Ornaments needed!

Mom and Jane left this afternoon, so I didn't have time to even turn the computer on. (I keep it shut down for the Lord's Day.) Last night, Jane and I went ice skating in Millennium Park. That is, Jane went ice skating. I went mostly for an attempt to stay upright, which I managed. Afterwards, we took a walk along Michigan Avenue to see the Christmas decorations on the various flagship stores. Some were quite lovely. Others were conspicuous for their absence. Most engaging, to me, was the tree in front of the Tribune Tower, which was otherwise quite remarkably bare. (Maybe they are waiting for Advent?) A sign informs the passer-by that this is the "People's Tree": you can bring your own ornaments, leave them at the front desk of the Tribune building, and they will be added to the tree.
The "People's Tree" started out as a bit of a radio stunt, but it got "legs" as they say, and the official lighting will be tomorrow. With free chocolate and pizza. (I hope I get there on time!)
I think I will bring a religious ornament over. Maybe I'll even collect a few from our decorations (I'm not sure we have any inexpensive, weather-proof ornaments for sale downstairs in the bookstore) to make available to "people" who want to contribute something in witness to the "reason for the season" (hint: his name begins with J). Maybe I could make something, or use a permanent marker to add a message of some sort.
If you're coming to downtown Chicago for shopping for work, bring a real Christmas ornament for the People's Tree at the Tribune Tower! Or stop in here and see if I found any to share...

Hail to the King!

There are those who say that today's feast of Christ the King was dead at birth. It was instituted in 1925 as a kind of riposte to the claims of secularism and totalitarianism--but by 1925, what developed nation had a throne that really was a seat of government any more?
And yet...nature abhors a vacuum, and so does society. Absent ruling kings and queens, culture anointed new royalty, over new domains. Think Elvis. Think the "Camelot years" in the White House. Think Michael Jackson. Heck, you can even think "Prince" (if you really want to).
Are we hard-wired for royalty?
In "Jesus of Nazareth," Pope Benedict notes that "in the ancient Near East...the king refers to himself as a shepherd.... one could therefore say that, in view of its origins, [the] image of Christ the Good Shepherd is a Gospel of Christ the king, an image that sheds light upon the kingdom of Christ." "Of course, in the Old Testament God himself appears as the Shepherd of Israel."
So we really are hard-wired for royalty--not that of a tyrant-king quick to say "Off with their heads!"--but a Good Shepherd-King who lays down his life for his sheep.

It's fitting, isn't it, that today's feast of the Presentation of Mary now cedes to the Feast of Christ the King? Mary always leads us to her Son!
I was thinking about the feast of the Presentation, one of the few days on the liturgical calendar that owes its origin to an apocryphal story. I mean, the "Proto-evangelium of St. James" is pretty outlandish in parts, and the little story of the Blessed Virgin as little more than a toddler going to live in the Temple has no historical foundation whatever. If anything, it shows you how far the Christians had gone from their Jewish roots, and how early that happened (the book was written around 140-165 AD). On the other hand, this fanciful tale still teaches us something totally reliable, and does it through biblical allusion. Remember the story of three-year-old Samuel, presented at the temple of Shilo to be raised there by the priest, Eli? Samuel is the one who was roused from sleep by a voice in the temple calling him by name. And his answer could just as well have come from Mary's lips: "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening."

Living Stones

Once again, the first reading and the Gospel share a powerful connection. This time, it's the Temple itself. Both stories take place at the Temple of Jerusalem (the one place on earth where sacrifice could be offered to God), and both begin with a situation of desecration, which would tell you that ultimately both passages are about the rededication or re-consecration of God's house. Whereas the Maccabees were able, in their time, to carry out their plans to the full, the Gospel just gives us part one: Jesus, in a prophetic gesture, drives the merchants out of the Temple precincts and teaches there. The consecrating sacrifice comes later, though it is hinted at in the plans of the "leaders of the people who were seeking to put him to death."
Why is the Temple so important?
In the Old Testament, as well as in the New (especially the letter to the Hebrews and the book of Revelation), the Temple is a replica of God's real dwelling, Heaven. This is what the Mass presumes, too. In the early Church not just the catechumens, but also people doing public penance (and anyone who was not able to receive Communion) were all dismissed after the homily. You were entering a consecrated zone (a kind of transcendent non-geographic place): If we didn't get that message before then, the Sanctus would tell us as much: "Holy, Holy, Holy!" Just another way of insisting that (in the words of the Eastern liturgy) the "holy gifts" are for "the holy (consecrated) people."

War and Peace

The first reading and the Gospel for today's Mass as Ordinary Time winds down are both about war. 1st Maccabees gives us the Jewish equivalent of the "shot heard 'round the world" as the patriarch Mattathias makes the first move against an oppressive regime. The Gospel is more somber. Jesus prophesies a dreadful defeat, describing the siege of Jerusalem with such terrible accuracy that some scholars are convinced that the Gospel of Luke "had to" have been written after the fact.

