Birth Story

(During my pregnancy, I became quite fond of reading and hearing my friend’s birth stories. Ours was not as eventful, but it is always nice to recall and share one of the most important and joyful events in your life. Enjoy!)

Short Version: Despite of months of training and preparing to have our Bradley birth, our baby turned out to be breech. We could not get him turned naturally before my water broke and he decided to come and join us. I had an emergency c-section, but we are just glad to have a happy and healthy baby boy!

• Thursday — September 30th, 2010

We had our 38-week prenatal appointment with our midwife. She checked the position of the baby and she was not able to feel his head in my pelvis. In order to be sure we could have a natural birth at home, she needed to have his presentation confirmed. Since I was already full-term (i.e. past 37 weeks), we scheduled an ultrasound that same afternoon. The ultrasound quickly confirmed that he was indeed breech–his feet were down and head was up toward my chest. My husband and I were “devastated” in that this could mean that we could not have a natural birth either at home or at a hospital, because the risks were too great with a vaginal delivery. Our midwife received a call from the radiologist with the news and she quickly scheduled a external cephalic version (ECV) with one of the OB/GYNs that works with her to turn the baby head down and attempt a vaginal delivery. The OB/GYN could not see me the next day (Friday), so we scheduled the ECV for Monday at 1:30 pm.

My midwife told me of exercises I could do at home in the meantime to get him turned. I started doing them religiously that same evening with the help of my husband.

Book Review: The Catholic Worker Movement – Intellectual and Spiritual Origins by Mark and Louise Zwick

(My husband showed me this book in a half-price bookstore a couple of years ago and after reading it my life has never been the same. This book introduced me to the Catholic Worker movement, which I barely knew beforehand. It now stands as the first of many books I have read about the movement and the cause for many long conversations between my husband and I about how we understand and try to live out our faith. Since reading the book, we have had the pleasure to meet the authors, Mark and Louise Zwick, founders of the Houston Catholic Worker [Casa Juan Diego] and who day after day, without a break, perform the corporal works of mercy that Day and Maurin emphasized so much.)

Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin Misunderstood

Known by many only as a secular activist or as a Communist by her strongest opponents, Dorothy Day was far from being either one. In fact, during their lifetime, Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, the founders of the Catholic Worker Movement, fiercely opposed Communism, because its ideologies hurt the dignity of the human person and did not uphold the inalienable rights of all human beings that they strongly fought for. They did not like to be called conservatives or liberals, as they believed that the values that they stood up for were simply Catholic, and therefore, true. Dorothy Day and Peter Maurin, were and are still considered as radicals, which they did not mind, because to them Radicalism “meant getting down to the roots.”

Many know about her abortion or her participation in radical secular movements, but only few know about her devotion to the saints, daily Mass, and the Divine Office. Dorothy explains how she explained to communists her conversion to Catholicism:

“I had a conversation with John Spivak, the Communist writer, a few years ago and he said to me, ‘How can you believe? How can you believe in the Immaculate Conception, in the Virgin birth, in the Ressurection?’ I could only say that I believe in the Roman Catholic Church and all She teaches.I have accepted her authority with my whole heart.”

Christ and Inter-Religious Dialogue

This speech was given to the Aresty Research Symposium in Rutgers, Spring 2008.

Ever since the beginning of Christianity, one of the main problems was evangelization. How were Christians supposed to propose what they call the “gospel,” the “good news” to all people as Jesus commanded them to (Matt. 28: 19-20)? Most of Jesus’ disciples were practicing Jews, that is, they had the same presuppositions and worldview that Jesus had. Yet, they were called to proclaim the good news not simply to the Jews but to the Gentiles, those who had different worldviews than they. We see examples of this when they had to debate whether Gentiles had to be circumcised and follow the Mosaic law in order to be part of the Church, the people of God (Acts 15; Romans 2-6). The early Church decided not to impose some aspects of Judaism to the Gentiles and yet proclaimed the necessity of Jesus Christ as the only savior. Today, the Catholic Church faces the same problem as the early Church. With so many cultures and religions today, she faces the difficult task of presenting the gospel in a non-imposing way while at the same time proposing an essential element in human life: relationship with Christ. Can the Catholic Church propose the necessity of Jesus Christ while at the same time be tolerant of other religions?

Christ as the Fulfillment of Human Life

The then-Cardinal Ratzinger, now Pope Benedict XVI, in his homily to the College of Cardinals in the Mass for the election of a new pope, said that we are “moving towards a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goal [in] one’s own ego and one’s own desires.” The Catholic Church, however, proposes that she can know for certain that in Jesus of Nazareth, there is “the full and complete revelation of the salvific mystery of God.”[1] She cannot accept a religious relativism which teaches that each religion in their own independent way is a path to God, and that the revelation of God given by Christ is incomplete and that other religions are complementary to his revelation.[2] Accepting such an idea would be destroying her understanding of who Jesus is. According to the Church, Jesus of Nazareth is the Incarnate Word of God (Jn. 1:14) in whom the fullness of Yahweh dwells (Col. 1:19; Rom 9:4-5). He is the definitive and final revelation of God simply because he is God; there is nothing more to add because God himself has shown himself in person. In Christ we find God’s triune tenderness to humanity and all of creation, which is fully expressed in his dying and rising from the dead.[3] As Karl Rahner said,

