Sunday, October 2, 2016

"You lead me to Ars,
and I'll lead you to heaven!"


This weekend, in place of a homily, I preached a sermon on the document Guidelines for the Celebration of the Sacraments with Persons and Families Considering or Opting for Death by Assisted Suicide and Euthanasia published by the Bishops of Alberta and the North-West Territories.  Given the many requests for copies of my sermon, I have decided to post it here.


There’s a famous story about St Jean Vianney when he was sent to the city of Ars to be its parish priest.  On the way, he got lost:  He came upon a small boy who was playing, so he asked the boy for help getting to Ars. The boy said,  “Yes, Father, I’ll take you to Ars.”  St JeanVianney replied with his famous words, “You lead me to Ars, and I’ll lead you to heaven.”
            Salus animarum suprema lex.  “The salvation of souls is the supreme law [of the Church.]”  The Church’s entire mission is oriented towards your salvation and mine; whenever the Church says “Yes” to something, it is in order to procure our salvation, and whenever the Church says “No” to other things, it is in order to avoid jeopardising our salvation.
            If you followed the news on Friday, you will remember that the Church, by way of the Bishops of Alberta and the North-West Territories, said “No” to offering the Sacraments and even a funeral Mass to those who have decided to commit self-murder, which the government sugar-coats by calling it “medical aid in dying.”
            Let’s put this into perspective, because perspective is just what you aren’t going to get from CBC or Global TV or the Edmonton Journal.
            Remember the story of Jesus being challenged about paying taxes to Caesar [cf Mt  22:15-22; Mk 12:13-17; Lk 20:20-26]?  What did He say?  “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s, and to God that which is God’s.”  Now, if payment of taxes were due to Caesar because Roman coins bore his image, our next question becomes:  What bears God’s image such that it is due to God?  The answer:  Our souls, because we were created in God’s image and likeness, and just as payment was due to Caesar because coins had his stamp on it, so too do our souls belong to God because they bear God’s stamp upon them.  St Paul wrote, “None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself.  If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die we die to the Lord; so when, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s” [Rom 14:7].  The Apostle further emphasizes this by writing that, “You are not your own: you were bought with a price” [1 Cor 6:19].
            But, in order to attain salvation, we must remain in the state of sanctifying grace.  What does that mean?  To be “in grace” is to be “in friendship with God.”  When we sin, our friendship with God is impaired; when we sin gravely, we have unfriended God; if we die while still unfriended with God, he respects our choice of excluding ourselves from everlasting happiness in the next life.  To die without grace in our souls is the most terrible thing we can do, because we have opted to forfeit heaven for something earthly.  The sacraments are always given efficaciously, but they are not always received fruitfully; it is for this reason that the Last Rites cannot be administered to someone who has decided to break the Fifth Commandment by committing self-murder.  To do otherwise would be to commit sacrilege.
            Let’s pause for a moment.  No doubt some of you are shocked by what I’m saying.  Perhaps, even, you’re saying, “That’s hurtful!” or “That does not respect the feelings of the patient who wants assisted suicide.”  But look what you’re really saying:  You’re saying that feelings are more important than the soul.  Look more closely:  Many people have forgotten that they have souls worth saving, so they go for the next-best thing:  Feelings worth assuaging.  Many people have exchanged the salvation of souls for the assuaging of feelings.
            But who, I ask you, in his right mind, would rather save his feelings in this life, only to lose his soul in the next?  Wouldn’t you rather prioritise the salvation of your soul, despite all pains and sufferings?  It is the height of insanity to escape temporal sufferings in this life, only to have everlasting sufferings in the next.  Again, St Paul has something to say:  “I consider that  the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” [Rom 8:18].
            Life is difficult, I know.  I had spinal meningitis, which I would not trade the world for because it left me with the blessing of being Deaf so that I can proclaim the Gospel in sign language.  I once had depression, and wanted life to be over with because my sadness seemed unbearable, but looking back, I would not trade that for all the world either, because it’s made me sensitive to those of you who may be suffering.  And I know that the minutes of pain seem like hours, and I know that years of pain seem like an eternity.  But I ask you to consider Jesus, whose life on earth had one simple purpose:  To go to the Cross.  God the Son became the Son of Mary precisely so that he would have a Body in order to bear our death [Heb 10:5], and to tell us on Easter:  I know what it’s like, but Life is become victorious.
            But consider another option open to Jesus.  When Satan tempted Him the wilderness [Mt 4:1-11; Lk 4:1-13], he offered Jesus a following if he survived jumping off the Temple, the whole world if Jesus would worship him, relief from hunger if Jesus would use His Divinity for his own pleasure.  What Satan was doing, in fact, was trying to get Jesus to bypass the Cross.  But, no.  Jesus went to the Cross anyway—and for what?  To show God’s solidarity with suffering humanity, and in the Person of Jesus Crucified, to merit for us eternal life in heaven.
            God made us for one simple reason:  Happiness.  But so many people have substituted happiness for pleasure, and in so doing, have given priority to feelings over their souls and to seek relief from pain in this life only to find it again, everlastingly, in the next.  Thomas Merton said, “We were not made for pleasure; we were made for joy,” and that joy is found only in the company of Jesus, and only after we’ve endured the brunt of the world [cf Acts 14:22].
            Did you know that the sufferings of Jesus on the Cross left something to be desired?  Yes—he left an opening for us.  During his imprisonment in Rome and awaiting his execution because of his faithfulness to Jesus, St Paul wrote:  “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions” [Col 1:24].  I have yet to come across a suffering saint who died unhappily.  I have yet to come across a tortured martyr who died grief-stricken.  Why? Because suffering is only transitory, and Jesus gives us the strength to bear it, while anticipating an eternity of beatitude, provided we remain faithful to God, despite everything:  “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away” [Apoc 21:4].
            The Church desires nothing less than the salvation of all her children, indeed, the salvation of all peoples.  That’s why she always has, to use the epitaph of Robert Frost, “a lover’s quarrel with the world.”

