of the same civil authorities that once happily honored Father Serra with statues in Golden Gate Park and the U.S. Capitol building now work even harder to restrict the freedom of American religious communities, force the Church out of public debate, and impose same-sex “marriage” as the law. Father Serra gave his life to the task of bringing the Gospel to the New World. But the “new world” we actually have in A.D. 2013 is alien to almost anything Serra could have imagined.
Blessed Pope John Paul II saw the outline of our new “new world” more than 30 years ago. And following his lead, the Church has been calling Catholics to the work of a “new evangelization” ever since. But there’s a natural human tendency to attach magic powers to slogans, which then replace serious thought and effort — as if saying the slogan, or talking about it, actually makes mission work happen. In practice, the words “new evangelization” are overused and underthought. Unless we reconfigure our lives to understanding and acting on it, the “new evangelization” is just another pious intention – well meaning, but ultimately infertile.
What if I told you that Jesus didn’t want us to win converts? What if I said that in all of Scripture we are never told to convert anyone? What if I proposed that people accepting Jesus into their life does not fulfill our mission?
We may share the Gospel, but it’s not always the same Gospel Jesus shared. Our version can be a little softer. It can be easier. The message, too often, has been watered down. Many of us don’t want to be called radicals. May of us take the message of Jesus, and we omit some of the more intense parts because they might scare people away.
An Inconvenient Truth
Out of our desire to win converts we’ve often tried to make Jesus more convenient. That’s what our culture is all about. So watering down the Gospel to reflect the culture can be an easy trap to fall into.
We often make following Jesus comfortable and easy, reducing the expectations: You don’t have to do anything different. Just believe.
The Consumerism Gospel
When we sell people on a Jesus who is easy to follow, can we really blame them for bailing out or drifting off when things don’t go smoothly?
It shouldn’t be surprising living in a consumer-based culture, that many times people bring the same attitudes into church: It’s my way, my preferences, my desires that are important. If I don’t get my way, I’ll take my business elsewhere.
In watering down the Gospel we have taken what is all about Jesus and made it all about us.
Jesus is a part of our lives when He should be our life. He is life. Following Him requires all our life. The disciples ate, drank, sweat and slept ministry from when Jesus called them to the day they died. Jesus wasn’t a part of their lives. He was their life.
We all are guilty of putting things above Jesus. Whether it's health, wealth, comfort, causes, dreams, hobbies or interests, we all come to Jesus with expectations of what He will do for us. We all have our passions and causes.
But Jesus didn’t come to take sides. Jesus came to take over.
Disciples vs. Converts
Many people come to Jesus thinking it is enough to believe, to stand on the sidelines and root for Him. Jesus isn’t looking for cheerleaders. He is seeking men and women who will follow Him whatever the cost. He is looking for radical devotion, unreasonable commitment and undivided dedication.
Jesus isn’t looking for converts. He’s looking for disciples.
Converts are new believers. We all start as converts. Too often we stop there. We make Christianity all about what we believe. Converts aren’t bad or wrong. They are like babies. There’s nothing wrong with being a baby. The problem comes when that doesn’t change. When a baby acts like a baby, it’s cute. When a 35-year-old does, it’s sad. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 13:11, “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”
For years churches have worked to get people to make a decision to accept Christ, which is a great thing. It’s important. But what happens next? Where’s the follow up? How do we train up new Christians?
Not only is a disciple willing to die for Jesus, but they are dedicated to living every day of their life for Him.
Our mission isn’t to win converts; it’s to make disciples. So what is the difference?
Converts are believers who live like the world. Disciples are believers who live like Jesus.
Converts are focused on their values, interests, worries, fears, priorities, and lifestyles. Disciples are focused on Jesus.
Converts go to church. Disciples are the church.
Converts are involved in the mission of Jesus. Disciples are committed to it.
Converts cheer from the sidelines. Disciples are in the game.
Converts hear the word of God. Disciples live it.
Converts follow the rules. Disciples follow Jesus.
Converts are all about believing. Disciples are all about being.
Converts are comfortable. Disciples make sacrifices.
Converts talk. Disciples make more disciples.
A disciple is someone who whole-heartedly follows the life and example of Jesus, who makes His mission their mission, His values their values, and His heart their heart.
A disciple is someone who desperately seeks to be like Jesus. A disciple is someone so committed to the cause of Christ that they would follow Him through the gates of hell and back.
A disciple is someone who finds their entire identity, purpose and meaning in Jesus. Jesus is the center of their lives. They are all in, fully committed.
Not only is a disciple willing to die for Jesus, but they are dedicated to living every day of their life for Him.