Worship is Freedom

The setting is first century second Temple Judaism. It is hard to fully describe the worldview of second Temple Judaism because it was pluralistic. We know that there were many eschatological movements and it is safe to say that “eschatology” in that time meant a restoration of Israel and the cosmos under the one God. For example, the Qumran community believed that they were the true Israel which God would vindicate. In the end, there will be a battle between good and evil, those who walk the ways of righteousness and those who walk in the ways of Belial, the ways of darkness, and God will destroy darkness, “destroy it forever” (1QS ch.4). Those who followed evil were not simply the Romans, but the Jews associated with the Temple. The Temple, they believed, was plagued by Hellenistic influences which they saw as evil. This anti-Hellenistic mentality is also seen in the Book of Jubilees (which is also found in the Dead Sea Scrolls) where even the angels in heaven have the Torah, that which distinguishes Israel from others. The earth reflects heaven and since the angels in heaven worship and follow the Torah, so too the people on earth must do the same (15:28-30). Doing the works of the law is what distinguishes the Jew from the Gentile, those who have false gods. For example, after retelling the story of the fall of Adam and Eve, it says, “[I]t is prescribed on the heavenly tablets as touching all those who know the judgment of the law, that they should cover their shame, and should not uncover themselves as the Gentiles uncover themselves” (3:31-32). Following the Torah is what made Jews righteous in the sight of God and others unrighteous in His sight. They believed that those who follow the Torah properly will be vindicated by God. N.T. Wright in summarizing second temple Judaism says, “Many if not most second-Temple Jews, then, hoped for the new exodus, seen as the final return from exile. The story would reach its climax; the great battle would be fought; Israel would truly ‘return’ to her land, saved and free; YHWH would return to Zion” (Jesus and the Victory of God, Fortress Press 1996, pg. 203). Wright is probably right that many believed that they were in exile. What kind of exile they were in is tougher to pin-point. Some may argue that they believed they were still under the Assyrian exile (B. Pitre). Whatever exile they thought they were in, the fact is that they were unable to do something appropriate. It was a lack of freedom to adhere and act the way they were supposed to. Freedom, then, was never thought of as doing as one pleases, but doing what one ought to do. The Qumran community thought that they were not free because the Jews in the Temple have corrupted and violated the Torah.

Musings on Tragedy

To Louis Feliciano

All tragedies leave us in awe. No other being in the world except man is affected by such events, whether they are natural disasters or moral evils. Tragedy reminds us our place in this world, that death is not something we can control. It reminds us of our own solitude in front of such situations.

What affects us most about tragedies is that there is a silence, and maybe even an absence, that makes us tremble, a fear-provoking silence that gives us a sense of powerlessness to give answers to ourselves and to each other. It is a silence which makes us realize that we are in the midst of absolute mystery. It is a silence which provokes an unquiet longing in our hearts to beg for someone to speak, to beg for a voice, for an answer.

In the midst of tragedies, this longing cannot be neglected. It moves us not to run away from questions but to struggle to find answers, to find love even in a situation that is, in the truest sense of the word, ugly. It is a longing to find even the smallest drop of beauty, a beauty that might echo a voice we desire to hear. This longing to find love, to listen to an echo, is what makes tragedy a drama. Tragedy does not make us incapable of finding love. And that is why it is not hopeless. Hopelessness comes about only when love can no longer penetrate into our hearts.

Tragedy becomes a drama when we struggle to find beauty in its midst. But this longing to find beauty is in itself insufficient. Beauty is not what we ultimately long for. We may be passionate and enthusiastic about the beautiful, but we cannot love it. Beauty is not something we can give ourselves to. It is itself a sign that points to an unspeakable face that moves us to be enthralled. In the end of it all, it is not beauty that we desire. What we desire, what makes our hearts unquiet, what we find in ourselves when we look deeply into our tender affectivity, is a Father. It is His embrace that we seek. It is His Voice that we long to hear. It is the experience of His absence which makes us fear and tremble.

On Mortification and the Church

Being a gift to Christ means to give him what we value most: life. What destroys life, what makes it ugly, is sin. It is ugly because it destroys a friendship, it destroys the relationship with the people you love. Friends give you the certainty that you are loved and you cannot help but love them back. To love them back properly, you must love and know yourself so that you can properly give them what they deserve: your heart. Sin, first of all, destroys the ability to love and know yourself properly. And since you cannot love your friend unless you first love yourself (“love one another as you love yourself”), then you cannot love your friend the way he ought to.

Sin also breaks the source which binds you together. When a person is in sin (mortal sin), he reduces his relationship with his friend to mere gestures and to their own intentions. We all know how reducing friendship to mere joyful gatherings and laughter will soon break down. If the basis of friendship is simply that you enjoy being with the other, then you will soon find out how easy this friendship will end. There will be a day when someone will be in a bad mood and things will be said that is not meant to be said. Next thing you know, you have not been in contact for a couple of years. There must be a reason, a reason that lasts, that keeps you coming back to the other. The basis of friendship cannot be yours or the other’s intentions. You know how fragile both of you are. What is important is to understand that the other is not your friend because you somehow chose him or her. You have a relationship with your friend because Someone gave him or her to you. Your friend reminds you of your Destiny, keeps the thought of Christ in your heart, and moves with you towards Him. What sustains your friendship is Christ. Break this relationship with Christ and your friendship will not last. This is why sin is ugly. It ruins the relationship you have with your friends, that is, the Church. This is why you cannot receive the Eucharist unless you are in good standing with Christ. You cannot receive the Eucharist because you have broken the bond between you and your friends.

Recommended summer reads for Catholic women (and men too)

Here are some excellent books I have either read or am currently reading this summer and thought of recommending them to our readers:

1. Elisabeth Leseur: Selected Writings–Elisabeth was a lay French woman married to a staunch agnostic living in the late 19th century and first decade of the 20th century. Her husband, Félix, returned to the Catholic Church after Elisabeth’s death and became a Dominican priest years later. Elisabeth’s journal and practical resolutions stand as a great example for lay Catholic women who want to bring Christ to their homes. She was deeply affected by the social teachings of Leo XIII, which prompted her to reflect on the social issues of the time and what should be the proper Christian response to them. She was well ahead of their time with a deep understanding of the lay apostolate that would not surface officially in the Church until the Second Vatican Council. Elisabeth’s cause for canonization was opened Servant of God. The book I have linked to is from the Classics of Western Spirituality that has several of her writings, but if you want just her journal, you can find some cheap editions here. There are also some other good writings by her that you can find in Amazon. I will be posting on her life and spirituality sometime in the next few days in case you are curious to know more about her.

2. Christ in the Home by Raoul Plus, SJ–I found this book by accident on Amazon and I have incorporated it as part of my marriage preparation. Fr. Plus talks beautifully about the engaged couple, the nuptial Mass, the newly wed couple and life after “the wedding.” He has a lot of practical advice and spiritual direction for the married couple at any stage of their marriage as to how to bring Christ into the home.