Perhaps both moments hinge on what Jesus called "recognizing the time of visitation." For Mattathias, that visitation was inscribed in the covenant. To betray the covenant, as the king's officers were enjoining him to do, would be tantamount to denying God's ever-present fidelity. Mattathias and those "who were zealous for the Law" took refuge in the mountains, "leaving all their possessions behind in the city." From now on, the Lord would be their only possession.

Of course, the ultimate "visitation" of God's fidelity is Jesus himself, the same Jesus who will come again in a final visitation, after which "God will be all in all."

Bubbling over (the Chicago Way)

So I had coffee yesterday with a sidewalk counselor who spends her Saturdays outside of Planned Parenthood. She filled me in on how the bubble zone ordinance got pushed, I mean, passed, through the City Council. It seems that when it was proposed in committee, only two members voted in favor of it. (Most of the members simply voted "present.") But it still went to the full Council, which passed it. The entire process was introduced and wrapped up in just six days.
Wouldn't you love to see your city take care of other issues that quickly?

And today I got an email about a set of twins whose lives were saved one Saturday on that corner of LaSalle and Division. They were born Sunday, premature and in need of a good month or two in the hospital. Prayers, please, for the little boys and their mother, who was preparing for them to be adopted.

bubble trouble

They are attractive young residents of Chicago's "Near North": attorneys and other professionals, who frequent a clinic in their neighborhood, but once there, they've found themselves photographed and videotaped. They've had cigarette butts flicked at them, been spit at, been approached and had their conversations monitored by grim, agenda-driven witnesses. One even suffered a karate-style chop in the side while attempting to exercise rights guaranteed by the laws of this country.

But the pro-lifers don't want a bubble zone to protect themselves from these forms of harassment.

They just want to be free to greet people in a warm and respectful way and provide information they may not otherwise have access to: information about fetal development and patient rights, yes, but also about LINK cards and housing assistance and fathers' rights. Right now, they can only attempt that if someone passes directly by; they cannot take a step or two forward to offer it: that's what the bubble zone means.

If this ordinance achieves its goal of making it harder for pro-life counselors to approach people in a civilized way, I was told by one of the sidewalk counselors, their next move will be “visual speech” in what is called a “Face the Truth” effort. To me, those horrifyingly grisly photos of tiny severed hands and legs and tortured little heads constitute a form of visual violence. But this sort of “carpet bombing” (with massive collateral damage) may be the unanticipated effect of stifling people's ability to freely communicate on the street. After a while, Planned Parenthood itself may beg City Hall to pop the bubble zone ordinance they themselves proposed.

This post was written for the Chicago Tribune's blog, The Seeker.

A Charitable Dilemma

It's interesting (and, I hope, providential) that I prepared this post on the feast of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, my Confirmation saint and patroness of Catholic Charities...

I don't think this ever happened, but it's not impossible.

Imagine a genteel southern city in the 1950's.
A local Christian association has a long history of works of “charity.” What started out as a simple soup kitchen run from a church basement has long since developed into an array of programs in education, child care, job training, health and provisions for the needy. Since these services spare the government the burden of creating and administering new structures, the city approved an annual grant for a number of programs (in effect, off-loading to the church group some of the social services the city would otherwise have had to provide directly). At a certain point, however, the city fathers (weren't they all “fathers” back then?) felt that the times called for certain measures to protect the fabric of society. In the name of propriety and good civic order, the city council passed a bill mandating agencies in any kind of contractual relationship with the city to maintain racially segregated offices for their employees. Although the bill's name gave a nod to “religious freedom,” it did not include an exemption for religious organizations and individuals whose rights and beliefs might be compromised by observance of the new requirement.
Following passage of the bill, the church association sorrowfully announced a reduction of hours and programs in their service arms. Conforming to the city's stipulations, the official statement said, would imply acceptance of racism as a principle. This was contrary to their identity as an organization. With segregated offices a condition of city funding, they could no longer qualify for the grant that had supported many of their good works.
Mystified by the group's intransigence over an issue so (seemingly) peripheral to health, education and poverty, the city fathers sputtered about religious narrow-mindedness and about silly “philosophical differences” that shouldn't enter into the discussion. In their pique, they even accused the organization of holding the city hostage to arcane theological doctrines.

No, this probably didn't happen. At least, not in those exact terms.
Instead of a genteel southern city, think of Washington, DC. The social services (physical and mental health care, legal care, immigration, employment, counseling, shelter, education, foster care and services for the developmentally disabled) are provided by Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of Washington. The bill in question is the “Religious Freedom and Marriage Equality Amendment Act.” The stipulations of this gay marriage law bind any person or entity in a contractual relationship with the city. Failure to conform to all the requirements of the law leave one open to penalties and lawsuits. Despite its name, the bill includes only the narrowest provisions for religious freedom, limited to a short list of specific circumstances. Even the ACLU has weighed in to urge greater protection for religious freedom, in accord with federal law.

