Mersey Leven Catholic Parish
To be a vibrant Catholic Community
unified in its commitment
to growing disciples for Christ
Parish Priest: Fr Mike Delaney Mob: 0417 279 437
Priest in Residence: Fr Phil McCormack Mob: 0437 521 257
Postal Address: PO Box 362 , Devonport 7310
Parish Office: 90 Stewart Street , Devonport 7310
(Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday 10am - 3pm)
Office Phone: 6424 2783 Fax: 6423 5160
Secretary: Annie Davies / Anne Fisher
Pastoral Council Chair: Jenny Garnsey
Parish Mass times for the Month: mlcpmasstimes.blogspot.com.au
Weekly Homily Podcast: mikedelaney.podomatic.com
Our Parish Sacramental Life
Baptism: Parents are asked to contact the Parish Office to make arrangements for attending a Baptismal Preparation Session and booking a Baptism date.
Reconciliation, Confirmation and Eucharist: Are received following a Family–centred, Parish-based, School-supported Preparation Program.
Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults: prepares adults for reception into the Catholic community.
Marriage: arrangements are made by contacting one of our priests - couples attend a Pre-marriage Program
Anointing of the Sick: please contact one of our priests
Reconciliation: Ulverstone - Fridays (10am - 10:30am)
Devonport - Saturday (5:15pm – 5:45pm)
Care and Concern: If you are aware of anyone who is sick or in need of assistance in the Parish please visit them. Then, if they are willing and give permission, could you please pass on their names to the Parish Office. We have a group of parishioners who are part of the Care and Concern Group who are willing and able to provide some backup and support to them. Unfortunately, because of privacy issues, the Parish Office is not able to give out details unless prior permission has been given.
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Archdiocesan Website: www.hobart.catholic.org.au for news, information and details of other Parishes.
Parish Prayer
Heavenly Father,
We thank you for gathering us together
and calling us to serve as your disciples.
You have charged us through Your Son, Jesus, with the great mission
of evangelising and witnessing your love to the world.
Send your Holy Spirit to guide us as we discern your will
for the spiritual renewal of our parish.
Give us strength, courage, and clear vision
as we use our gifts to serve you.
We entrust our parish family to the care of Mary, our mother,
and ask for her intercession and guidance
as we strive to bear witness
to the Gospel and build an amazing parish.
Amen.
Eucharistic Adoration - Devonport: Every Friday 10am - 12noon, concluding with Stations of the Cross and Angelus
Benediction with Adoration Devonport: - first Friday of each month.
Legion of Mary: Wednesdays 11am Sacred Heart Church Community Room, Ulverstone
Prayer Group: Charismatic Renewal – meetings will be held on Monday evenings in the Community Room, Ulverstone at 7pm.
Weekday Masses 13th - 16th June, 2017
Tuesday: 9.30am Penguin
Wednesday: 9.30am Latrobe
Thursday: 10:30am Karingal
Friday: 11:00am Mt St Vincent
Devonport
Sunday Mass: 8:30am Port Sorell
9:00am Ulverstone
10:30am Devonport
11:00am Sheffield
5:00pm Latrobe
Ministry Rosters 17th & 18th June, 2017
Devonport:
Readers: Vigil: P Douglas, T Douglas, B Paul
10:30am: A
Hughes, T Barrientos, P Piccolo
Ministers of Communion: Vigil T Muir, M
Davies, M Gerrand, M Kenney, D Peters, J Heatley
10.30am: B & N Mulcahy, L Hollister, K Hull, S
Samarakkody, R Batepola
Cleaners 16th
June: M & L
Tippett, A Berryman 23rd June: K.S.C.
Piety Shop 17th
June: H Thompson 18th June: O McGinley Flowers: M Breen
Mowing of Lawns
at Parish House for month of June: Tony Davies
Ulverstone:
Reader: E Cox Ministers of
Communion: E Reilly, M & K McKenzie, M O’Halloran
Cleaners: M
McKenzie, M Singh, N Pearce Flowers: E Beard Hospitality:
M & K McKenzie
Penguin:
Greeters: G & N Pearce Commentator: Readers: E Nickols, A Landers
Ministers of
Communion: J
Barker, T Clayton Liturgy: Penguin
Setting Up: E Nickols Care of Church: M Murray, E Nickols
Latrobe:
Reader: M Chan Ministers of Communion: P Marlow, M Eden Procession of Gifts: M Clarke
Port Sorell:
Readers: L Post, T Jeffries Ministers of Communion: P Anderson Cleaners/Flowers/Prep: C Howard
Readings this week
The Most Holy Trinity – Year A
First Reading: Exodus 34:4-6. 8-9
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Gospel: John 3:16-18
PREGO REFLECTION:
I come to stillness in the presence of God.
I make a slow
sign of the cross, in the name of the Trinity.
During this week, I may find myself puzzling over the
mystery of God as Trinity.
It may help me, as I come to pray, to remember that
there is a time for seeking understanding by thinking and reading, but in this
time of stillness I enter into prayer in great trust that God will reveal
himself to me in the way that is best for me.
I read the Gospel passage, imagining myself in Nicodemus’
company as he searches for Jesus in the darkness, looking for light.
What do we
say to each other?
Perhaps I ponder: what am I really searching for in my life?
I share with our Lord.
I listen as Jesus explains to Nicodemus the truth about
himself. I notice what rises within me as I hear Jesus speak.
I may like to make Jesus’ words personal: God so loved (my
name)…
Father, you so loved me …
What do I notice now? I speak with Jesus as
friend and saviour, or with our loving Father.
I end my prayer, perhaps in stillness and gratitude for
God’s love, or asking for whatever help or grace I need.
Glory be ….
Readings next week
The Most Holy Body
and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi) – Year A
First Reading: Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14-16;
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 10:16-17
Gospel: John 6:51-58
Pat Wood, Robert Windebank, Mary Hutchinson, Fr Laurie Bissett MSC, Victoria
Webb, Victor Slavin & …,
Let us pray for those who have died recently:
Chad Lewis, Barbara Kelley, Anne
Elliott, Joan Singline, June
Morris, Dorothy Hamilton, Earl Williams, Lourdes Lupango, Jean Horton, Peter
Hutchinson, Martin Healy, Fr Mark McGuinness, Anne Watson.