3. Women in the Gospels by Carlo Cardinal Martini–Only for less than $3.00 in Amazon: these are talks by the Cardinal given to a group of thousands of religious women from his diocese. These are reflections drawn from Gospel scenes that intend to reflect on one’s vocation based on the response by the women in the Gospels to certain situations. The reflections are very Marian in nature, which has allowed me to gain a deeper appreciation of Mary and her motherhood of the world. Strongly recommended for both men and women.

Any other recommendations?

The Mass: On Silence

To Peggy Mereles

 

On the topic of silence, the story of Christ and the woman caught in adultery can educate us (Jn. 8:2-11). The scribes and the Pharisees were trying to test Jesus and brought forth a woman who was caught in adultery. The Jewish leaders argued that the Mosaic Law teaches that they must stone this woman. It actually prescribes that both the man and the woman be persecuted, but for some reason, they only threw the woman at Christ. We also wonder how they actually found out about this adulterous act. Did they know this woman before? Were they guilty of adultery with this woman themselves? We don’t know. They threw her down near Christ and Christ was silent. He was silent because he knew what the woman did. We can only imagine with adoration and contrition the grief that took place in the heart of Christ. He bent down. The eyes of the Jewish leaders and the woman widened. Was he going to pick up the first stone? He bent down. What was he to do? The woman must have had her heart beating really fast. He began to write on the ground with his finger. The Jewish leaders began to become impatient. They kept insisting him to do something. Then, the miraculous happened. It was miraculous because at this moment, we understand not only Christ’s compassion for this woman and her humanity, but also that in his words, we understand the way God looks at us. He said, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And he then bent down and wrote on the ground. “My heart is overwhelmed, my pity is stirred. I will not give vent to my blazing anger, I will not destroy Ephraim again; For I am God and not man, the Holy One present among you; I will not let the flames consume you,” says the Old Testament. In this story, we recognize the concreteness of these words. Continuing with the story, they all left one by one. He stood up and looked at the woman. The woman has never experienced this look before. He looked at her as if her sin did not even matter. The woman’s heart dropped. She knew what she did was wrong. She could not find the words to apologize. Yet, Christ looked at her as if saying, “So?” In her sinfulness, he looks at her with, “So what?” It is as if sin did not overcome this man, as if it is nothing compared to him, as if sin does not change the way he looks at her. He then asked her whether she was condemned. She said, in a humble and silent way, “No one, sir.” At that moment, looking at Christ, her whole destiny is revealed, her whole humanity is discovered. At that moment, that moment of Christ and her alone, she understood her place in history. He then said, “Neither do I condemn you.” If there was a person to condemn her, she knew it was this man. Yet, at that moment, that moment of silence when no one was condemning her, when no one was defining who she was, she was not condemned. She did not say, “I am sorry.” She did not even utter a word because at the moment when you are in contact with reality in all your greatness and weaknesses, you can only be silent. Silent because what can you really say or do to undo the harm you have done to yourself? Silent because what words can excuse your fragility? Silent because an experience of reality is an experience of that look that taught you to have compassion for yourself.

The Mass: Part 2

To Peggy Mereles

“Father, they are your gift to me,” says Christ. How are we a gift to Christ? This means that we are given to Christ from the Father. But how exactly are we given? In theological terms, this is called election. It is being possessed by God. We are possessed by the Father by His sending His only Son (Jn. 3:16). The Incarnation is how we have become the Son’s, that is, that we become his gift. The fact that the Father made us Christ’s gift (“Father, they are your gift to me”) coincides with the gift of the Father’s sending His Son to the world (“For just as the Father has life in himself, so also he gave to his Son the possession of life in himself”). In the Incarnation, we understand what it really means that we are a gift to Christ, that we are a gift insofar as the Son is a gift to the world. We are given like the way the Son proceeds from the Father. It is in this way that we understand we are truly the image of God, that our existence as a gift reflects the Word, the Son who proceeds from the Father. This understanding comes especially with the economic plan of the Father who gives us His Son. Our election, our existence as a gift to the Son, comes from the predestination of Christ. We can only be a gift insofar as we participate in the election of Christ. This is a commonsensical view since we are a gift insofar as we are in Christ, insofar as we are possessed by Christ.

The Mass

 

To Peggy Mereles

One of the main problems with Catholics today is not that they do not understand the Mass, but that they seem to limit their spiritual life in it. How do we extend our experiences of the Mass to our workplace, our homes, and our schools? We hear over and over again in homilies that the end of the Mass commands us to “Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord.” We are reminded by Hans Urs von Balthasar that “God only shows himself to someone, only enraptures him, in order to commission him.” Yet, it seems that we simply cannot get over our dualistic mentality that Christ is in one place and not in the other. We forget what just happened on Sunday morning. This is unacceptable but God is generous enough to give us the time we need so that we can see that Christ is everything in our lives. Time is grace and the more time we have, the more we have the opportunity to grow in our certainty of our destiny, of Christ. What is important is to understand what really happens in Mass and to understand the reason why we go in the first place. This way, when we have certainty on why we go to Mass, we will understand that Christ really is everything. If we limit Christ to the Mass, if Christ does not affect our lives completely, then we might as well sleep in on Sunday morning.

I was at a Bible study and I gave the story of an old priest, Msgr. Luigi Giussani, who was so old and so sick at his age that he could not go to the bathroom alone. He needed help in order to go to the bathroom. At this point, he understood that everything really is given, that everything is a gift. Everyone, as I assumed, laughed at that story. I did too. How the heck did this old priest make Christianity out of a bathroom? Then, when we were continuing with the study, a friend of mine went to the bathroom. He came back and said, “Thanks to you Apolonio I will never go to the bathroom the same again. It felt awkward.” Everyone laughed, including me, but at that moment, I realized how amazing Christianity really is. My friend peeing has meaning because of Christ. The meaning of urination is Christ! It sounds absurd, but if this is not true, then I cannot believe my own eyes. If this is not true, then I should not be a Christian.

A Talk on Marriage Part 2

Here is the second part.