            The supreme law of the Church is the salvation of souls.  Lead us to your pain and your suffering, and we will lead you to heaven.

"You lead me to Ars,
and I'll lead you to heaven!"


This weekend, in place of a homily, I preached a sermon on the document Guidelines for the Celebration of the Sacraments with Persons and Families Considering or Opting for Death by Assisted Suicide and Euthanasia.  Given the many requests for copies of my sermon, I have decided to post it here.


There’s a famous story about St Jean Vianney when he was sent to the city of Ars to be its parish priest.  On the way, he got lost:  He came upon a small boy who was playing, so he asked the boy for help getting to Ars. The boy said,  “Yes, Father, I’ll take you to Ars.”  St JeanVianney replied with his famous words, “You lead me to Ars, and I’ll lead you to heaven.”
            Salus animarum suprema lex.  “The salvation of souls is the supreme law [of the Church.]”  The Church’s entire mission is oriented towards your salvation and mine; whenever the Church says “Yes” to something, it is in order to procure our salvation, and whenever the Church says “No” to other things, it is in order to avoid jeopardising our salvation.
            If you followed the news on Friday, you will remember that the Church, in the persons of the Bishops of Alberta and the North-West Territories, said “No” to offering the Sacraments and even a funeral Mass to those who have decided to commit self-murder, which the government sugar-coats by calling it “medical aid in dying.”
            Let’s put this into perspective, because perspective is just what you aren’t going to get from CBC or Global TV or the Edmonton Journal.
            Remember the story of Jesus being challenged about paying taxes to Caesar [cf Mt  22:15-22; Mk 12:13-17; Lk 20:20-26]?  What did He say?  “Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s, and to God that which is God’s.”  Now, if payment of taxes were due to Caesar because Roman coins bore his image, our next question becomes:  What bears God’s image such that it is due to God?  The answer:  Our souls, because we were created in God’s image and likeness, and just as payment was due to Caesar because coins had his stamp on it, so too do our souls belong to God because they bear God’s stamp upon them.  St Paul wrote, “None of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself.  If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die we die to the Lord; so when, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s” [Rom 14:7].  The Apostle further emphasizes this by writing that, “You are not your own: you were bought with a price” [1 Cor 6:19].
            But, in order to attain salvation, we must remain in the state of sanctifying grace.  What does that mean?  To be “in grace” is to be “in friendship with God.”  When we sin, our friendship with God is impaired; when we sin gravely, we have unfriended God; if we die while still unfriended with God, he respects our choice of excluding ourselves from everlasting happiness in the next life.  To die without grace in our souls is the most terrible thing we can do, because we have opted to forfeit heaven for something earthly.  The sacraments are always given efficaciously, but they are not always received fruitfully; it is for this reason that the Last Rites cannot be administered to someone who has decided to break the Fifth Commandment by committing self-murder.  To do otherwise would be to commit sacrilege.
            Let’s pause for a moment.  No doubt some of you are shocked by what I’m saying.  Perhaps, even, you’re saying, “That’s hurtful!” or “That does not respect the feelings of the patient who wants assisted suicide.”  But look what you’re really saying:  You’re saying that feelings are more important than the soul.  Look more closely:  Many people have forgotten that they have souls worth saving, so they go for the next-best thing:  Feelings worth assuaging.  Many people have exchanged the salvation of souls for the assuaging of feelings.
            But who, I ask you, in his right mind, would rather save his feelings in this life, only to lose his soul in the next?  Wouldn’t you rather prioritise the salvation of your soul, despite all pains and sufferings?  It is the height of insanity to escape temporal sufferings in this life, only to have everlasting sufferings in the next.  Again, St Paul has something to say:  “I consider that  the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” [Rom 8:18].
            Life is difficult, I know.  I had spinal meningitis, which I would not trade the world for because it left me with the blessing of being Deaf so that I can proclaim the Gospel in sign language.  I once had depression, and wanted life to be over with because my sadness seemed unbearable, but looking back, I would not trade that for all the world either, because it’s made me sensitive to those of you who may be suffering.  And I know that the minutes of pain seem like hours, and I know that years of pain seem like an eternity.  But I ask you to consider Jesus, whose life on earth had one simple purpose:  To go to the Cross.  God the Son became the Son of Mary precisely so that he would have a Body in order to bear our death [Heb 10:5], and to tell us on Easter:  I know what it’s like, but Life is become victorious.
            But consider another option open to Jesus.  When Satan tempted Him the wilderness [Mt 4:1-11; Lk 4:1-13], he offered Jesus a following if he survived jumping off the Temple, the whole world if Jesus would worship him, relief from hunger if Jesus would use His Divinity for his own pleasure.  What Satan was doing, in fact, was trying to get Jesus to bypass the Cross.  But, no.  Jesus went to the Cross anyway—and for what?  To show God’s solidarity with suffering humanity, and in the Person of Jesus Crucified, to merit for us eternal life in heaven.
            God made us for one simple reason:  Happiness.  But so many people have substituted happiness for pleasure, and in so doing, have given priority to feelings over their souls and to seek relief from pain in this life only to find it again, everlastingly, in the next.  Thomas Merton said, “We were not made for pleasure; we were made for joy,” and that joy is found only in the company of Jesus, and only after we’ve endured the brunt of the world [cf Acts 14:22].
            Did you know that the sufferings of Jesus on the Cross left something to be desired?  Yes—he left an opening for us.  During his imprisonment in Rome and awaiting his execution because of his faithfulness to Jesus, St Paul wrote:  “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions” [Col 1:24].  I have yet to come across a suffering saint who died unhappily.  I have yet to come across a tortured martyr who died grief-stricken.  Why? Because suffering is only transitory, and Jesus gives us the strength to bear it, while anticipating an eternity of beatitude, provided we remain faithful to God, despite everything:  “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away” [Apoc 21:4].
            The Church desires nothing less than the salvation of all her children, indeed, the salvation of all peoples.  That’s why she always has, to use the epitaph of Robert Frost, “a lover’s quarrel with the world.”