Let us pray
for those whose anniversary occurs about this time: 7th – 13th
June
Phyllis Revell, Delia Lynch, Angus Barton, Allan Cassidy, Judith Rigney, John Deegan, Colin Crowden, Flores McKenzie, Pat Malone, Eva Zvatora, Norah Astell,
Agnes Rose, Fr Wilfred Speers CP, Rose & Henry Forbes and Alison Herring. Also
Alex & Winifred Lohrey, Ken & Michael Lohrey, David Lawrie, Kevin
Hartnett, Jim Lowry and deceased relatives and friends of Lohrey, Finch and
Butler families.
May they rest in peace
Weekly
Ramblings
I would like to begin my Ramblings this week buy expressing
my sincere thanks to everyone who did so much to make last Sunday’s Whole of
Parish Mass and Luncheon such a success. There were so many people who assisted
in so many and varied ways that it would be impossible to thank everyone
individually without omitting at least one person so I would hope that everyone
accepts this note as an expression of my thanks.
At the same time as it was a great success I would invite
anyone, and everyone who might want to, to make comments about our celebration
with suggestions for improvement in any and all areas of the day. I have some
thoughts about what we might do to improve our gathering and celebration and I
would welcome any of your thoughts.
Also during the week the Knights of the Southern Cross
attacked and defeated a hedge that run down the western side of the boundary of
the Parish House. Over the years this hedge had become an eyesore as well as
safety hazard – it grabbed anyone who walked by – and thanks to the KSC it is
no more. Well done guys and thanks.
Next Saturday in Burnie at 11am Fidelis Odousoro will be
ordained to the Diaconate. This is an opportunity for us to celebrate as a
Church and another occasion for us to pray for the growth of the Church in
Tasmania.
Our Parish Pastoral Council Meeting was postponed from last
Wednesday evening and will now be held this week. Thanks to everyone who prayed
for the meeting and the work of the PPC last week – if you were able to do it
again from 5.15pm this coming Wednesday that would also be appreciated.
Please take care on the roads and in your homes,
Mersey Leven Parish Community welcome and
congratulate
Kyan Bugeja, son of Aaron & Grace on his Baptism
this
weekend at Sacred Heart Church, Ulverstone.
ST VINCENT DE PAUL COLLECTION:
This weekend the St Vincent de Paul collection will be in
Devonport, Ulverstone, Port Sorell, Latrobe and Penguin to assist the work of
the St Vincent de Paul Society.
23 million people are currently
on the brink of famine in South Sudan and other areas of East Africa. Caritas
Australia and their partners are delivering life-saving food and water to
countries most in need. Caritas is one of the largest grassroots humanitarian
networks in the world and is currently providing emergency food, water and basic
medical care to those facing starvation and malnutrition. As followers of
Christ we are compelled to respond and act when our sisters and brothers are
suffering, recognising Christ in those without food. This crisis may be worse
than the famine in Ethiopia in the 1980s.
You can help deliver emergency relief by donating online www.caritas.org.au/foodcrisis or by calling 1800 024 413. Envelopes are also available from all Mass Centres
this weekend.
A reminder that the ‘Craft and
Cake Stall’ will be held this morning (Sunday) after 9am Mass in the Community
Room, Sacred Heart Church. Bring your spare change along and pick up some
delicious home cooking and home-made craft!
PLANNED GIVING PROGRAMME:
New envelopes are being distributed
during June. If you are not already part of this programme and would like to
join, or do not wish to continue giving, please contact the Parish office.
Please note: The new envelopes (Yellow in
colour) should not be used until starting date 2nd July, therefore once you start using them you need
to discard any old envelopes (pink in colour) – thank you!
FOOTY
TICKETS: Round 11 (2nd June)
footy margin 22 – Winners: Marie Byrne
BINGO - Thursday Nights - OLOL
Hall, Devonport. Eyes down 7.30pm! Callers for Thursday 15th
June – Rod Clark & Alan Luxton
NEWS FROM ACROSS THE ARCHDIOCESE:
WALK WITH CHRIST – Hobart City, Sunday 18th June 1:15pm to 3:00 pm.
Celebrate the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ by
walking with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament through the city of Hobart. Be at
St Joseph's Church (Harrington St) by 1.15 pm, and walk with us to St Mary's
Cathedral for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and Benediction concluding at
3:00. There will be a 'cuppa' afterwards. If you can't do the walk
come to the Cathedral at 2:00 for prayer and Adoration. Experience our
rich Catholic heritage in solidarity with Catholics all over the world and
through the ages, by bearing public witness to our Lord and Saviour. Can't join
us in person? Prayer intentions written in the 'Book of Life' in your parish
will be taken in the procession and presented at the Cathedral.
THE JOURNEY CATHOLIC RADIO
PROGRAM:
This week on the Journey, Fr Richard Healey reflects on the
gospel of John on this very special Trinity Sunday. Sr Hilda shares her
wisdom from the Abbey on ‘Our Brokenness”, Bruce Downes, ‘The Catholic Guy’
encourages us with ‘Different Ways to Pray’, and Sam Clear reminds us about
‘Silence’ in his segment, Walking The Walk. Inspired by amazing Christian music
artists, we create a show for you that is all about faith, hope, love and life.
Go to www.jcr.org.au or www.itunes.jcr.org.au where you can
listen anytime and subscribe to weekly shows by email.
THE SEAMLESS GARMENT
The original of this article, by Fr Ron Rolheiser, can be found at here
John of the Cross teaches that within spirituality and morality there are no exempt areas. Simply put, you cannot be a saint or a highly moral person if you allow yourself a moral exemption or two. Thus, I may not allow myself to split off one moral flaw or sinful habit and see it as unimportant in the light of my positive qualities and the overall good that I do. For John of the Cross, you cannot be a saint and have a moral blind-spot, even if it’s a minor one. A bird tethered to a rock, he says, cannot fly irrespective of whether the cord holding it is a cable or a string.
The same is true for our efforts to protect life and foster justice in our world. The protection of life and the promotion of justice are all of one piece. We cannot be an authentic prophet and have a few moral blind spots.