“Every form of catechesis would do well to attend to the “way of beauty” (via pulchritudinis). Proclaiming Christ means showing that to believe in and to follow him is not only something right and true, but also something beautiful, capable of filling life with new splendour and profound joy, even in the midst of difficulties. Every expression of true beauty can thus be acknowledged as a path leading to an encounter with the Lord Jesus. This has nothing to do with fostering an aesthetic relativism which would downplay the inseparable bond between truth, goodness and beauty, but rather a renewed esteem for beauty as a means of touching the human heart and enabling the truth and goodness of the Risen Christ to radiate within it. If, as Saint Augustine says, we love only that which is beautiful, the incarnate Son, as the revelation of infinite beauty, is supremely lovable and draws us to himself with bonds of love. So a formation in the via pulchritudinis ought to be part of our effort to pass on the faith.” Pope Francis (The Joy of the Gospel)
I prefer a Church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a Church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security.
“I prefer a Church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a Church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security. I do not want a Church concerned with being at the centre and then ends by being caught up in a web of obsessions and procedures. If something should rightly disturb us and trouble our consciences, it is the fact that so many of our brothers and sisters are living without the strength, light and consolation born of friendship with Jesus Christ, without a community of faith to support them, without meaning and a goal in life. More than by fear of going astray, my hope is that we will be moved by the fear of remaining shut up within structures which give us a false sense of security, within rules which make us harsh judges, within habits which make us feel safe, while at our door people are starving and Jesus does not tire of saying to us: “Give them something to eat” (Mk 6:37).” Pope Francis (Joy of the Gospel)
Catholics at the 10th anniversary of the National Catholic Prayer Breakfast got a startling wake-up call on Tuesday morning: They have lost the luxury of being comfortable in their faith in 21st-century America. More than ever before, they must embrace the risks of discipleship by encountering others and witnessing to the Gospel.
For the 800 people gathered in Washington, the morning’s speeches were mainly divided between Princeton professor Robert George’s sobering assessment of what Christian discipleship requires in America’s current cultural-political landscape and Cardinal Sean O’Malley of Boston’s cheerful exhortation for Catholics to embrace the missionary spirit of the early Church.
The breakfast coincided with the feast of Our Lady of Fatima as well as the 33rd anniversary of the near-assassination of St. John Paul II in St. Peter’s Square.
Cardinal Donald Wuerl of Washington set the tone for the morning with his invocation, asking God’s blessing “in this time of spiritual renewal and New Evangelization” on the breakfast participants gathered “together here in faith and testimony to the Holy Spirit.”
The cardinal asked that God might “lift our hearts, enlighten our minds and strengthen our souls,” and he asked for the intercession of St. John Paul II and Mary under her titles of Our Lady of Fatima and Our Lady of Guadalupe, as they prepared to “re-propose the Gospel to the world.”
“We ask you to inspire us to be more courageous in responding to the challenges of religious liberty, social justice and to the gift of human life,” he said. “Let us be agents of the New Evangelization, living as faithful followers of Jesus, your Son, in sharing our faith with those around us.”
After a short video introduction from Jim Caviezel about his new film, When the Game Stands Tall, the audience settled in for the two main speakers.
No More ‘Tame Catholics’
George told Catholics that he had a “somber” message for them: “The days of acceptable Christianity are over. The days of comfortable Catholicism are past.”
He warned that a “price is demanded” of all committed believers, as mainstream America registers its preference for Catholics who might go to Mass but do not embrace the totality of the Church’s teachings — or those who know the Church’s teaching but prefer safety in their silence.
“In other words, a tame Catholic who is ashamed of the Gospel is socially acceptable,” said George, even as he called on his audience to “take risks” and follow Christ’s words to “take up thy cross and follow me.”
The costs of discipleship may be personal, familial or professional, he said. Standing up for the Church’s teaching on the dignity of human life and marriage — teachings which he said are “not fourth-class Gospel truths” and must be proclaimed with all of the Church’s revealed teaching — may lead to charges of “bigotry” or waging a “war on women” or that Christians are an “enemy of reproductive freedom.”
“To believe in the Gospel is to make oneself a marked man or woman,” he said.
Culturally, the Church in America has found itself in “Good Friday,” George observed.
The shifting, more hostile cultural landscape indicates American society’s “love affair with Jesus and his Church is over.”
George reminded his audience that while Jesus Christ has won the ultimate battle, those who live during this time must one day “give an account for all we do” before the “Lord of truth, the God of history.”
“One thing and one thing only will matter: Was I a faithful witness to the Gospel?”
“My friends,” he said, “the Gospel is true, and that is the most important thing to know. … We’re betting our whole lives on it.”
Happy Gospel Warriors
Following upon George’s somber analysis, Cardinal O’Malley livened the mood with a couple of humorous anecdotes. But the cardinal’s levity served to underscore his point that Catholics must embrace Pope Francis’ call to foster a “culture of encounter” and practice “the art of accompaniment” as modern-day disciples of Jesus Christ.
“Our task is to turn consumers into disciples and disciples into disciple-makers,” he said. “We need to prepare people to witness to the faith and not to send people into the witness-protection program.”
Welcome to the Blog! I am a Catholic Priest and was ordained to the priesthood on August 26, 2000. I hope this site is a place of interest for you where you will find ideas and information on the Catholic faith and the Church.