The Archdiocese of Washington is not a social service organization; it is a Church that expresses its identity in a vibrant way through its many social ministries. But that identity is a complete package: the “Catholic” in “Catholic Charities” means something! The District of Columbia is free to withhold funding for organizations whose character doesn't meet city criteria. People still need help. If Catholic Charities can no longer meet city criteria for contractual services, there is little that can be done other than regroup and try to find ways to do as much as possible with significantly fewer resources.

This post was originally written for the Chicago Tribune religion blog: http://newsblogs.chicagotribune.com/religion_theseeker/

For more information, please see the Archdiocese of Washington's news page: http://www.adw.org/news/News.asp?ID=702&Year=2009

Dark Days

We're starting to read from the first Book of Maccabees, a sure sign that "the end is near" for the Church year. The two books of Maccabees are among those books that you generally won't find in Protestant Bibles, but they are both valuable and interesting (Maccabees is where you look for some biblical justification for the doctrine of Purgatory, for instance, and for the story of the first Hanukkah.)
Today's first reading sets the stage for the whole Maccabean drama: the local king, Antiochus Epiphanes (Antiochus the Magnificent), known as Antiochus Epimanes (Antiochus the Madman) by his less appreciative subjects, decided to impose cultural uniformity upon his realm. No doubt, a uniform populace was easier to rule than a culturally diverse one. Since Antiochus, like other local rulers, was a descendant of Alexander the Great's officers, it was Greek culture that was to hold sway: Greek customs, Greek schooling, Greek gods took the place of local customs and religion.
It wasn't enough for Antiochus and his minions to impose merely external conformity to the new political correctness. The world's first religious persecution went to far as to outlaw observance of the Sabbath and to destroy religious books, desecrating Torah scrolls and condemning to death anyone who harbored the Scriptures. Antiochus even took over the Temple, installing a statue of Zeus (or would that be Jupiter? or even Baal, the "Lord of heaven"?) on the altar. It must have seemed like the end of the world.
In the Gospel, when speaking of the actual end of time, Jesus used the same language we find in this description of Antiochus' desecration of the Temple. We'll be hearing more of that dramatic language in the days to come.

Tomorrow will be the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time. You know what that means: next week is Christ the King--and after that, ADVENT! So expect to begin hearing some real "end times" passages in the liturgy for these final weeks of the Church Year. We actually had a hint of that in today's readings: the first reading from Wisdom was a dramatic and poetic rendering of the Exodus. The lovely Advent hymn, "Lo how a rose e're blooming" takes inspiration from this passage. According to the book of Wisdom, it was "when half-spent was the night" that God's Word/Wisdom "leapt down from the royal throne" to the "doomed land," carrying out judgment on the enemies of God's people and beginning a new creation.
Doesn't it seem like whenever "end times" are spoken of, the focus is almost always on death and destruction, rather than on a new creation? Yet the book of Revelation, for all the war and horsemen and bowls of wrath it contains, is really about the dawn of a new heavens and new earth.
That's really something to look forward to this Advent!

Clothes and the Man

As coverage of the Ft. Hood shootings continues, I find myself wondering less about Major Hasan's religion than about his clothing.
Let me explain. As someone who has worn a religious habit for over 20 years, I have had to reflect a lot on what this specific uniform means in itself, for me, and for the people I encounter or meet. Within Catholic circles, my habit identifies me as a member of a community called the Daughters of St. Paul, a community with its own history, spirituality and field of work. On the streets of Chicago, my habit identifies me as a full-time “Church lady” (although that means different things to different people). For myself personally, the habit is a practical expression of simplicity of life and a daily reminder that my life, like that of Jesus, is to be at the service of others. That's a lot of meaning riding on one set of clothing!
But the media have presented Major Hasan in two distinctive uniforms: that of the U.S. Army, and the habit-like Middle-Eastern clothing he is seen wearing in a convenience store video. Each of those uniforms says something about the wearer's values, beliefs and relationships. I haven't heard otherwise, but, it's hard to imagine that Major Hasan wore Middle-Eastern styles growing up in southwestern Virginia. I was in Dearborn, Michigan last week; this city has the highest concentration of Muslims in the entire US, and while I saw many women in headscarves, I didn't see a single man in a flowing tunic.
Clothes don't make the man (nor the habit the monk), but knowing the circumstances under which this American military officer began to don the vestments of Middle-Eastern culture might help us better understand what was going on that day in Ft. Hood.

This post was originally written for the Chicago Tribune's Religion blog.