What makes you certain that the other person loves you? What makes you certain that there is no one like your beloved? Certainly something attracted you to her, maybe her looks and her personality. Love comes about from beauty. The more you spent your time with her the more you started to really like her. You started to, well, kinda adore her. This is actually the seed of veneration of the saints, being attracted to beauty. And sainthood is the beautiful life. If you kept on wanting to know the other person, you will find out the source of her beauty. That, again, is the start of veneration of the saints. It is not that you worship a human being, but you realize that Christ coincides with this person, that the Incarnation is true. So you started adoring her. But just like venerating the saints, to put the source of beauty, the source of greatness, in her, in a human being, is to make an idol. You have reduced your desires because you think your heart can rest on the finite, thinking that the other person has the answer to your heart. That is, however, the last thing you should do. You should never reduce the desires of your heart. Being with the person you love should always, always, always, make you want more, make your heart restless. That’s really the reason why there are many cases of pre-marital sex these days. They want more from the person, more from life. Yet, there is something wrong with this. The restlessness of the heart comes about from a judgment about reality, not imposing your own will or utopia to the world. It comes from understanding the depth of the other, loving her destiny. I was once asked by a girl what she should do when her boyfriend wants to have sex and tells her that if she does not do so, it is because she does not love him back. That’s a bit weird if you ask me, but I do have sympathy since the boyfriend does want to be loved. It’s just that he has a wrong conception of love. I answered her this way. Look, it is good that he wants to possess you. However, possessing you means affirming the truth of your person, your destiny. The fact is, you are not his. There is only one way that he can possess you, that you can be his. It is by loving your Destiny, destiny with a capital D. It is by loving you in Christ. That’s the only way that you can be his. The fact that he wants to possess you without Christ should make you vomit. You cannot be loved apart from Christ because anything that lacks Christ will pass away. What you need is a love that lasts forever. So you should say “no” because the only way you can love him is to love him in Christ, in loving his destiny.

A Talk on Marriage Part 1

I gave a talk on marriage without anything written. To my surprise, someone wrote down what I said. Here is part 1 of the text. I did not touch anything and you will probably find many grammatical mistakes, but this is how the talk came about.

It is a great temptation to think that we can know what marriage is from books, even if they are from great men like John Paul the Great. A person can quote the Catechism on marriage and still falls short of a true understanding of it. The reason why marriages are not doing so well these days is that people simply do not know what marriage is. They look at marriage from an abstract point of view. Because people do not know what it is from a concrete point of view, they have problems. Those who are faithful to each other, however, know that they will always have problems but they will never become obstacles to each other. This is because marriage is never complete here on earth. Christ did say that there will be no husbands and wives in heaven. By that he meant that there is no human love in heaven, only divine love, perfected human love. But why is it that problems do not become obstacles? It is at this point that I want to stress out my first thesis on marriage: it is a mystery.

Musings on Eternal Love

Last week I went to the nursing home for the last time. I have been volunteering there for three years and I have always found myself experiencing a silent joy that no one can take away from me. I have always thought of volunteering there as bringing Christ to them. But most of the time, I found myself finding Christ there; they brought Christ to me. Or rather, Christ brought them to me. Christ for me is a concrete presence because once the word “Christ” comes in my head, I can remember the faces of the people He gave me in that nursing home. On my last day, I remember seeing one of the women there crying as she told me she was going to miss me. Why would Christ allow me to leave them? Why would Christ allow me to fall in love with him for three years in that place and then simply call me out of that place? This is one of the most dreadful experiences we have: that we lose the people we love, that love does not last. We find ourselves in skepticism, in fear, and in sadness because it seems that love does not last forever. And yet, if I judged my experience correctly, then the fact that I experienced that incredible joy in serving the elderly for three years should be a promise that there is more to come. I can leave them because I can see that love is not reduced to being physically with them. Love is He who put those people in my life. What really happened in those three years? Who gave them to me? These are the questions that must be asked and answered or else reality becomes superficial and we only see the surface of love. To fall in love with Christ is not infatuation. It is a desire to be with Him, to stay with Him, to gaze and embrace Him, forever. Love has the intent of duration. It means to intend to live in whatever situation I am put in and not simply passively receive it, but to embrace and acknowledge His Presence no matter how terrible it may be. Here we begin to see what love entails: loving His absolute freedom. To embrace His freedom is to embrace the possibilities of living. Our capacities, our love, what we can become, are based on His freedom. And because His freedom is infinite, we can become infinite. It is in loving His freedom, a freedom that you can trust, that we begin to love.

My experience with the nursing home reminds me of a story we hear in the Gospel, the story about Jesus and the widow in Nain. Jesus and his followers were walking towards a city called Nain. There was a large crowd walking with him because they did not want to leave him. They found this man to be exceptional, someone who corresponded to their hearts. They stayed with him and wanted to see and listen to him more and more. While they were walking, Jesus saw a silent crowd. It was a crowd carrying a coffin. There was silence in the crowd because silent awe was the only proper response to a tragedy. This was not the first time Jesus saw a coffin nor was it the first time he saw a crowd mourning for a dead man. Yet, there was something that struck him. He saw a woman weeping. She was a widow and the mother of the dead man. We can only imagine in adoration and reverence what Christ must have experienced in his heart. His stomach must have dropped and he probably got a lump in his throat just by looking at this poor woman. Crying for her son was probably not the first time she cried those tears since she lost her husband early on. In the heart of that mother, she was probably crying, “When does this end? Have I not suffered enough in my life?” Here was her dead son, the son that she loved with an impossible love, and she found herself alone. There was a crowd with her but she still found herself helpless and powerless. Jesus went up to this woman and looked intently in those motherly eyes and said, “Do not weep.” He told the dead man to rise and gave him directly to his mother. The crowd was in awe after this event, after this encounter. They said, “God has visited his people.” Christ brought God, a love that lasts forever. Even the motherly love of that widow could not bring her son back to life. Human love is insufficient. She needed Christ because only in Christ can she experience motherhood in a new and surprising way. Only in Christ can she become a mother forever. In this miracle, the widow can now believe that love does not end, that there is not one day that God does not care about her. That is the certainty of faith: that the Incarnation, the gravity of love, shatters whatever is sinful and evil in creation, and makes what is true, good, and beautiful last.