A huge consequence flows from this, namely, we cannot treat issues like abortion, nuclear war, lack of ecological sensitivity, the plight of refugees, racism, sexism, poverty and inequality, poor access to health care, unequal access to education, sexual irresponsibility, and discrimination against the LGBT community in isolation from each other, as if these were wholly discrete issues. Whether we admit it or not, these areas are all inextricably interconnected. To quote Cardinal Bernardin: “The success of any one of the issues concerning life requires a concern for the broader attitude in society about the respect for human life.” That’s a strong challenge for all of us, on all sides of the ideological spectrum.
Thus, those of us who are concerned about abortion need to accept that the problem of abortion cannot be effectively addressed without at the same time addressing issues of poverty, access to health care, sexual morality, and even capital punishment. The interconnection here is not wholly mystical. It’s real. Abortion is driven more by poverty and lack of adequate support than by any liberal ideology. Hence, the struggle against abortion must also focus on the issues of poverty and support for pregnant women. As well, to morally accept killing in one area (capital punishment) helps sanction its acceptance in another area (abortion). Sexual morality must also be addressed since abortion is the inevitable bi-product of a society within which two people who are not married to each other have sex with each other.
It’s all one piece, and any opposition to abortion that fails to adequately recognize the wider perspective that more fully defines Pro-life leaves many sincere people unable to support anti-abortion groups.
Conversely, those of us who are concerned with the issues of poverty, health-care, capital punishment, ecology, war, racism, sexism, and LGBT rights, need to accept that these issues cannot be effectively addressed without also addressing the issue of abortion. Again, the interconnection isn’t just mystical, it’s empirical: Failure to be sensitive to who is weak and vulnerable in one area deeply compromises one’s moral standing on other issues that deal with the weak and the vulnerable. We must advocate for and strive to protect everyone who falls victim within our present way of living, and that includes the unborn.
It’s all of one piece! There can be no exempt areas, thus opposition to the protection of the unborn is not just antithetical to what’s central within a social justice agenda, but it, perhaps more than anything else, leaves liberal ideology and its political allies compromised in a way that allows many sincere people to withhold their support.
Clearly, of course, nobody is asked to give equal energy to every justice issue in the world. Accepting that none of these issues can be effectively dealt within isolation shouldn’t stop us from passionately working on one issue or another. But knowing that these issues are all of one piece does demand that we always recognize that, however important our particular issue, we may not see it in simple black and white, without nuance, as an issue that can be dealt with within one ideological, political, or religious silo. We must always be sensitive to the whole, to the big picture, to the intricate interconnections among all these social issues.
And, not least, we must be humble before and sensitive to our own moral inconsistencies.
We will, this side of eternity, always have them and we must forgive ourselves for them and not let perfection, that fact we can’t be fully consistent, be the enemy of the good, that fact that we can do some good work that is effective. But acknowledging both our own inconsistencies and the complexities of the issues should make us more open to listening to the views of others and make us less doctrinaire and fundamentalist in our own attitudes.
All the issues that deal with justice and peace, are of one piece, one whole, one moral corpus, one seamless garment; and, like the soldiers casting dice for Jesus’ clothing, we should hesitate to tear this garment into different pieces.
Jesus as Scapegoat
This article is a collation from the Daily email series sent by Fr Richard Rohr OFM. You can subscribe to these emails by clicking here
The Scapegoat
Mechanism
As I mentioned last week, Jesus on the cross echoes three
healing images: the Passover lamb, the “Lifted-Up One,” and the scapegoat
ritual. The third symbol deserves a deeper exploration because it is central to
understanding how Jesus resets the pattern of history. We’ll spend this week
looking at Jesus as scapegoat before we move on to the promise of resurrection.
Humans have always struggled to deal with fear and evil by
ways other than forgiveness, most often through sacrificial systems.
Philosopher René Girard (1923-2015) saw the tendency to scapegoat others as the
primary story line of human history in every culture. [1] Why? Because it
works, and it is largely an immediate and an unconscious egoic response. The
scapegoat mechanism was ritualized by the Israelites, as we’ll see tomorrow
(see Leviticus 16:20-22).
If your ego is still in charge, you will find a “disposable”
person or group on which to project your problems. People who haven’t come to
at least a minimal awareness of their own dark side will always find someone
else to hate or fear. Hatred holds a group together much more quickly and
easily than love and inclusivity, I am sorry to say. Something has to be
sacrificed. Blood has to be shed. Someone has to be blamed, attacked, tortured,
imprisoned, or killed. Sacrificial systems create religions and governments of
exclusion and violence. Yet Jesus taught and modeled inclusivity and
forgiveness!
Sadly, the history of violence and the history of religion
are almost the same history. When religion remains at the immature level, it
tends to create very violent people who ensconce themselves on the side of the
good, the worthy, the pure, the saved. They project all their evil somewhere
else and attack it over there. At this level, they export the natural death
instinct onto others, as though it’s someone else who has to die.
As long as you can deal with evil by some means other than
forgiveness, you will never experience the real meaning of evil and sin. You will
keep projecting, fearing, and attacking it over there, instead of “gazing” on
it within and “weeping” over it within yourself and all of us. The longer you
gaze, the more you will see your own complicity in and profitability from the
sin of others, even if it is the satisfaction of feeling you are on higher
moral ground. Forgiveness demands three new simultaneous “seeings”: I must see
God in the other; I must access God in myself; and I must experience God in a
new way that is larger than an “Enforcer.”
References:
[1] I highly recommend James Alison’s exploration of René
Girard’s work, particularly Alison’s four-part study series Jesus the Forgiving
Victim: Listening for the Unheard Voice (DOERS Publishing: 2013),
http://www.forgivingvictim.com/.
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as
Spirituality (Franciscan Media: 2008), 193-194.
