Journey

I confess that I have had my fair share of frustrations with the Church. Or, more accurately, I have had my fair share of frustrations with people--of both high and low station--within the Church. I have repeatedly been vexed by the unkindness, incompetence, and sheer stupidity within its ranks.

And yet, despite the flaws of so many of its members, I cannot help but love the Body of Christ. Even in those moments when my frustration is most acute, I cannot help but appreciate the charity, strength and wisdom one finds in this community of faith. Indeed, twenty four years after my baptism, I frequently think to myself, "I think I'll convert to Catholicism today!"

Of late, nothing has affirmed that re-commitment like Father Robert Barron's Catholicism project. In his television documentary, currently airing on PBS stations around the country, and in its companion volume of the same name, Fr. Barron provides a delightful synthesis of Catholic faith and life. He draws not only on the Church's long and rich theological tradition, but also her art, architecture, music, and history. He invokes the wisdom of Augustine and Aquinas, the genius of Michelangelo and Bernini, and the faith of John Paul II and Mother Teresa. He takes one on pilgrimage from Jerusalem to Rome, and from new York to Calcutta. In short, Fr. Barron offers a faith that is truly incarnational, in contrast with the impenetrably abstract and ultimately unsatisfying spiritualities on the market today.

In the scenes of his documentary and in the pages of his book, God becomes incarnated, enfleshed, for the spiritual seeker. Here is the God who reveals Himself in the person of Jesus Christ, the God who deigns to live and move among His people, who identifies with them.

I highly recommend both the film and the book to every spiritual seeker, whether she be a novice or a proficient, with a prayer that she enjoy this "journey to the heart of the faith"!

Come, Lord Jesus

Brothers and Sisters,

This Second Sunday of Advent marks my triumphant return to the blogosphere after more than a year's absence. Much has happened since I last posted. I had a brief sojourn in the seminary, our bishop has ordained four new priests, all good men and true, for the Diocese of Lansing, my best friends have gotten married (many blessings upon Brian and Katie), the mighty Spartans have won the Big Ten title, and I find myself preparing, at long last, to graduate. Spring has turned to summer, and summer to autumn, and autumn to winter... repeat.

And now Advent 2010 is well underway, as we prepare to welcome the Divine Child into our hearts this Christmas. I promise (no, really) to post much more often in the months ahead, but not before term papers and final exams are well out of the way. Until then, please enjoy this stirring rendition of "Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence":



Granted, the images are somewhat trippy, and despite the lyrics the video looses the sense of the hymn's Eucharistic origins, but it is still moving.

For something with a bit more Greek flavor, here's the hymn in its original form:



Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

Purifying the Source

The French novelist Francois Mauriac has a dictum of which I am rather fond, "purify the source." (Note to reader: I confess that I have not actually read Mauriac, but happened upon this pearl of wisdom second-hand.) Perhaps it reminds me of Saint Paul's phrase (regarding the charism of prophecy), "test everything; retain what is good" (2 Thessalonians 5:21). So we are to take what is most beautiful and true from a work of art and leave the rest.

Now I have a reputedly eclectic taste in music, so as you can probably guess I do a lot of purifying. Most would agree that Billy Joel isn't exactly on the level of the prophet Joel, either in the quality or the content of his craft. Still, I don't let that deter me from listening. It gets me through Math homework. And though there is much to purify in "Only the Good Die Young", Catholic belief and practice being what it is (and Billy's education in that particular field being what it is), there is a sliver of light that "shines in the darkness." Consider this gem:

You said your mother told you
All I could give you was a reputation
Ah, she never cared for me
But did she ever say a prayer for me?

Ouch! Let that be a warning to the Pharisees among us.

I dunno. I would like to develop this theme further (after I have read more Mauriac, or Maritain for that matter), as I think our Church and our society could definitely benefit from some source-purifying. It would, at least, allow us Christians to see the face of Christ reflected in art more often, even if the mirror be a mite spotty.

Here's a wonderful video montage in honor of the Blessed Mother featuring (you guessed it) Billy Joel's "She's Got a Way". Maybe Virginia taught Billy a thing or two? One can hope.



In His peace.