            The supreme law of the Church is the salvation of souls.  Lead us to your pain and your suffering, and we will lead you to heaven.

Friday, December 25, 2015

A Linus van Pelt Christmas

The following is the homily I preached at both my parishes of Corpus Christi and St Mark's Community of the Deaf at the 'Mass at Night' of the Lord's Nativity.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Charlie Brown Christmas Special broadcast.  I’m sure most of you have seen it; I bought the DVD earlier this week because, as a kid, I never understood the dialogue—closed captioning was not available to me until I was in high school.  (When I finally got my closed-captioned decoder, all of my dreams were captioned for a week!)
     There is one scene in the play—the high point, really—that ought to catch our attention.  We all know of Linus, the boy with his ever-present security blanket.  In the Peanuts series and especially in the Christmas special, Linus is berated for always having his ‘blankie’ with him, and refuses to let go of it.
     At one point when Charlie Brown says he does not understand the true meaning of Christmas, Linus takes centre-stage at the play they are rehearsing and recites Luke 2:8-16 from memory.  It’s the same gospel we just heard.  “And in that region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.  And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear…”  The whole time, Linus is holding his blankie.  But then, he does the unthinkable.  He continued, “…And the angel said to them, fear not…”  At that moment when Linus said “fear not,” he lets go of the blanket, and continued the story, which we all know so well.

 

     You see, we each have our own proverbial ‘security blankets’—they can be anything.  Our reputation.  Our position at work.  Money.  Being scared of dying.  These are not bad things.  But when they become our security blankets, we prop up an alternative to Jesus.  A counterfeit messiah.  But our counterfeit messiahs arise from our fears, fears that Jesus was born to relieve.  “Fear not!”  This is the most frequent saying found in the Bible—“Fear not!” or “Be not afraid!”  It is found more than 300 times in all of the divine Scriptures.  The Lord is insistent that we take heart in his care for us and to abandon our fears.
     Linus got the message right:  “Fear not!”  The moment he said that, he lets go.  The same invitation goes to us tonight:  “Fear not.”  Our fears drive us into a futile attempt at self-salvation, or self-redemption.  But the angel that spoke to the shepherds address us as well:  “Fear not; for behold, I bring you Good News of great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour.  He is Christ the Lord.”
     Tonight is when we come to bear in mind, in the severest way possible, that there is only one Messiah, and it’s none of us.  “Come thou long-expected Jesus, born to set Thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in Thee.”  In another carol we also sing:  “The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.”
     At the end of the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, we remember that Charlie Brown goes in search of the perfect Christmas tree—and finds only one real evergreen in a commercial lot full of aluminum and artificial trees.  But when he goes to decorate it, it still doesn’t go well.  He walks away, and the rest of the neighbour kids decide to try to dress the tree, beginning with Linus.  What does he do?   He takes his blanket and wraps it at the base of the tree, thus enabling it to stand upright.  And that is what the Lord wants to do with all of our hopes and fears, and with all of our shortcomings:  the Lord desires to transform them into something beautiful.  Just as the Eternal Word was transformed into a helpless infant, also does He want to transform us from helpless creatures into his children of his mercy and redemption.


     But in order to do that, we must rediscover how to embrace Christ the Lord, who embraced us the night He was born.  Merry Christmas.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Deaf Pride as a Model for Equality Movements


Waiting On The World To Change has been the unofficial song of 'Deaf Pride' and every once in a while, the above video makes its rounds as a sort of rallying cry for us Deaf people to keep up with the struggle for accessibility in an otherwise 'hearing world.'
     While the song is a bit sappy for my taste, it does aptly illustrate the sentiment that many Deaf people harbour in their efforts to overcome the communication barrier that comes with being unable to hear--and sometimes speak--in a world of P.A. announcements, fast-talkers, radios, and the refusal of many services to provide sign language interpreters.  To get an idea of what it's like being a Deaf person 'left out' of the hearing world, consider these typical experiences:

  • Roadside 'amber alerts' warning drivers to "tune to" such and such a station for information regarding a recently-abducted child.  Deaf people, who are generally more visually perceptive than hearing people (because of their primary reliance on eyesight) miss both the opportunity to stay in the loop and to helpfully be on the lookout for abducted children;
  • Many Deaf patients are left out of the loop regarding their hospitalisation because physicians and nurses prefer to speak with hearing relatives and make decisions that way instead of seeking out a sign language interpreter and directly communicate with the Deaf patient;
  • P.A. announcements at aerorports and on planes leave many Deaf passengers completely out of the loop to gate changes and why a plane may be on the runway for a long while before taking off.  When gate agents or airline attendants are called by Deaf people for an explanation, they are usually met with facial expressions of exasperation and fustration, as if our need to know the situation is unnecessary;
  • Customer service agents at stores oftentimes refer queries to a 1-800 number to call.  Deaf people usually cannot hear well enough on the phone or enunciate well enough to speak on the phone, and most companies do not even have a TTY line--which, by the way, represent technology that is fast becoming obsolete;
  • Many schools and universities impose substandard sign language interpreters because they do not want to invest time in searching for quality interpreters or devote a significant portion of the budge to interpretative services;
  • Closed-captioning on most cable news services rely on either terrible transcribers or terrible speech-to-text software, leaving many Deaf people unaware of how important events being reported are unfolding.
Additionally, Deaf people often put up with well-intentioned hearing people offering what they believe to be helpful guidance when, in fact, they are often offensive.  To wit:
  • Constantly being suggested that Deaf people are 'defective' and that they "should get a cochlear implant";
  • Frequently being told "I'm so sorry" when Deaf people inform hearing conversants that we are Deaf and cannot hear or need an interpreter, as if our deafness is a pitiable state;
  • Being referred to services printed out in Braille when we are Deaf, not blind;
  • Fighting with our schools of matriculation to enrol in a class that we are exempt from beacause "It's too hard for deaf people";
  • In some counties in the United States (I do not know about Canada), an audiogram proving our hearing loss is required periodically in order to maintain welfare assistance so as to 'prove' that we are 'still deaf.'
That's not all.  I know of a few Deaf people who, on account of their credentials, are unable to find jobs in their area of expertise precisely because of barriers to job interviews or the perceived 'threat' of a person so 'disabled' with impeccable or overachieved credentials.  A deafblind colleague of mine with a M.A. in mediaeval history (specialisation in 13th century English law with respect to disabled persons) has postponed his Ph.D. studies precisely because such an achievement vis-a-vis his disability has been advised to be too 'threatening' or 'confrontational.'

One need only recall episodes of America's Next Top Model to see how Mr Nyle DeMarco is often left out of the going-on in his house.

I could go on with more examples, but I trust the reader sees my point.

What is worth noting, however, is how Deaf Pride--that is what we call our self-identity and our activism--unfolds in our efforts at inclusion.  It begins with a very different understanding of 'inclusion' than what is generally taken by, for example, LGBT Pride.  We know, for example, that this is indeed 'a hearing world' and that expecting absolute symmetry of services offered to both deaf and hearing people is unrealistic.  We wish to be included, yes, but on the basis of not that we are 'the same as everybody else' but rather because we are in need of services that are the exception, not the norm.  This gives Deaf activism a very different trajectory by which we launch our efforts at equality and inclusion.  It begins with dialogue and education.

Now, I am not a sociologist.  I have never taken 'Deaf studies' courses--mainly because it would be slightly redundant as I myself am a Deaf person whose primary language is American Sign Language.  I lost my hearing at the age of 18 months due to a vaccination needed to fight off spinal meningitis.  As a result I lost not only my hearing, but also my motor functions and my language, both of which needed to be reacquired.  Since kindergarten, I have been in classrooms with other Deaf children; in high school and university I had a sign language interpreter.  In all three cycles of graduate schooling, I've had to rely on FM transmitter systems linked to my hearing-aide and rely on lipreading (because the youth of American Sign Language has not yet had the time to accommodate the intricacies of the language of philosophy and theology), and because I opted to be realistic that private schools simply cannot afford a sign language interpreter (although for my first Masters' thesis, a fellow-student kindly interpreted my thesis defence because one of the readers was present via teleconference).  Most of my observations are both anecdotal and, thanks to my long interaction with Camp Mark Seven--where many of the staff are Deaf studies majors from either Gallaudet University or Rochester Institute of Technology--these anecdotes are confirmed by conversations with these students (and professors, some of which serve on the Board of Directors of the Camp).

What the Stonewall Riots in 1969 were to gay liberation, similarly the 'Deaf President Now!' student walkout of Gallaudet University in 1988 was to Deaf Pride.  Frustrated with the 'paternalism' that Deaf people often experience at the hands of hearing people who believe themselves to be better caretakers of Deaf interests--which led initially to the election of a hearing person, Dr Elisabeth Zinser as the seventh president of Gallaudet University--the student population undertook a protest that shut down the University and barred access to the campus.  The grievance included demands that the board of trustees of the University have at least 51% d/Deaf representation.

The protest ended with the election of Dr I. King Jordan, Gallaudent's first Deaf president.  The 'Deaf President Now!' movement galvanised the public to Deaf needs, thanks to the efforts of many Deaf people who explained their position--especially through journalists who interviewed them.  The movement also set in motion a series of legal changes which led to the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990.