The Myth of Redemptive
Violence
Leviticus 16 describes the ingenious ritual from which our
word “scapegoating” originated. On the Day of Atonement, a priest laid hands on
an “escaping” goat, placing all the sins of the Jewish people from the previous
year onto the animal. Then the goat was beaten with reeds and thorns and driven
out into the desert. And the people went home rejoicing, just as European
Christians did after burning a supposed heretic at the stake, or white
Americans did after the lynching of black men. Whenever the “sinner” is
excluded, our ego is delighted and feels relieved and safe. It sort of works,
but only for a while. Usually the illusion only deepens and becomes catatonic,
blind, and repetitive—because of course, scapegoating did not really work to
eliminate the evil in the first place.
Jesus became the scapegoat to reveal the universal lie of
scapegoating. Note that John the Baptist said, “Behold the Lamb of God, who
takes away the sin [singular] of the world” (John 1:29). It seems “the sin of
the world” is ignorant hatred, fear, and legitimated violence.
The Gospel is a highly subversive document. It painstakingly
illustrates how the systems of both church and state (Caiaphas and Pilate)
conspired to condemn Jesus. Throughout most of history, church and state have
both sought plausible scapegoats to carry their own shame and guilt.
Jesus became the sinned-against one to reveal the hidden nature
of scapegoating and so that we would see how wrong people in authority can
be—even religious important people (see John 16:8-11 and Romans 8:3). The
scapegoat mechanism largely operates in the unconscious; people do not know
what they are doing. Scapegoaters do not know they are scapegoating, but they
think they are doing a “holy duty for God” (John 16:2). You see why inner work,
shadow work, and honest self-knowledge are all essential to any healthy
religion.
In worshiping Jesus as the scapegoat, Christians should have
learned to stop scapegoating. We too could be utterly wrong about choosing
victims, just as high priest and king, Jerusalem and Rome—the highest levels of
authority—were utterly wrong about Jesus. Power itself is not a good guide, yet
for many, if not most people, authority soothes their anxiety and relieves
their own responsibility to form a mature conscience.
Millions of soldiers have given their only lives by
believing the lies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Stalin, Pol Pot, and Hitler, to
name a few. The vast majority of violence in history has been sacralized
violence. Members of ISIS probably believe they are doing God’s will. The Ku
Klux Klan uses the cross as their symbol!
With God on our side, our violence becomes necessary and
even “redemptive violence.” But there is no such thing as redemptive violence.
Violence doesn’t save; it only destroys in both short and long term. Jesus
replaced the myth of redemptive violence with the truth of redemptive
suffering. He showed us on the cross how to hold the pain and let it transform
us, rather than pass it on to the others around us.
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, CONSPIRE 2016: Everything
Belongs, sessions 2 and 3 (CAC: 2016), MP4 video download.
Avoiding
Transformation
It seems we always find some way to avoid the transformation
of our pain. There’s the common way of fight. Fighters are looking for the
evildoer, the sinner, the unjust one, the oppressor, the bad person “over
there.” He or she “righteously” attacks, hates, or even kills the wrong-doer,
while feeling heroic for doing so (see John 16:2). We are all tempted to
project our problem on someone or something else rather than dealing with it in
ourselves.
The zealot—and we’ve all been one at different times—is
actually relieved by having someone to hate, because it takes away our inner
shame and anxiety and provides a false sense of innocence. As long as the evil
is “over there” and we can keep our focus on changing or expelling someone else
(as the contaminating element), then we feel at peace. But this is not the
peace of Christ, which “the world cannot give” (see John 14:27).
Playing the victim is another way to deal with pain
indirectly. You blame someone else, and your pain becomes your personal ticket
to power because it gives you a false sense of moral superiority and outrage.
You don’t have to grow up, let go, forgive, or surrender—you just have to
accuse someone else of being worse than you are. And sadly, that becomes your
very fragile identity, which always needs more reinforcement.
The other common way to avoid the path of transformation is
the way of flight or denial. It can take many forms. Those with the instinct to
flee will often deny or ignore pain by naively dividing the world up through
purity codes and worthiness systems. They keep the problem on the level of
words, ideas, and absolute laws separating good and evil. They refuse to live
in the real world of shadow and paradox. They divide the world into total good
guys and complete bad guys, a comfortable but untrue worldview of black and
white. This approach comprises most fundamentalist and early stage religion. It
refuses to carry the cross of imperfection, failure, and sin in itself. It is
always others who must be excluded so I can be pure and holy. Denial is an
understandable—but false—way of coping and surviving. Yet it is often the only
way that many people can deal with the complexity of their human situation.
All of these patterns perpetuate pain and violence rather
than bringing true healing. Jesus took the more difficult path: to know the
depths of suffering and sin and yet to forgive reality for being what it is.
That is the Third Way, beyond fight and flight, and yet in a subtle sense
including both of them. Only the Spirit can teach us the paradox of Jesus’
death and resurrection, the pattern of all growth, change, and transformation.
It is equally hard to trust both sides—the dying itself and the promised new
state.
References:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, “Jesus: Forgiving Victim,
Transforming Savior,” Richard Rohr on Transformation, Collected Talks, Vol. 1,
disc 1 (Franciscan Media: 1997); and
Richard Rohr with John Feister, Hope Against Darkness: The
Transforming Vision of Saint Francis in an Age of Anxiety (Franciscan Media:
2001), 19-20, 22-24.
Forgiving Victim
In terms of the soul, no one else is your problem. You are
invariably your primary problem. You are always the locus of conversion and
transformation. I believe the message of the crucified Jesus is a statement
about what to do with your pain. It’s primarily a message of transformation,
and not a transaction to “open the gates of heaven,” unless you are talking
about being drawn into heaven right now. For some unfortunate reason,
Christians have usually “used” Jesus as a mere problem solver, one who would
protect us personally from pain later. That kept us in a very small,
self-centered world. The big loss was that we missed Jesus’ message of how to
let God transform us and our world here and now.
The book of Revelation presents the paradoxical image of a
Lamb who is simultaneously slaughtered and standing, victim and victorious at
the same time (see Revelation 5:6 and throughout). This is the transformative
mystery in iconic form. We must put together these two seeming opposites in our
own life.
Was God trying to solve a problem through what looked like
the necessary death of Jesus? Or was God trying to reveal something central
about the nature of God? Christians have historically taught that God was
saving us from our sins. Maybe an even better way to say it is that Jesus was
saving us through our sins. As Paul says with great subtlety, Jesus “became sin
that we might become the very goodness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). In other
words, Jesus becomes the problem to show us how to resolve the problem.
