Fifth Sunday of Easter: 4/24/05
Fifth Sunday of Easter
Acts 6: 1-7
1 Peter 2: 4-9
John 14: 1-12
"Have I been with you so long, Philip, and yet you do not know me?"
Being a monk, people expect that I will know some things about what’s going on in the Church, and rightly so. As such, various persons have tapped me for an opinion on our new pope. I try to mention how grateful I am for his choice of the name Benedict for starters. I’ve also caught myself a couple of times claiming to know the man, from the mere fact of having read several of his books. This is, of course, absurd: I’ve never met Cardinal Ratzinger, logged hours getting to know him. Pope John Paul II once complained that his many biographers didn’t understand him.
The absurdity of claiming that we know anyone is the fact that few of us really know ourselves all that well. We need the challenges of life to bring out of ourselves all kinds of latent talents and virtues, weaknesses and vices. It is a commonplace in monastic literature that one of the first things that happens when a novice begins his monastic life that he suddenly finds himself overwhelmingly tempted by sin. He is often tempted to blame the community, but what is happening in fact is that the community is bringing out of him a part that he had previously kept hidden, perhaps even from himself. It also happens, at least we hope and expect, that the monk discovers his uniqueness and lovable-ness from his regular encounter in prayer with Jesus Christ.
The best and perhaps only way to learn about ourselves is in dialogue with another. The more we learn about others, the more we learn about ourselves, and in this respect, the importance of prayer is underlined. In the words of our late Holy Father, Jesus Christ reveals man to himself. One startling fact that is revealed is that each of us has an infinite capacity for love and for growth. This follows from the fact that God is infinite and the time we hope to spend with God is eternal. Hence it is that Saint Gregory of Nyssa can define perfection as perpetually becoming more perfected.
This is an aspect of heaven that we often don’t think about: that it will be an active state, not mere repose. There are two other mistaken notions about heaven that today’s gospel illuminate. The first mistaken notion is that our dwelling place will somehow be a room of our own. We often see souls pictured as solitary angels, sitting on clouds with harps. When we hear that the Father’s house has many dwelling places, we are apt to hear that we will spend eternity each in our own cells.
If we cast our glance back to the second chapter of John’s gospel, we get a different impression. Jesus overturns the tables of the moneychangers who are turning His Father’s house into a market. When He is asked for a sign to establish His credentials as a prophet, He responds, "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up." Saint John tells us in an aside that this temple is the temple of His body, not the earthly temple which He had just referred to as His Father’s House.
So after the Resurrection, the Father’s house is none other than Jesus Himself. When Jesus goes to prepare a place for us, what He is doing is sacrificing His body upon the cross so that the Holy Spirit may be poured out upon us. This pouring out of the Holy Spirit incorporates us into Jesus’ body. In a sense, the return about which Jesus speaks in today’s gospel is the Feast of Pentecost, that Feast on which Jesus returns in His Holy Spirit and by our baptism in the Spirit, takes us to himself. Can it be that Jesus’ Second Coming is simply the establishment of His Church? What about the stars falling from heaven, the great apostasy and the other phenomena that are predicted to precede Christ’s coming?
Herein lies another misconception about our goal of the heavenly homeland. When Jesus says, "I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be," He presents a conundrum to scholars of Saint John’s gospel. This is so because throughout most of the gospel of Saint John, Jesus speaks as if the Second Coming had already happened. He says forthrightly that whoever feeds on His flesh will never die. He says that the hour in which we shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth is now. Jesus says that the hour is now when the dead hear the voice of the Son of God and live.
What Catholic theologians would usually say about this tension is that our understanding of eschatology, that is the science of the Last Things, balances two interpenetrating realities: that Christ is here, present and also is not here. We used to hear of this from the perspective of the believer that we are in the world but not of it. Actually, this formulation doesn’t go far enough. We are in the world, when by all rights, we should be in heaven. The gift of Christ’s presence is ours but we, being yet in the world, tend to be weighed down by many considerations and so forget that where Christ is, there are we. And Christ is enthroned at the right hand of God in majesty.
One reason this is difficult for us to realize is that we forget that this place has a human form and not a disembodied spiritual form only. The dwelling places prepared for us are available for us now, but only inasmuch as we are prepared to give ourselves over to the Church as Christ’s Body. This is a scandal because the Church, as it presents itself to us in this world is very much affected by its human nature. Imperfect persons striving, we hope, for the perfection of Christian faith, hope and love, but regularly falling short.
The scandalous reality of Christ’s presence in the midst of our weak earthen vessels has perhaps no greater symbol than the pope of Rome. It is well known that the choice of Cardinal Ratzinger is not terribly popular in the United States. I understand. Those who love the church and fear that she will not survive without some changes should not be characterized automatically as unfaithful by those who disagree. Indeed, I have heard from several persons pleased by the news that they hope that this pope will exclude from the Church those who disagree with them. How can it be that supposedly faithful Catholics can speak as if it were God’s will that there be division and that the symbol of our unity in faith might seek this division? In either case, the danger is actually the same. The danger is that I assume that God must share my agenda, and that this must be carried out by the pope. This is not to say that we must not have our own opinions on how the Church should be governed, but we must not expect that our happiness in being in the Church depends on her worldly success. The Church, that is, the saints, the pope, the bishops, the laity, men, women, old and young, zealous and lukewarm believers: all of these are Christ’s, and all are presented to each believer as assistance in getting to know Christ. When we persuade ourselves into thinking someone or other, even myself outside the Church, we run the risk of hearing what was said to Philip: "Have I been with you so long a time, my dear friend, and you still do not know me?" There are many dwelling places in the Church, and how grand she is because of this. Let us in prayer grow deeper in love for Jesus Christ, so that where He is, we may be with our whole heart mind and strength.