Not only am I a Deaf person, I am also a Deaf priest, so I have experiences that span both the 'Deaf world' as well as the 'ecclesiastical world.'  Thus I have firsthand and inside experience in the struggle for Deaf inclusion in the Church.  At one point, I sought to be included; now, I seek to include.  I am happy to note that the Archbishops of New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Los Angeles, among many others, have been wonderfully conscientious to include Deaf persons in the events of their respective local Churches.  The late John Cardinal O'Connor, for example, maintained the tradition of the ASL Deaf choir signing Silent Night, Holy Night at the Midnight Mass at St Patrick's Cathedral.  Both Los Angeles and San Francisco have standalone Deaf parishes.

In most places, however, the struggle to make aware our needs has been a story that is too frequently told and often expected.  Not a few Deaf people sense themselves to be the collateral damage to some dioceses' 'pet ministries' such as Hispanic or Native American outreach.  Many parishes refuse to hire a sign language interpreter for Deaf parishioners.  We are often relegated to the peripheries of parish life, reduced to having Mass in parish halls or at inconvenient times (4:00 Sundays, twice a month, for example).

Here is not the time to complain but to observe how Deaf people react to these experiences of being excluded:  Our preferred method of activism is one of education and awareness, seldom picketing or boycotting, and certainly not running a company out of business when non-Deaf-friendly services are being insisted upon.  Here, I think, is an important distinction that can be observed between 'LGBT Pride' and 'Deaf Pride'--our efforts at inclusion is primarily one brought about by discussion and dialogue, not imposition.  We do not harbour the mentality of habitually threatening an ADA-related lawsuit analogous to some LGBT groups threatening a Human Rights Commission lawsuit.  Lawsuits are filed on occasion, yes, but not with the same intensity that we see in many '#Equality' movements, and certainly not with the same intensity of vitriol.

Perhaps it is precisely because Deaf Pride grew out of an educational and intellectual milieu--'Deaf President Now!' at Gallaudet University.  But we realised, too, that our needs needed to be presented intelligibly, especially after the profoundly damaging consequences of the Milan Conference of 1880--when a contingent of hearing educators of deaf students sought to impose oralism and suppress sign language in schools.  When I was growing up, a nearby school district still had the policy of prohibiting sign language instruction because of the lingering effects of the Milan Conference.  Deaf Pride, Deaf activism, and even Deaf militancy (a very small contingent that does not hide its hostility to the larger hearing world), in my experience and according to my interactions with Deaf activists, has always relied on persuasion and convincing than by cutthroat legal manoeuvres.

(I should add that Deaf activism bears a certain resemblance to the Black civil rights movement sparked by Mrs Rosa Parks in terms of its intellectual unfolding--consider, for example, Revd Dr Martin Luther King's Letter From a Birmingham Jail--which I consider to be of greater consequence than his I Have A Dream speech.)

This is not to say that all LGBT activism has been cutthroat, not at all.  But within the last five years, if one takes her or his clue from national and local news, it does seem to be the case.  What is hoped, on the basis of the above observations, is that the method of activism of 'Deaf Pride' can provide a model for any 'equality' activism--reasoned, thoughtful, intelligent, and devoid of emotivism and heated exchanges.  Dialogue and debate that is healthy and governed by civil discourse and the rules of critical thinking holds the only promise for inclusion that is both just and legal.  This is inevitably going to involve not just many takes, but some gives, too.  Deaf Pride has begun to admit overstepped boundaries (e.g. the growing acceptance of cochlear implants over its stalwart opposition even twenty years ago by the majority of the Deaf community).

Equality is something too important to be conflated across the board for all interest groups.  It must be based more upon needs than upon wants, and it must be presented in intelligible dialogue.  It is based, if one is to maintain classical jurisprudence, upon the virtue of 'justice'--to give to each their due.  Otherwise we run the risk of a Nietzschean society of der Wille zer Macht that cannot end in anything but disaster.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

The Goodness of the Shepherd



As I had only one opportunity to verbally preach on Good Shepherd Sunday (which we Roman Christians celebrate every Fourth Sunday of Easter), and given the quintessentially 'Paschal' character of our Lord Jesus Christ's title as 'the Good Shepherd,' I decided to post it here.