We are generally inclined to either create victims of others
or play the victim ourselves, both of which are no solution but only perpetuate
the problem. Jesus instead holds the pain—even becomes the pain—until it
transforms him into a higher state, which we rightly call the risen life.
The crucified and resurrected Jesus shows us how to do this
without denying, blaming, or projecting pain elsewhere. In fact, there is no
“elsewhere.” Jesus is the victim in an entirely new way because he receives our
hatred and does not return it, nor does he play the victim for his own
empowerment. We find no self-pity or resentment in Jesus. He never asks his
followers to avenge his murder. He suffers and does not make others suffer
because of it. He does not use his suffering and death as power over others to
punish them, but as power for others to transform them.
Jesus is the forgiving victim, which really is the only hope
of our world, because most of us sooner or later will be victimized on some
level. It is the familiar story line of an unjust and often cruel humanity. The
cross is a healing message about the violence of humanity, and we tragically
turned it into the violence of God, who we thought needed "a
sacrifice" to love us.
An utterly new attitude (Spirit) has been released in
history; it’s a spirit of love, compassion, and forgiveness. As Jesus prayed on
the cross, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).
References:
Adapted from Richard Rohr “Jesus: Forgiving Victim,
Transforming Savior,” Richard Rohr on Transformation, Collected Talks, Vol. 1,
disc 1 (Franciscan Media: 1997); and
Richard Rohr with John Feister, Hope Against Darkness: The
Transforming Vision of Saint Francis in an Age of Anxiety (St. Anthony
Messenger Press: 2001), 22-23.
Love, Not Atonement
All the great religions of the world talk a lot about death,
so there must be an essential lesson to be learned here. But throughout much of
religious history our emphasis has been on killing the wrong thing and avoiding
the truth: it’s you who has to die, or rather, who you think you are—your false
self. It's never someone else!
Historically we moved from human sacrifice to animal
sacrifice to various modes of seeming self-sacrifice, usually involving the
body. For many religions, including immature Christianity, God was distant and
scary, an angry deity who must be placated. God was not someone with whom you
fell in love or with whom you could imagine sharing intimacy or tenderness.
The common Christian reading of the Bible is that Jesus
“died for our sins”—either to pay a debt to the devil (common in the first
millennium) or to pay a debt to God the Father (proposed by Anselm of
Canterbury, 1033-1109). Theologians later developed a “substitutionary
atonement theory”—the strange idea that before God could love us God needed and
demanded Jesus to be a blood sacrifice to ''atone'' for our sin. As a result,
our theology became more transactional than transformational.
Franciscan philosopher and theologian John Duns Scotus
(1266-1308) was not guided by the Temple language of debt, atonement, or blood
sacrifice (understandably used in the New Testament written by observant Jews).
He was instead inspired by the cosmic hymns in the first chapters of Colossians
and Ephesians and the first chapter of John's Gospel. For Duns Scotus, the
incarnation of God and the redemption of the world could never be a mere mop-up
exercise in response to human sinfulness, but the proactive work of God from
the very beginning. We were “chosen in Christ before the world was made”
(Ephesians 1:4). Our sin could not possibly be the motive for the divine
incarnation; rather, God’s motivation was infinite divine love and full
self-revelation! For Duns Scotus, God never merely reacts, but always freely
acts out of free and unmerited love.
Jesus did not come to change the mind of God about humanity
(it did not need changing)! Jesus came to change the mind of humanity about
God. God’s abundance and compassion make any scarcity economy of merit or
atonement unhelpful and unnecessary. Jesus undid “once and for all” (Hebrews
7:27; 9:12; 10:10) all notions of human and animal sacrifice and replaced them
with his new infinite economy of grace. Jesus was meant to be a game changer
for religion and the human psyche.
This grounds Christianity in love and freedom from the very
beginning; it creates a very coherent and utterly attractive religion, which
draws people toward lives of inner depth, prayer, reconciliation, healing, and
universal “at-one-ment,” instead of mere sacrificial atonement. Nothing
“changed” on Calvary but everything was revealed—an eternally outpouring love.
Jesus switched the engines of history: instead of us needing to spill blood to
get to God, we have God spilling blood to get to us!
References:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Eager to Love: The Alternative
Way of Francis of Assisi (Franciscan Media: 2014), 183-188;
“Dying: We Need It for Life,” Richard Rohr on
Transformation, Collected Talks, Vol. 1, disc 4 (Franciscan Media: 1997); and
Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality (Franciscan Media:
2008), 202.
Cross as Agenda
In terms of healing and symbolism, everything hinges on the
cross. The cross is about how to fight and not become a casualty yourself. The
cross is about being the victory instead of just winning a victory. The cross
is about refusing the simplistic win-lose scenario and holding out for a
possible win-win scenario.
The cross clearly says that evil is to be opposed but we
must first hold the tension, ambiguity, and pain of it. “Resist evil and overcome
it with good,” as Paul says (Romans 12:21). The cross moves us from the rather
universal myth of redemptive violence to a new scenario of transformative
suffering.
On the cross of life, we accept our own complicity and
cooperation with evil, instead of imagining ourselves on some pedestal of moral
superiority. As Paul taught: “everyone has sinned” (Romans 5:12) and Jesus the
Lamb of God had the humility to “become sin” (2 Corinthians 5:21) with us.
The mystery of the cross teaches us how to stand against
hate without becoming hate, how to oppose evil without becoming evil ourselves.
Can you feel yourself stretching in both directions—toward God’s goodness and
also toward recognition of your own complicity in evil? If you look at yourself
at that moment, you will feel crucified. You hang in between, without
resolution, your very life a paradox, held in hope by God (see Romans 8:23-25).
The goal of God's work is always healing reconciliation, not
retributive justice. And like Jesus, we
must invest ourselves in this work of reconciliation that “the two might become
one” (see Ephesians 2:13-18).
Human existence is neither perfectly consistent, nor is it
total chaos, but it has a "cruciform" shape of cross purposes, always
needing to be reconciled in us. To hold the contradictions with God, with
Jesus, is to participate in the redemption of the world (Colossians 1:24). We
all must forgive reality for being what it is. We can’t do this alone, but only
by a deep identification with the Crucified One and with crucified humanity.