Trinity Sunday: Understanding the Triune God

It is that time of the year again: Trinity Sunday. As my seminary professor admits, it is a day that many young priests simply do not look forward to, because they have to give a homily about “three in one and one in three”! How can one condense a mystery of our faith in a 12-minute homily? Our modern way of thinking prevents us from being comfortable with merely accepting something as a fact without any evidence. We live in a scientific world where all claims made have to be accompanied by empirical or rational demonstrations that meticulously prove their existence. It is important for us to understand that the Trinity has been and will remain a mystery of faith and that it is our outlook on the Trinity that can aid us in making this mystery relevant in our everyday lives.

 

Charity and the Trinity – Families as “little trinities”   

  

Let us approach the subject of the Trinity by talking about love, or more appropriately, agape or charity: Christian love. When we start talking about the Trinity, we are really delving into the mystery of who God is. Perhaps we can start with Sacred Scriptures, since the first letter of Saint John tells us that God Himself is love (4:8). Let us follow the epistle with what the medieval theologian Richard of St. Victor had to say about love:  

“No one is properly said to have charity on the basis of his own private love of himself. And so it is necessary for love to be directed toward another for it to be charity.” [1] 

 

Let us look at the love existing between married couples as an example. It cannot be said that love exists in a marriage if one of the spouses only loves himself or herself. Rather, we come to the conclusion that true love exists in a marriage when the love is mutual or reciprocal—in other words, when both spouses constantly give of themselves to the other for the sake of their love for one another. Although the spouses share commonly in the marital love, they still retain their individual identities and their roles also remain distinct from one another: the husband remains a male in nature and the protector of the household while the wife remains a female and the caregiver. On the other hand, we also know that one of the primary functions, so to speak, of marriage is to bring new life to the world. Hence, marital love cannot exist if it is self-contained—the love between husband and wife becomes richer when it is poured out in their children. This is what we mean when we say that children are the fruit of the love of their parents. When children are born, they enter into the mutual love of their parents and participate in it yet they remain distinct individuals with their different personalities and tastes. In this manner, there is one love that unites the parents and their children yet there are three distinct persons (mother, father and children) that participate in that common bond. 

   

With this example, we can start to see how we can use the concept of love that exists in the family to understand the dogma of the Trinity. Augustine said that “If you see charity, you see the Trinity.” [2] Augustine also believed that the Trinity was indeed a mystery and that we were not going to fully understand it in this life; however, he still thought that we could find analogies for the Trinity in our lives by finding traces or vestiges of it in creation, because man is made in the image of God (Gen 1:27). Hence, we can use the family as an analogy for the Trinity, but at the same time we have to be careful. Because it is an analogy it has its own limitations in providing us with a true understanding of the Trinity, and that the reality of God will still remain a mystery of our faith.  

  

If we take the words of Augustine as our starting point, then we should be able to “see” the Trinity in the love that exists within a family. As mentioned above, all three persons in a family—mother, father and child—share in one love and yet the three persons remain distinct from one another with different roles and personalities. We can also carefully apply this understanding to the Trinity. In the Trinity, there is one God and three different persons with different roles. It is the infinitely reciprocal love that exists within the Trinity that keeps the three divine persons together. At the same time, each person of the Trinity has a distinct role or mission. The Father sent the Son to reveal Himself to the world (Jn 20:21) and the Son left us the Advocate or the Holy Spirit (Jn 14:16) before He returned to the Father.  

  

It is important to remember the Trinity in terms of relationship. Just as the words “mother”, “father” or “child” in themselves imply relationships (a mother or father cannot be understood without a child and viceversa) the three divine persons—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—cannot be grasped when taken out of context of their relationships to one another. The Father loves the Son and the Son loves His Father and the Holy Spirit is the love—the common bond—that unites the Father and the Son. The Holy Spirit is the fruit of the reciprocal and infinite love that the Father and the Son share in common.  

 

 

True Images: Our Participation in the Trinity 

  

What about the times when we cannot see love in a family? Can we always see the Trinity in family love? Perhaps not. This is why it is of utter importance to restore the true meaning of marital love and family relationships in a world where, for the most part, motherhood and fatherhood has been reduced to a mere biological accident. We also have to restore friendships and human relationships in general and ensure they remain true, sincere and just instead of being false and filled with greed and hidden interests. As the then-Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger said in one of his essays, “If God does not reflect Himself in his image, then He cannot be thought of.” [3] We have to conduct ourselves in a way that others can think of God when they meet us. Our relationships with others have to serve as windows for others to see and come to know God through them. If we truly live as we were meant to live by our Creator, as made in his image, then we will reflect Him everywhere we go, and we will show to the world that God is alive and present everywhere. In this way, we will be the true images of a God Who is far from being abstract or isolated, and we will reflect instead a God who is familiar and is relational and even calls us “friends” (Jn 15:15). When our relationships are governed by charity, we will also make known a God who is Himself love (1 Jn 4:8) and Who is, accordingly, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It is through love—charitable reason rather than scientific reason— that Christians can make the triune God known to the world.  

_____________________________________________________

[1] Richard of St. Victor, De Trinitate in Richard of St. Victor: The Book of the Patriarchs, The Mystical Ark, and Book Three of the Trinity, trans. Grover A. Zinn (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), III.2.

[2] Augustine, De Trinitate, VIII.5.12.

[3] Joseph Ratzinger, El Dios de los Cristianos: Meditaciones, (Salamanca: Ediciones Sígueme, 2005), 30 (translation mine).

Reflections on Jesus’ Prayer

“Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ.”

“Eternal life”—what do these words mean? It is the life that we want. All of us had some experiences of fulfillment, events that made us happy and free, experiences that gave us recognition of our absolute worth. They were experiences that told us that life makes sense. It could be throwing a touchdown pass, spending time with your friends on the beach, being in the arms of a loved one. In all of those experiences, we understood that life really is good and we did not want that experience to end. That is eternal life—that the happy moments of our lives never end. This is the life that we are created for and is the only reason for living, for our studies, for doing the works we do. The Christian message is that life is beautiful and happy. How often do we see our faith simply as a bunch of rules and sacrifices? Many Christians, with great intent, often speak of a Christian life as one of sacrifice. It is true that Christians sacrifice many things but the saints never saw it as giving up anything essential.