            I remember as a kid, going to my grandmother’s funeral and hearing for the very first time the Twenty-Third Psalm or, as we Catholics call it—like all the Psalms—by its first words, Dominus pastor meus, “The Lord is my Shepherd…”  But I was always puzzled by that very first sentence, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”  I used to think, “That’s not very nice.  The Lord is my Shepherd, but we don’t want him?”  But, of course, the older meaning of ‘want’ is intended here, in the sense of ‘lack’ or ‘need.’  This Psalm is saying, really, “The Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing I lack.”
            The Fourth Sunday of Easter always commemorates ‘The Good Shepherd,’ one of the titles of Jesus.  But the insertion of ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’ during Eastertide has a specific function that the Church wants us to think about.  In the gospel, Jesus said of Himself, “I am the Good Shepherd” and He contrasts Himself with the hired hand who look after sheep who aren’t his own.  A hireling isn’t a shepherd, really; he’s just, well, someone from the temp agency.  Jesus, on the other hand, looks after His sheep, that is to say, you and me.  But that’s not all:  He refers to Himself as the ‘Good Shepherd.’
            So we have to ask ourselves, what makes Jesus a ‘Good’ Shepherd?  It is too superficial to say that Jesus is the ‘Good Shepherd’ just because He’s Jesus; the answer is found in the gospel itself and especially during the Easter Season.  It is found, more precisely, in a paradox about ‘Jesus-as-Shepherd’ that is, quintessentially, Easterly.
            I am the Good Shepherd, and I know Mine and My own know Me, just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father; and I will lay down My life for the sheep [Jn 10:14-15].  That’s the key.  That’s the paradox, right there.  Tthe paradox is this:  The Good Shepherd is, Himself, the Passover Lamb.  I hope you remember the Sequence of Easter Sunday:  “Christ the Lamb has saved the sheep / Christ the just one paid the price” [cbw iii, 690].  The paradox here is that the One who cares for the sheep is Himself the Lamb whose death saves the lives of the sheepfold:  The Lamb shepherds.
            Jesus often used metaphors to describe Himself; ‘Good Shepherd’ is one of them.  We know that He was actually a carpenter by trade, not a shepherd.  St John the Baptist metaphorically referred to Jesus as the Lamb of God.  We know that Jesus was a human being, the God-Man, not an animal that zoologists call ovis aries.  But the use of these metaphors about Jesus highlights something about Him.  Jesus is a Shepherd because He cares for the sheepfold—the Church by any other name—and he is Good because He is also the Passover Lamb whose death and resurrection saves the rest of the sheep from the wolf—that is to say, Satan, who is determined to drag us into hell with him.
            A shepherd is always a human being; sheep are sheep.  But the paradox of the ‘Good Shepherd,’ especially during Eastertide, emphasises even more the Mystery of the Incarnation, of the ‘God-with-us’ in that just as God became man to save women and men; the Shepherd is like the sacrificial lamb whose death and resurrection has brought God to pass-over our sins.
            Let’s take this one step further.  Jesus sacrificed Himself for us.  When we say “Jesus sacrificed,” we mean to say that Jesus is our Priest because priests, by definition, are people who make sacrifices.  And, in “Jesus scarified Himself for us,” when we say “sacrificed Himself,” we mean to say that Jesus is the sacrificial Victim—not just in the sense of being on the receiving end of violence but in the sense of being the sacrificial offering.  Priests offer victims—such as lambs as in the Old Testament.  But Jesus is the ‘Good Shepherd’ precisely because ‘Jesus sacrificed Himself for us’ which means, really, that Jesus is Priest and Victim, the sacrificer and the sacrifice.  Hence:  The Good Shepherd is the Passover Lamb.
            Which brings us to our final point and our conclusion.  I hope you’ve been to St Joseph's Cathedral Basilica recently.  In the Lady Chapel, where the Blessed Sacrament is reserved in the tabernacle, there is a new mosaic on the wall that shows a lamb holding a standard.  The lamb shows its pierced side and a flow of blood being poured into a chalice.  This is a very Easter symbol, the Passover Lamb who was slain but lives again.  In a few minutes, when we begin the Communion, I will be holding up the Host and say “Behold the Lamb of God; behold Him who takes away the sins of the world.”  ‘Host’ means ‘Victim’ in Latin.  In the Byzantine Church, the ‘Host’ is called, simply, ‘the Lamb.’  And it is here at this Table that we celebrate Easter every single time we gather, because we commemorate—we remember together—that we were born sheep in danger of sin, death, and hell, and that Jesus’ advent is like that of a shepherd becoming a sheep who allows himself to be devoured by the wolf so that the rest of us sheep would be spared.  But the Lamb who was devoured returned to life and in turn conquered the wolf—Satan—and his wolflings, sin, death, and damnation.  “This is My Body, which will be given up for you…This is the chalice of My Blood…which will be poured out for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.  Do this in memory of Me.”  That’s why we come to Eucharist—that is to say, Thanksgiving in Greek—because that’s all we’re left with:  Being thankful to the Passover Lamb whose death saves us from eternal death, whose resurrection has raised us all up.  Truly, there is nothing we lack.

            Glory to You, Lamb of God, Lord Jesus Christ!