Christ then "carries" us across!
The risen, victorious Jesus gives us a history and hopeful
future that moves beyond predictable violence. He destroys death and sin not by
canceling it out; but by making a trophy of it. Think about that for a long
time until it cracks you open. And it will!
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as
Spirituality (Franciscan Media: 2008), 203-205.
KNOW YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD
This article is taken from the blog by Fr Michael White, Pastor of the Church of the Nativity, Baltimore. The original blog can be found here
This week we are in Austria for a Rebuilt Conference. We love our friends and partners here and greatly enjoy working with parishes in this beautiful country.
Today we took the morning to visit one of the most popular tourist attractions here, the Schonbrunn Palace, the home of the Hapsburg monarchs and their family. It is a breathtakingly beautiful place.
It is also an object lesson in leadership. Built in stages over centuries, it was alternately a quiet retreat, hunting lodge, summer palace, and eventually principle and preferred residence for the Emperor. It is not in Vienna, it’s outside Vienna, well outside. It’s safely outside, a cocoon of privilege and pleasure intended to be completely removed from the realities of the rest of the capital. A strange way to rule for sure, but not unknown in European history. The Russian Tsars did the same thing at Tsarskoye-Selo, their palace complex outside St. Petersburg, and, of course, the French kings did it at Versailles. These dynasties all have something else in common. None of them exist today.
As I was touring the splendid spaces of Schonbrunn, I couldn’t help but think of many churches I have visited. Beautiful, sometimes exquisitely beautiful buildings designed for the edification and inspiration of the people in the pews. And carefully isolated from the community around them. And some of the parish staff I’ve met serve just like museum curators, or palace retainers, seeking to serve pampered parishioners.
That’s not leadership and it’s not what we’re suppose to be doing in our church.
Healthy, growing parishes, need to know their neighborhoods, they need to be a part of the life of the community and actively involved in the transformation of their communities.
Otherwise, however beautiful our churches, we’re doomed for disappointment, as the Hapsburg’s learned a long time ago.
A Reflection on Jesus’s Leadership
What qualities do we look for in a good leader? How can we become better leaders ourselves? Thinking Faith invited Thomas Shufflebotham SJ to guide us in a prayerful reflection on just three of the innumerable qualities of Jesus that any good Christian leader should seek to emulate. Thomas Shufflebotham SJ directs the Spiritual Exercises at St Beuno’s Jesuit Spirituality Centre in North Wales and the original article can be found here
It is striking that in the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius attaches virtually no adjectives to Jesus. He seems content to have us watch the Lord’s actions and ponder some of his words, but for the most part he leaves it to us to imagine the characteristics and qualities of Christ as we are moved to do so: that is to say, he leaves it to us and the Holy Spirit.
On the other hand, one could go on forever naming qualities and facets of Jesus Christ as he passes through the pages of the gospels.[1] The compilers of the Litanies of the Holy Name and of the Sacred Heart were not short of ideas. Many of those adjectives have a bearing on his leadership.
For now, I want to pick out from the plethora of possibilities three attributes of Jesus which seem to me to be central to Christian leadership, three Christ-centred approaches which I suspect Ignatius might stress were he to walk through the door into our century and its challenges.
Authenticity
First, I suggest authenticity and what it implies: honesty, truthfulness, integrity, or – a word favoured by Ignatius – probity.
Jesus teaches by word and example, and what he says and does are in perfect harmony with who he is. Jesus is truth, Jesus tells the truth and, while he may not distance himself from hypocrites, the gospels time and again show him distancing himself from hypocrisy. He does not twist or manipulate the truth.
President Eisenhower claimed that ‘the supreme quality for leadership is unquestionably integrity’. More informally, the jazz musician Charlie Parker said, ‘If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn’. With words that still speak volumes to us today, Pope Paul VI wrote in 1975: ‘Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty.’[2]
Forty years on, it is even clearer that manipulating or stifling the truth can do immense harm, both because it does not work and because it is a contradiction of Christianity. It is not the way of Jesus. It rings true when Jesus says, ‘If your eye is clear, your whole body will be filled with light’ (Matt 6: 22).
Jesus’s gaze is on God, he refers all to the Father; his leadership therefore is not self-regarding. His disciples and companions, too, will be true and honest if they focus on God rather than self. That will require sincere prayer, prayer in which we give God the freedom to show us the opposite of what suits our convenience, the freedom to shatter our preferences. And, to use an Ignatian word, the heart of our prayer needs to be conversation or colloquy that is sincere: I need to be willing to look God in the eye, to meet God’s gaze.
When Peter cures a cripple he tells him, ‘In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, walk’ (Acts 3:6; earlier, perhaps, he might have been tempted to garner the credit). Likewise, the Christian community always gathers in the name of Jesus, not in its own name. A Christian community that does not focus on Jesus soon begins to become its own master, to use others for its own convenience and to descend into hypocrisy: it is not authentic.
Jesus breathes dignity, but without seeking it. He attracted his companions with honesty, not by concealing the challenges but by stating them clearly. ‘Whoever does the truth comes out into the light, so that what he is doing may plainly appear as done in God’ (Jn 3:21).
Walking on in faith
A second approach to leadership that Jesus elicits from his followers and companions could be summed up as walking on in faith. That is implying that as we keep step with Christ we gaze ahead, but without ignoring or downplaying the past; and all in a spirit of faith and courage, imitating Jesus who, says Luke, ‘resolutely turned his face towards Jerusalem’ (Luke 9:51).
Jesus reverenced the Law and the prophets; at the Transfiguration he is seen conversing with Moses and Elijah[3]: he comes to fulfil the Law. Even after the Resurrection his followers are still treasuring Israel’s heritage. But Jesus also speaks of new wine and new wineskins.
The risen Lord challenges the travellers on the road to Emmaus to draw inspiration from their tradition, but also to walk with him into the future:
‘So slow to believe all that the prophets have said! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer - before entering into his glory?’ (Luke 24:26).