I remember a man thinking about priesthood. This man was a flirt. He could not resist flirting with any girl who was at least half-decently looking. A young girl once said, “You cannot be a priest. You love girls too much!” It was true that the man loved girls a lot. But does this mean that he should not be a priest? It is interesting that the young girl’s remark resembles the narrow conception of love the modern world has. The young man should have answered, “It is precisely because I love these women that I would be a priest. To love them means to love them as I love myself. And I love myself to the extent that I love my destiny, my vocation. To love them means to affirm who they are, who gave them to me, possess them in such a way that nobody can. I will possess them because I love them in Christ. I will choose priesthood precisely because I love women.” What the young girl lacked was a conception of love that knows no limits. Her narrow definition of love makes an idol out of God because it is a reduction of reality, of one’s heart and its desires.

Away for a while…

It’s been slow around here lately… Sadly, a lot of things have been going on that have prevented me from writing for this blog and Vox Nova. School and work have kept me busy and Michael and I are engaged to be married in September, so we will be focusing our time preparing mentally and spiritually for that day and for the many to come after the Sacrament. I may start writing again, but perhaps not until I am done with summer classes. All my best to you and thank you as always for stopping by!

In Him,
Katerina

Faithfulness to Christ

To Pilar Timpane, for her birthday

What does it mean to obey, to be faithful to Christ? Our obedience depends on our certainty of God’s faithfulness. This is what the great words “Thy will be done” really mean. They are a reminder of our original dependence and most of all, His faithfulness which is His affection, for us. How do we know that He is faithful? How do we know that He cares about us? Was Christ serious when he said, “What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and then lose his heart? Or what can a man give in exchange for himself?” (Matt. 16:26). Does Almighty God really value us in this way? We read in the Scriptures that Christ did not regard himself equal to God but emptied himself and became obedient to God even unto death (Phil. 2). The Incarnation, then, is the confirmation, the verification that God is truly obedient to His love for us, faithful enough to go into the depths of our hearts, of our solitude, and of our loneliness. This is the condition of our obedience: God’s obedience to Himself, His faithfulness to His love.

Everything depends on His faithfulness, in His freedom to keep looking at us with that same merciful look He gazed at Peter, the blind man, Judas, and the widow with. He revealed His absolute freedom, absolute love, when He allowed Himself to be naked, allowed Himself to be a corpse that hung on a tree. He preferred to die than live without us. And when he rose again, this confirms to us that He who loves us tells us, “You cannot die.” He who loves does not want the other to die. He who loves dies when that love is unreciprocated.

“Descended into Hell” — Exploring God’s silence

This article of the Apostle’s Creed is certainly by far the most controversial for many Christians, but why? At first, it is hard to believe that the Son of God who is sinless would descend into hell, which we understand it to be a place where there is only pain and suffering.

As this can be a topic of deep theological discussions, I only attempt here to scratch the surface based on Joseph Ratzinger’s Introduction to Christianity and the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

The “Death of God”
In reality, even though as Christians we believe in the mystery of the resurrection, we may not feel as comfortable in accepting the fact that for the resurrection to be possible, Jesus had to experience death in the same way that all men do. The mystery of our faith is based in the reality that Jesus Christ in fact died; however, this was not an ordinary death. Jesus Christ as the Redeemer, descended into hell in a special way in order to proclaim “the Good News to the spirits imprisoned there.”[1]

Sheol, Hell, and Death
Scholars claim that the word “hell” in this article of the Creed may be a false translation of the word sheol, which meant in the Old Testament a state after death characterized by nothingness. Pope Benedict XVI, in his book Introduction to Christianity, challenges this interpretation of “hell”, which only implies that Jesus died, and inquires further into the meaning of hell and death.

It is in our human nature to be afraid of loneliness. According to the Pope, if we face certain situations, such as being alone in the presence of a corpse, for instance, we will become afraid of the body even though we are aware that we will not get hurt by it. However, if someone else would be in the room with us, our fears would go away, because we would no longer be alone faced with death.

Because we enter into death by ourselves with no one accompanying us, death is also considered as utter loneliness under the Old Testament definition of sheol. This is why the Pope defines death as “absolute loneliness,” but goes further into saying that hell is “death into which love cannot longer reach.” [2]

Christ Conquers Death
Jesus also experienced this loneliness leading up to His death when He cried for the Father: “My God why have you forsaken me?”[3] Subsequently, because prior to the Incarnation, death or the state after death (sheol) was considered as complete loneliness, it is important that Christ’s death would differ from this earlier idea. He descended into hell, our final loneliness, and opened its gates to reach us with His love. When Christ died, death and hell no longer meant the same thing, because from that point on love resided in death.

“Since this love-death of our Lord, death has taken on a quite different meaning; it can become for us an expression of our purest and most living love, assuming that we take it as a conferred opportunity to give ourselves unreservedly into the hands of God” [4]

Scripture and other non Biblical References for Personal Study

Mt 27:52; Mt 12:40; Acts 2:27, 31;Rom 10:7; Eph 4:9; 1 Pet 3:19ff, 4:6
Catechism of the Catholic Church, 632-637
Joseph Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity
Johann Auer and Joseph Ratzinger, Eschatology: Death and Eternal Life
Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Credo

[1] Catechism of the Catholic Church, 678.
[2] Joseph Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 1990), 227
[3] Mk 15:34
[4] Hans Urs Von Balthasar, Credo (San Francisco, CA: Ignatius Press, 2005), 54.

Reflections on John 4

To Alexi-Noelle

Christ did not come to this world with a type of spirituality but a penetrating gaze that infuses into the human heart a love that lasts forever. In the eyes of Christ, we encounter God’s human sympathy that shatters the hardness of the heart and our indifference towards our destiny. The more we look into his eyes the more we become certain of our vocation, our destiny, and who this man is, this man who looks at us in such a way that it provokes us to have compassion for our human fragility.