Acts 6: 1-7
1 Peter 2: 4-9
John 14: 1-12
"Have I been with you so long, Philip, and yet you do not know me?"
Being a monk, people expect that I will know some things about what’s going on in the Church, and rightly so. As such, various persons have tapped me for an opinion on our new pope. I try to mention how grateful I am for his choice of the name Benedict for starters. I’ve also caught myself a couple of times claiming to know the man, from the mere fact of having read several of his books. This is, of course, absurd: I’ve never met Cardinal Ratzinger, logged hours getting to know him. Pope John Paul II once complained that his many biographers didn’t understand him.
The absurdity of claiming that we know anyone is the fact that few of us really know ourselves all that well. We need the challenges of life to bring out of ourselves all kinds of latent talents and virtues, weaknesses and vices. It is a commonplace in monastic literature that one of the first things that happens when a novice begins his monastic life that he suddenly finds himself overwhelmingly tempted by sin. He is often tempted to blame the community, but what is happening in fact is that the community is bringing out of him a part that he had previously kept hidden, perhaps even from himself. It also happens, at least we hope and expect, that the monk discovers his uniqueness and lovable-ness from his regular encounter in prayer with Jesus Christ.
The best and perhaps only way to learn about ourselves is in dialogue with another. The more we learn about others, the more we learn about ourselves, and in this respect, the importance of prayer is underlined. In the words of our late Holy Father, Jesus Christ reveals man to himself. One startling fact that is revealed is that each of us has an infinite capacity for love and for growth. This follows from the fact that God is infinite and the time we hope to spend with God is eternal. Hence it is that Saint Gregory of Nyssa can define perfection as perpetually becoming more perfected.
This is an aspect of heaven that we often don’t think about: that it will be an active state, not mere repose. There are two other mistaken notions about heaven that today’s gospel illuminate. The first mistaken notion is that our dwelling place will somehow be a room of our own. We often see souls pictured as solitary angels, sitting on clouds with harps. When we hear that the Father’s house has many dwelling places, we are apt to hear that we will spend eternity each in our own cells.
If we cast our glance back to the second chapter of John’s gospel, we get a different impression. Jesus overturns the tables of the moneychangers who are turning His Father’s house into a market. When He is asked for a sign to establish His credentials as a prophet, He responds, "Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up." Saint John tells us in an aside that this temple is the temple of His body, not the earthly temple which He had just referred to as His Father’s House.
So after the Resurrection, the Father’s house is none other than Jesus Himself. When Jesus goes to prepare a place for us, what He is doing is sacrificing His body upon the cross so that the Holy Spirit may be poured out upon us. This pouring out of the Holy Spirit incorporates us into Jesus’ body. In a sense, the return about which Jesus speaks in today’s gospel is the Feast of Pentecost, that Feast on which Jesus returns in His Holy Spirit and by our baptism in the Spirit, takes us to himself. Can it be that Jesus’ Second Coming is simply the establishment of His Church? What about the stars falling from heaven, the great apostasy and the other phenomena that are predicted to precede Christ’s coming?
Herein lies another misconception about our goal of the heavenly homeland. When Jesus says, "I will come back again and take you to myself, so that where I am you also may be," He presents a conundrum to scholars of Saint John’s gospel. This is so because throughout most of the gospel of Saint John, Jesus speaks as if the Second Coming had already happened. He says forthrightly that whoever feeds on His flesh will never die. He says that the hour in which we shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth is now. Jesus says that the hour is now when the dead hear the voice of the Son of God and live.
What Catholic theologians would usually say about this tension is that our understanding of eschatology, that is the science of the Last Things, balances two interpenetrating realities: that Christ is here, present and also is not here. We used to hear of this from the perspective of the believer that we are in the world but not of it. Actually, this formulation doesn’t go far enough. We are in the world, when by all rights, we should be in heaven. The gift of Christ’s presence is ours but we, being yet in the world, tend to be weighed down by many considerations and so forget that where Christ is, there are we. And Christ is enthroned at the right hand of God in majesty.
One reason this is difficult for us to realize is that we forget that this place has a human form and not a disembodied spiritual form only. The dwelling places prepared for us are available for us now, but only inasmuch as we are prepared to give ourselves over to the Church as Christ’s Body. This is a scandal because the Church, as it presents itself to us in this world is very much affected by its human nature. Imperfect persons striving, we hope, for the perfection of Christian faith, hope and love, but regularly falling short.
The scandalous reality of Christ’s presence in the midst of our weak earthen vessels has perhaps no greater symbol than the pope of Rome. It is well known that the choice of Cardinal Ratzinger is not terribly popular in the United States. I understand. Those who love the church and fear that she will not survive without some changes should not be characterized automatically as unfaithful by those who disagree. Indeed, I have heard from several persons pleased by the news that they hope that this pope will exclude from the Church those who disagree with them. How can it be that supposedly faithful Catholics can speak as if it were God’s will that there be division and that the symbol of our unity in faith might seek this division? In either case, the danger is actually the same. The danger is that I assume that God must share my agenda, and that this must be carried out by the pope. This is not to say that we must not have our own opinions on how the Church should be governed, but we must not expect that our happiness in being in the Church depends on her worldly success. The Church, that is, the saints, the pope, the bishops, the laity, men, women, old and young, zealous and lukewarm believers: all of these are Christ’s, and all are presented to each believer as assistance in getting to know Christ. When we persuade ourselves into thinking someone or other, even myself outside the Church, we run the risk of hearing what was said to Philip: "Have I been with you so long a time, my dear friend, and you still do not know me?" There are many dwelling places in the Church, and how grand she is because of this. Let us in prayer grow deeper in love for Jesus Christ, so that where He is, we may be with our whole heart mind and strength.
posted by Prior Peter, OSB | 1:19 PM
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