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Believing in Jesus


I preached a homily at St Theresa's and St Mark's Community of the Deaf on the meaning of John 3:16 this past Lord's Day.  Many asked for copies of the homily so I am posting it here.
     I know that some Protestants have ‘hijacked’ John 3:16.  Remember that man who used to always hold up a sign with “John 3:16” on it and showed up at major televised sports events wearing a rainbow coloured clown wig?  He would stand in front of every camera shot at baseball games and golf tournaments, making weird faces and push his message.  His name is Rollen Stewart and we can thank him for our ambivalence towards John 3:16 especially because he’s in prison for taking a hotel housekeeper hostage in Los Angeles, threatening to shoot airplanes taking off and landing at LAX while taping Bible passages to his window.  He’s now serving three life sentences in California, but the damage was done.  John 3:16 has become, unfortunately, that ubiquitous but least favourite verse that everybody knows.  Today, I want to fix that.
     “For God so loved the world that he gave his Only-Begotten Son…”  What did Jesus mean when He said that God “gave” Him?  We say in the Stewardship Prayer, “the great gift of Jesus your Son.”  How did God “give” Jesus to us?
     God “gave” Jesus to us in three principal ways:  at Creation, at the Incarnation, and at the Cross.
     God gave us his Son in Creation by way of anticipation.  Hence “For God so loved the world…”  God created the universe, and us, as a ‘meeting place’ between himself and us.  The Church teaches that God created us in order that we may “to know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him for ever in heaven.”  Creation took place in anticipation for the human race’s encounter with the God-Man, Jesus Christ.
     With creation in place, and thus a ‘meeting-place’ between creatures and the Creator, God sent his Son as one of us, as a human being.  This we call the Incarnation, as we read in John 1:14, “and the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us.”  As Catholics we believe that the Incarnation was the first Christmas gift, when God gave  to us his Only-Begotten Son by uniting the Eternal Word with our human nature in the womb of the Virgin Mary, so that God the Son would speak to us in a human language, share our human experience, and even endure our human end, death.
     Finally, God gave us his Son even to the point of surrender at the Cross.  Why?  Jesus did for us what none of us could do for ourselves—Jesus gave His life perfectly, completely, and obediently to the Father, thereby ‘proving’ that He is a Son.  By our own sinfulness, on the other hand, we have irreparably withdrawn ourselves from God; our nature became so deformed that we were thus henceforth incapable of repairing our broken relationship with God.  God gave us, or rather gave up his Son to do for us what we were unable to do for ourselves:  making satisfaction and reparation for humanity’s offence against God, thereby meriting for us mercy, grace, and pardon.
     I cannot stress that last point enough.  The Church has gone so far as to excommunicate those Catholics who believe that you can be your own saviour.  “I’m going to heaven because I’m a good person.”  Wrong!  “I’m going to heaven because I’ve earned it.”  Wrong!
     So how, then, can we be qualified that we “may not perish but may have eternal life”?
     Jesus makes it clear, although the English Bible obfuscates it just a bit:  “so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life.”  What does it mean ‘to believe’ or ‘to have faith’—which in Greek is the same word?  It means, on one hand, to be devoted to Jesus; it also means to intellectually assent to the Truth that is Jesus.  The tense of the verb “believes” used by the gospel writer is in the present active tense, which means we believe and continue to believe and never relent in believing.  Hence St Paul writes in his Letter to the Romans, “from faith to faith.”
     There’s more.  At the beginning of John’s gospel, it says “But to all who received Him, to believed in His Name, He gave power to become children of God.”  But to adhere to Jesus already implies a package deal:  Jesus the Son points to the Father by His obedience; Jesus is the Christ points to the Holy Spirit who anointed Him.  So by adhering to Jesus, we automatically adhere to the Trinity.  This is why one of our lesser-known creeds, the Athanasian Creed says, “Whoever wishes to be saved must, above all keep the Catholic Faith.  For unless a person keeps this faith whole and entire, he will undoubtedly be lost for ever.  This is what the Catholic Faith teaches:  We worship one God in the Trinity, and the Trinity in unity…”  Remember what ‘Catholic’ means?—‘according to the whole.’  To follow Jesus is to take the package deal—everything Jesus teaches us, and just by believing in Jesus Christ the Son of God, we believe in the whole Godhead, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in Trinity.  To not believe, as Jesus unambiguously said, is to be “condemned already.”  Vladimir Lossky, a Russian Orthodox theologian, put it this way:  “Between the Trinity and hell, there lies no other choice.”
     God has given his Son to us, and therefore the whole Trinity, in Creation, in the Incarnation, and in the Cross.  God has given God’s self to us entirely.  This self-gift of God we call grace.  In Greek, the word for ‘grace’ is charis.  But charis, grace is freely given to us.  Free, why?  Because we can’t afford it.  So what is left for us to do?  We receive Him, by faith, that is to say, with adherence of mind and heart to Jesus.  And we cannot repay this costly, priceless, invaluable grace except in thanksgiving.  It’s interesting to note that the Greek word for ‘thanksgiving’ is eucharistein, where we get our word for ‘Eucharist.’  But look what’s hidden in the word eucharistein:  the word charis is hidden in the middle of it, because the only ‘repayment’ we can give for grace, if anything, is thanksgiving.
     Notice how Eucharist mirrors the gift of Jesus.  From Creation we harvest the wheat and the grapes to make bread and wine; this bread and wine, like the Incarnation, changes into the Body and Blood of Christ here at the Table.  And this table is where we celebrate the memorial of the Cross.  We’ve come full circle.
     We renew our faith here at this Table.  Listen to this prayer used in the Byzantine Liturgy just before the Communion:  “I believe, Lord, and profess that You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God, come to this world to save sinners, of whom I am the greatest.  I believe also that this is really Your spotless Body and that this is really Your precious Blood.  Wherefore, I pray to You: have mercy on me and pardon my offenses, the deliberate and the indeliberate, those committed in word and in deed, whether knowingly or inadvertently, and count me worthy to share without condemnation Your spotless Mysteries, for the remission of sins and for eternal life.  Amen.”

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Top Ten Evidence That Jesus Was Raised