Two thousand years ago, in what seems to be an ordinary event, a woman’s life was changed by a conquering gaze that awakened her freedom. She was an attractive Samaritan, a woman who had many husbands. By “happy chance,” she went to Jacob’s well while a Jewish man was resting there from his tireless work of attempting to save the world. She knew he was sitting there but did not pay attention to him. She was paying attention to her own affairs, to her own problems that she created. The Nazarene, like other men, was probably attracted to this woman. He thirsted for her heart, that is, a desire to give his spirit to her. He said, “Give me a drink.” She was surprised and forgot about what she was thinking about. She had the common conception of religion we have today, a preconception that religion suffocates you with its rules and doctrines. “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” Some narrow-minded Jews refused to talk to people who did not share their views of God and the world. This woman probably encountered those kinds of people, people whose arrogance made them walk past people whose quality of life was not up to their standards (the Good Samaritan story). But this Jew was different. The way he looked at her was different and he proposed to her something that she probably suppressed in her heart, a proposal that attracted her because here was someone who took her heart seriously.

New Contributor

Apolonio Latar who had been a previous reader of my former blog Evangelical Catholicism and a current reader and frequent commenter of this blog will be joining me in writing for this blog.  Apolonio’s thoughtful reflections and comments add an invaluable insight to the main theme I write about here: love.  Not a love of dreams, as Dostoevsky would say, but a real love that demands sacrifice and the ultimate gift of self.  This is not to say, nonetheless, that all the joy is taken out of this love.  All the contrary.  It is in addressing this point that Apolonio’s reflections become important in our ongoing discussion.  Join me in welcoming Apolonio!
Please check out Apolonio’s blog for more of his insights.

Falling in Love

(In honor of St. Valentine’s day and the season of Lent, I thought I would share a quote that my professor of Systematic theology gave us last year at the end of the semester. )

Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is,

than falling in Love in a quite absolute way.

What you are in love with,

What seizes your imagination,

Will affect everything.

It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning,

What you will do with your evenings,

How you will spend your weekends,

What you read, what you know,

What breaks your heart,

And what amazes you in joy and gratitude.

Fall in love, stay in love,

and it will decide everything.

Attributed to Pedro Arrupe, S.J.

Fast and Abstinence in Perspective

My friend Soutenus from Catholic Notebook has a wonderful post on where she puts fasting and abstinence in perspective. The post looks at fasting during the Lenten season keeping in mind how our brothers and sisters in Haiti, specifically, suffer from hunger.  Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. I think that Soutenus has a good Lent tip that I will personally consider:

During Lent you might want to place the money save by fasting and abstinence aside for people in poverty. Go to the St. Boniface Haiti Foundation to learn about their nutrition programs.

A Case Against Mardi Gras

Having lived over eight years in South Louisiana I am somewhat familiar with the hype around Mardi Gras in Catholic and non-Catholic circles. I have never been part of any of the floats or have gone to the balls, but I have gone to the parades to catch some beads and plastic cups or Frisbees and they were “okay.” We used to go to the “family-oriented” parades, but they turned out to be everything but fit for the family. My coworkers and I limited ourselves to eating the King Cake in the office and hoping we didn’t get “Baby Jesus” so we wouldn’t have to buy the cake next time. That has been the extent of my participation in the Mardi Gras festivities.

I would say that most of my Catholic friends from Louisiana, without exception, participate actively in the Mardi Gras festivities since January 6^th (technically, Mardis Gras in French refers to Fat Tuesday only, but the term is also applied to the days and festivities that precede this day). In all honesty, I don’t understand it. I don’t understand the concept of participating in excesses and indulgences before the fasting and penance that characterizes the sacred season of Lent. I don’t understand it and I don’t agree with it. I’m going to go as far to quote the words of my dear boyfriend regarding Mardi Gras: “Mardi Gras is a mockery of the Catholic faith.” I agree. It is a mockery of the Lenten season and of its purpose and sacredness.

My friends make it sound as if Mardi Gras is intrinsically Catholic and although there may be some truth to the fact that the feast is related to Catholicism by association, the festivities are everything but Christian in nature. In fact, history places the origin of carnival festivities back to pagan spring fertility rites during pre-Christian times.

Lent is supposed to be a time to grow in virtue through penance, sacrifice, and mortification. The purpose of the Lenten season is to prepare our bodies and souls to grow closer to God so we can accompany Him faithfully during his Passion, death, and then His glorious resurrection. Although Lent in itself is a time for preparation for the Triduum, preparation is also required prior to entering the Lenten season, because we need to get our minds and bodies in the mode of receiving God (just as in Advent).

So, what is the purpose of Mardi Gras? What is the goal of excessive eating, drinking, and partying right before Ash Wednesday? Is it an attempt to forget about God right before “reality” hits during Lent? How do the carnival festivities help us in growing closer to God in preparation for Lent? How does Mardi Gras aid our spiritual and physical preparation to receive God?

Growing in virtue this Lenten Season

“What are you giving up for Lent?” we are often asked during this time of year. This question usually refers to which specific food or drink we are going to stop eating or drinking during this season. Some go further and want to give up TV shows or the Internet. Although these practices of disciplining the will may sound trivial (because many people go back to their same old practices after Lent), if they are coupled with a true sense of solidarity and strong spiritual practices, they can lead us into growing in virtue during this season. It is through small acts that we can grow in humility; nevertheless, they cannot be isolated from our final goal—to reach unity with Christ.

Fasting, Abstinence, and Solidarity

Fasting is often times seen as pointless and unnecessary in an individual-centered society like the one in which we live in today. On the other hand, there is another extreme in fasting. There is a temptation to become spiritual athletes for Christ and practice intense fasting losing focus of our ultimate end: to grow closer to Christ. But it is in solidarity that our fasting can be fruitful in our spiritual life: when we realize that we are not alone, that we are united with members of the Mystical Body of Christ in the name of His love.