His disciple Peter looks backwards to the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth and the Resurrection event, and he preaches out of past experience: ‘We are witnesses’, he says, ‘of everything that he did’. But that same faith and respect for the tradition leads Peter to accept the new vision for the future which the Holy Spirit begins to show him at the house of a Gentile centurion. (Acts 10:1-48) To Simon Bar-Jonah some years earlier, it would have been unthinkable, and in any case he would have lacked the courage. Peter’s leadership had to imbibe courage from his leader, Jesus. St Bernard summed it up neatly when he described the Church as, Ecclesia ante et retro occulata: the Church must have eyes for what is ahead and what is past.
Jesus’s leadership was infectious once the Spirit was given to the infant church, and Acts of the Apostles shows us his disciples walking courageously the thin line of fidelity to tradition combined with fidelity to the Spirit urging them into new paths. Either component could land them in persecution and vicious criticism. Holding to both – the old and the new - could be a crucifixion.
The compassion of Christ
I suggest that a third key also is necessary: the compassion of Christ. With authenticity and faith alone we can be impressive but impossible to live with. Being genuine companions implies this extra dimension, this third key, this love infused with empathy. When it is applied to choices, decisions, policy, it becomes Ignatius’s discerning love: discreta caritas.
In this, our inspiration is the example of Christ just as the grace of Christ is our strength, and he challenges us to ‘Be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate’ (Luke 6:36).
A model for this compassion is found in Paul’s rhapsody on love in 1 Corinthians. As we read it we could imagine it as spoken to us – as of course it is:
And now I’m going to show you a way that is even more outstanding. If I speak in the languages of human beings and of angels, but do not have love, then I have turned into a sounding brass or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy, and I know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have complete faith, so as to move mountains, but have no love, I am nothing. And if I divide all my possessions into bits, and if I hand over my body in order that I may boast, but do not have love, I am not helped in any way.
Love waits patiently, shows kindness. Love is not jealous, does not brag, is not ‘puffed up’, does not behave improperly, does not seek self- interest, doesn’t get provoked, doesn’t reckon up evil, doesn’t rejoice at injustice, but rejoices at integrity.
Love copes with everything; is always committed, always hopeful, always endures to the end; love never collapses (1 Cor 12:31 – 13:8).
Commenting on this, his own translation of the passage, Nicholas King SJ writes: ‘this “solution” to the problems of Corinth could also be read as Paul’s portrait of his beloved Jesus Christ. With Paul it always comes back to Jesus’.[4] And for companions of Jesus, too, it must always come back to Jesus.
God’s compassion, incarnate in Jesus, embraces the crowd. He had compassion on the multitude (Mark 6:34) and he longed and longed to gather Jerusalem and her children together as a hen gathers her chicks; he died ‘to gather together into one the scattered children of God’ (John 11:52), having prayed beforehand ‘that they may all be one’ (John 17:21).
And equally, that compassion embraces the individual, be it the woman at Simon’s feast, or a leper, or a poor widow, or a rich young man; indeed every human being with a heart open to accept it.
The characteristic backdrop for Jesus’s leadership is not an auditorium or a parade-ground, but a meal. When he imparts leadership to Peter it is in the imagery of shepherding: a preference for the intimate and the personal touch rather than dragooning.
Jesus’s style of leadership – a style without a style – vaults over the centuries and addresses the needs of our time. Nowhere is this more evident than in his attitude to women. Dorothy L. Sayers remarks,
[Women] had never known a man like this Man – there never has been such another. A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, never flattered or coaxed or patronised … who rebuked without querulousness and praised without condescension … never urged them to be feminine, or jeered at them for being female; with no axe to grind and no uneasy male dignity to defend.[5]
Mary Ward, Mary McAleese, Elizabeth II: none of them have had much power exactly, but they have exercised leadership, and it is clear that in large measure Christ’s attitude and values are their model.
What makes Jesus’s leadership and example so powerful is that his compassion runs so deep that it is inseparable from a spirit of service. A British Army general, Sir John Glubb, said he was convinced that the key to leadership lay in this gospel text: ‘The greatest among you must behave as if he were the youngest, the leader as if he were the one who serves … here am I among you as one who serves’ (Luke 22:26).
Because Jesus serves without seeking power, he himself empowers, he sets free others’ potential. The Good Shepherd is the one who has come that they may have life and have it to the full. The one who can claim, ‘I am the light of the world’ also says, ‘You are light for the world’. Jesus’s own summary blends compassion with apostolic mission: ‘Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimed to the poor…’ (Lk 7:20-22).
The demands of Christian leadership are high, but we will come closer to meeting them if we are people preoccupied with the compassion of Christ, speaking with the honesty of Christ, in a spirit of faith enlivened by our contemplation of Christ steadfastly walking towards Jerusalem, the city from which later he would send his disciples out on mission in the service of all nations. However, any Christian leader will do well to remember one thing more: in the scriptures the Kingdom of God is not built up by human beings. It grows from the soil below, watered by the Spirit, and it is given from above: de arriba – ‘all is grace’.
[1] A note on my references to the gospels: I will be quoting from all four gospels, and do so with an appreciation that the evangelists each have distinct theological slants and are not to be treated simply as biographers.
[2] Evangelii Nuntiandi,§76
[3] Mark 9:2-8; Matthew 17:1-8; Luke 9:28-36
[4] Nicholas King, The New Testament (Kevin Mayhew, 2004), p. 380.
[5] Dorothy L. Sayers, ‘Are Women Human?’ (1947).
and calling us to serve as your disciples.
as we use our gifts to serve you.
as we strive to bear witness
Amen.
Eucharistic Adoration - Devonport: Every Friday 10am - 12noon, concluding with Stations of the Cross and Angelus
Benediction with Adoration Devonport: - first Friday of each month.
Legion of Mary: Wednesdays 11am Sacred Heart Church Community Room, Ulverstone
Prayer Group: Charismatic Renewal – meetings will be held on Monday evenings in the Community Room, Ulverstone at 7pm.