What follows is the homily I preached this past Lord's Day, the III Sunday of Paschaltide, at Corpus Christi and St Theresa's Parishes.
     "My brothers, one can confidently say to you about the Patriarch David that he died and was buried, and his tomb is in our midst to this day."  This is St Peter speaking here, and he is making a comparison to the burial of Jesus.  "God raised Jesus; of this we are all witnesses!"
     Really, now?  I’ll bet there are fair few of you who might be a bit sceptical.  Jesus survived His own death?  He came back to life?  And we know this?  It’s a fair question.  Actually, no:  It’s the question.  Because if Christ was not resurrected, you and I are wasting our time with this Christianity business and we are suckers for history’s greatest hoax.
     This morning I’d like to present you with the Top Ten Evidences That Jesus Was Raised From The Dead.  Here we go.
     1.  The tomb of Jesus, which exists to this day, remains empty.  In Jerusalem, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre houses the original gravesite of Jesus Christ, but His body isn’t there.  I invite those who may be interested to read a groundbreaking article by the Biblical archaeologist Fr Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, The Argument for the Holy Sepulchre, available online.
     2.  No other tomb claims to have the body of Jesus.  The founders of the world’s religions all have identifiable tombs:  Mohammed, Siddhartha, Confucius, and so on.  Only Jesus’ tomb is both identifiable and empty.  What’s even more, Jesus’ opponents were partially convinced that the His empty tomb was a hoax, but have never been able to blow the whistle, so to speak, by producing His corpse.
     3.  The Easter-event was experienced by those indisposed to believe in any kind of resurrections.  In first-century Judaism, belief in the resurrection was only an obscure theory held by Pharisees, a lay movement within Judaism.  The Sadducees, who were the religious aristocracy tended to be somewhat rationalist on matters pertaining to the hereafter.  Ordinary folk, let alone fishermen-become-Apostles, when they listened to Jesus predicting His own Resurrection, it went right over their heads.  Being thus indisposed to believe in resurrections, it is highly, highly unlikely that they would have invented an Easter faerie-tale because it would have been too foreign to their way of thinking.
     4.  The Easter-event was proclaimed by those who experienced, it at great cost.  Almost nobody would believe in their own hoax and die for it, too.  But to those who witnessed the Risen Christ, the experience was so real and so palpable that they were willing to surrender their lives for it.  St Peter was crucified upside-down.  St Thomas was speared, branded, then burned.  St Bartholomew was skinned alive.  All of the Apostles—the Twelve and others—except one, were martyred.  St John was exiled to the isle of Patmos for his testimony.  If the Easter-event were a fabrication, you’d have a heck of a time trying to explain why the Apostles believed it to the point of gruesome execution.
     5.  None of the original followers of Jesus provided an alternative to the Easter-event.  We know that the Apostles did not always get along.  Yet they were consistent in their proclamation that Jesus resurrected.  Moreover—and listen to me carefully—if the Easter-event were a hoax, we would have to account for the fact that nobody, but nobody blew the whistle.  There is no early Christian leader, or sect for that matter, who said “Hold on, wait a minute.  The Easter story is a fake.  I’ll tell you where Jesus’ body is.  I’ll tell you what really happened.”  No-one, whether Jesus’ opponents or former followers, have been able to uncover any sort of ‘Easter conspiracy’—because there is none.
     6.  Nor were the original opponents of Jesus able to uncover the Easter-event as a fabrication.  A very curious absence in the historiography of our ‘elder bothers’—the Jewish people—is that very little is said beyond the fact that Jesus was crucified.  We possess nothing from the Sanhedrin—who condemned Jesus and who opposed the preaching of the Apostles—trying to falsify the Easter-event.  The absence of any alternative explanation whatsoever to the Easter-event speaks strongly for the truth that Jesus was resurrected.
     7.  The precise moment of the Resurrection was never recorded or described.  Another curious thing—if the Easter-event were a fabrication, then there would have been at least one storyteller describing, with grandiose imagery, what the Resurrection looked like:  How someone saw a blinding flash of light, the tomb-stone being rolled, and Jesus actually emerging gloriously from the tomb.  The absence of a predictable element in any false alibi—someone seeing someone somewhere and doing something—lends credibility to the Easter narrative.  If the Easter-event were a fabrication, there would have been at least one lying eyewitness, even more than one for the sake of corroborating testimony, but there isn’t.
     8.  The first witnesses to the Resurrection were women.  In Semitic jurisprudence, the testimony of women was inadmissible in court, let alone in culture enough to give a witness that triggered the rapid expansion of Christianity.  As one of the ‘Holy Myrrhbearing Women,’ St Mary Magdalene has the distinction of having the title of ‘Apostle to the Apostles’—and this woman, whose word shouldn’t count, had audacity enough to tell a bunch of coarse men that she met the Risen Christ.  The boldness of second-class people being the first to proclaim the Good News speaks to the truth of Jesus’ Resurrection.
     9.  St Paul ‘calls his own bluff’ on the veracity of Christ’s Resurrection.  He was ardently opposed to Christianity and was personally responsible for arresting and summarily executing Christians.  But on the way to Damascus to continue his genocide of Christians, St Paul met the risen Jesus and his life was changed.  He even goes so far as to say, “if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain.  …If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile.  …If for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied.”  But, he says, “in fact Christ has been raised from the dead.”  And what did he get out of all this?  A meagre income as a tentmaker, dangerous mission trips, and finally a beheading at Rome, but all for the simple truth that Christ is risen.
     10.  Only an historically supernatural event can account for the rapid expansion of Christianity.  That is pretty self-explanatory:  The very basis of Christianity’s validity lies in the first Easter, nothing else.
     My friends:  That is what makes us Christians; we believe that Jesus Christ was victorious over His own Death.   As Consuela the house maid from Family Guy would say,  “No…no…Mr Jesus no es here.”  Not only was Jesus rasied—past tense—but he is risen—present tense.  It is the quintessential, defining ‘thing’ of Christianity.
     And if Easter is true, then mediocrity, a mediocre life is out of the question.  By rising triumphant over sin and death, Jesus Christ has bestowed a newer, higher life on us, as a gift.  What’s left is for us to live Easterly, knowing that His Resurrection has renovated the universe—from the furthest galaxy to the tiniest atom.  Can we be content to live as before?