In other words, if you decide to stop drinking sodas or eating chocolate during this season, because they are not good for you or they make you fat, your attempts may not be all that fruitful spiritually (perhaps physically!), because they do not extend vertically or horizontally, religiously speaking. A different approach may be to actually practice fasting and abstinence as outlined by the Church and if you desire you can abstain also from certain foods of your choice, but all of this has to be done in a context of solidarity with others and in “offering it up” to Christ. Solidarity means that you recognize others’ needs and that they are always in front of you. For instance, when you fast it is a way of recognizing the hunger that many suffer around the world and the injustices that make this happen. Or when you don’t drink that soda that you usually love is a way of knowing we can leave our desires aside and understand that many people around us do not have the luxury to fulfill their desires even if they are really small and harmless as a can of soda can be.

Spiritual Practices

Lent can become almost like that time of New Year’s when we start making resolutions and we later break them after the season ends. Although it does not have to necessarily be that way. Lent can be a time for training and disciplining our will to start certain spiritual practices that if successful can extend well beyond the Lenten season and even for life. Personally, it was during one Lent two years ago when I decided to attend daily Mass and start praying the Liturgy of the Hours. I still practice both two years later, although with daily Mass schedules nowadays, it becomes difficult to attend Mass every day working a full-time job and going back to school at the same time. Nevertheless, perhaps you may want to try to go to daily Mass and visit the Blessed Sacrament or start praying the Liturgy of the Hours or read a chapter of Scripture every day or start a new devotion—or be more perseverant with the ones you already practice.

So let us go forth and make this Lenten season count. Let us allow the grace of the Lord transform us so we can cultivate solidarity in humility in our hearts as we attempt to grow closer to Christ during these 40 days and receive Him joyfully on Easter Sunday.

See:

• Creating our own desert with the Desert Fathers
• Sacrifices and Solidarity

Transforming the world by being a people “in love”

We love because he first loved us.” (1 Jn 4:16-19)

One of the things that I struggle with the most is evangelization. I have friends and family members who either do not believe in God or are baptized Catholics who have left the Church. I do not want to force my beliefs on them, but on the other hand I am by no means a pluralist who thinks that it is okay for everybody to believe in whatever it is they believe is true and leave it at that. Otherwise, I would not believe that the truth is one and that it can only be found in the God of Jesus Christ and that has been transmitted to us through His Church.

I have learned from friends who are very successful in speaking to inactive Catholics or nonbelievers that whenever we are fortunate enough to be presented with an opportunity to discuss matters of faith, first of all we must listen very carefully to the other person. We need to understand what their concerns are, which are always valid and authentic. The issues they may have with organized religion or Catholicism, for that matter, do not occur in a vacuum and may very well be justified. Unfortunately, we are not always presented with this scenario: an adequate setting or enough time to have a relaxed and truthful chat about religion or Catholicism. Most of the time we are either working, or going to school, or attending social events or going about our daily chores. So how can we evangelize during this time?

I personally believe that it all comes down to the words that have been traditionally attributed to St. Francis of Assisi: “Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” We all know that saying, but it sounds like it is easier said than done. I have long reflected about this and I have come up with an idea that is less than innovative and that may also sound like it is easier said than done! But let’s give it a try.

Love is the universal language.  Regardless of age, gender, religion, race, ethnicity, or political affiliation, human beings can all speak the language of love.  Love unites us.  Love is our common bond.  Therefore, if we want to “evangelize” we start and end with love.

When we are in love with someone, people notice it and they talk about it with us or with others. Michael and I know a Catholic couple that has been married for years. One of their children is disabled, but yet they are so filled with love and joy for their child as well as the rest of their children, friends, and coworkers. They are always smiling and making others smile as well. They are so welcoming and are always willing to help and give to the poor and needy. When we see a couple like this who share their reverence and love for the other constantly, we notice it right away and we feel like we can also share and participate in their joy—in the happiness of their union. Their union no longer is self-contained, but in fact welcomes anyone who wishes to participate in it. This is how our love for God should be: so abundant that it overflows and that allows others to share in it—a welcoming love.

When we see a compassionate person who perseveres in their ministry to the broken and the needy we are inspired by this love and wonder what keeps this person going. When we witness a son or daughter constantly caring and serving his or her elderly parents we are elevated to this higher love that moves them to give of themselves in such a way. These are people who are in love with someone and they act accordingly. They walk the talk. Same goes with our love for God. The true Christian is in love with someone—with God himself and he or she has to live out that love in order for it to be credible and for it to be a true witness.

If I constantly talk about the love I have for my boyfriend, but I am flirting with other men when he is not around or I am rude to him in front of our friends and family, will others know that I am a person in love? People will start talking and will let him know that I am perhaps not the right person for him. Same goes with friends or family members and God. If I constantly talk about how pious I am or how often I pray, but I am impatient and rude to others who I encounter every day of my life, will others know that I am in love? If I refuse to serve others and prefer to always be first, will people be inspired by my love? Am I letting my love for God shine through my actions? Can others fall in love with God through my actions?

Blessed Mother Teresa was indeed in love and she elevated our spirits to that same love that united her to Jesus Christ. In her own words, she speaks of how “demanding” that love can be just as our love for spouses, significant others, family members and friends can be:

Because I talk so much of giving with a smile, once a professor from the United States asked me: “Are you married?” And I said: “Yes, and I find it sometimes very difficult to smile at my spouse, Jesus, because He can be very demanding – sometimes.” This is really something true. And this is where love comes in – when it is demanding, and yet we can give it with joy.”

One may ask at this point, but what kind of love are we talking about here? It is definitely not romantic love that I am referring to. It is not temporal love either. It is self-emptying love. It is a radical love that seeks nothing but to serve for the glory of God. It is perseverant love. It is the kind of love that moves us out of ourselves and that bears it all for God’s sake. It is a supernatural love that acknowledges that there is life to come and that knows that this world is not an end in itself, but only a phase in our journey. It is a love that knows that we are simply nomads walking towards our final and eternal destiny to share in the joy of the Divine fellowship. It is the kind of love (caritas) that St. Paul talks about in his first letter to the Corinthians:

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, (love) is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. (13:4-8)

Christian love is radical… as radical as God becoming man… as radical as God dwelling among us… as radical as the crucified God… as radical as God being raised from the dead. We cease to be Christians when we cease to live and love radically until the end. Radical love is credible and transforming. Living out daily our radical love for God is the greatest witness we can give of our belief in the truth.