Weekday Masses 13th - 16th June, 2017
Tuesday: 9.30am Penguin
Wednesday: 9.30am Latrobe
Thursday: 10:30am Karingal
Friday: 11:00am Mt St Vincent
Devonport
Sunday Mass: 8:30am Port Sorell
9:00am Ulverstone
10:30am Devonport
11:00am Sheffield
5:00pm Latrobe
Ministry Rosters 17th & 18th June, 2017
Devonport:
Readers: Vigil: P Douglas, T Douglas, B Paul
10:30am: A
Hughes, T Barrientos, P Piccolo
Ministers of Communion: Vigil T Muir, M
Davies, M Gerrand, M Kenney, D Peters, J Heatley
10.30am: B & N Mulcahy, L Hollister, K Hull, S
Samarakkody, R Batepola
Cleaners 16th
June: M & L
Tippett, A Berryman 23rd June: K.S.C.
Piety Shop 17th
June: H Thompson 18th June: O McGinley Flowers: M Breen
Mowing of Lawns
at Parish House for month of June: Tony Davies
Ulverstone:
Reader: E Cox Ministers of
Communion: E Reilly, M & K McKenzie, M O’Halloran
Cleaners: M
McKenzie, M Singh, N Pearce Flowers: E Beard Hospitality:
M & K McKenzie
Penguin:
Greeters: G & N Pearce Commentator: Readers: E Nickols, A Landers
Ministers of
Communion: J
Barker, T Clayton Liturgy: Penguin
Setting Up: E Nickols Care of Church: M Murray, E Nickols
Latrobe:
Reader: M Chan Ministers of Communion: P Marlow, M Eden Procession of Gifts: M Clarke
Port Sorell:
Readers: L Post, T Jeffries Ministers of Communion: P Anderson Cleaners/Flowers/Prep: C Howard
Readings this week
The Most Holy Trinity – Year A
First Reading: Exodus 34:4-6. 8-9
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 13:11-13
Gospel: John 3:16-18
PREGO REFLECTION:
I come to stillness in the presence of God.
I make a slow sign of the cross, in the name of the Trinity.
I make a slow sign of the cross, in the name of the Trinity.
During this week, I may find myself puzzling over the
mystery of God as Trinity.
It may help me, as I come to pray, to remember that there is a time for seeking understanding by thinking and reading, but in this time of stillness I enter into prayer in great trust that God will reveal himself to me in the way that is best for me.
It may help me, as I come to pray, to remember that there is a time for seeking understanding by thinking and reading, but in this time of stillness I enter into prayer in great trust that God will reveal himself to me in the way that is best for me.
I read the Gospel passage, imagining myself in Nicodemus’
company as he searches for Jesus in the darkness, looking for light.
What do we say to each other?
Perhaps I ponder: what am I really searching for in my life? I share with our Lord.
What do we say to each other?
Perhaps I ponder: what am I really searching for in my life? I share with our Lord.
I listen as Jesus explains to Nicodemus the truth about
himself. I notice what rises within me as I hear Jesus speak.
I may like to make Jesus’ words personal: God so loved (my
name)…
Father, you so loved me …
What do I notice now? I speak with Jesus as friend and saviour, or with our loving Father.
Father, you so loved me …
What do I notice now? I speak with Jesus as friend and saviour, or with our loving Father.
I end my prayer, perhaps in stillness and gratitude for
God’s love, or asking for whatever help or grace I need.
Glory be ….
Glory be ….
Readings next week
The Most Holy Body
and Blood of Christ (Corpus Christi) – Year A
First Reading: Deuteronomy 8:2-3, 14-16;
Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 10:16-17
Gospel: John 6:51-58
Pat Wood, Robert Windebank, Mary Hutchinson, Fr Laurie Bissett MSC, Victoria
Webb, Victor Slavin & …,
Let us pray for those who have died recently:
Chad Lewis, Barbara Kelley, Anne
Elliott, Joan Singline, June
Morris, Dorothy Hamilton, Earl Williams, Lourdes Lupango, Jean Horton, Peter
Hutchinson, Martin Healy, Fr Mark McGuinness, Anne Watson.
Let us pray for those whose anniversary occurs about this time: 7th – 13th June
Phyllis Revell, Delia Lynch, Angus Barton, Allan Cassidy, Judith Rigney, John Deegan, Colin Crowden, Flores McKenzie, Pat Malone, Eva Zvatora, Norah Astell,
Agnes Rose, Fr Wilfred Speers CP, Rose & Henry Forbes and Alison Herring. Also
Alex & Winifred Lohrey, Ken & Michael Lohrey, David Lawrie, Kevin
Hartnett, Jim Lowry and deceased relatives and friends of Lohrey, Finch and
Butler families.
May they rest in peace
Weekly Ramblings
I would like to begin my Ramblings this week buy expressing
my sincere thanks to everyone who did so much to make last Sunday’s Whole of
Parish Mass and Luncheon such a success. There were so many people who assisted
in so many and varied ways that it would be impossible to thank everyone
individually without omitting at least one person so I would hope that everyone
accepts this note as an expression of my thanks.
At the same time as it was a great success I would invite anyone, and everyone who might want to, to make comments about our celebration with suggestions for improvement in any and all areas of the day. I have some thoughts about what we might do to improve our gathering and celebration and I would welcome any of your thoughts.
Also during the week the Knights of the Southern Cross
attacked and defeated a hedge that run down the western side of the boundary of
the Parish House. Over the years this hedge had become an eyesore as well as
safety hazard – it grabbed anyone who walked by – and thanks to the KSC it is
no more. Well done guys and thanks.
Next Saturday in Burnie at 11am Fidelis Odousoro will be
ordained to the Diaconate. This is an opportunity for us to celebrate as a
Church and another occasion for us to pray for the growth of the Church in
Tasmania.
Our Parish Pastoral Council Meeting was postponed from last
Wednesday evening and will now be held this week. Thanks to everyone who prayed
for the meeting and the work of the PPC last week – if you were able to do it
again from 5.15pm this coming Wednesday that would also be appreciated.
Please take care on the roads and in your homes,
Mersey Leven Parish Community welcome and
congratulate
Kyan Bugeja, son of Aaron & Grace on his Baptism
this
weekend at Sacred Heart Church, Ulverstone.
ST VINCENT DE PAUL COLLECTION:
This weekend the St Vincent de Paul collection will be in
Devonport, Ulverstone, Port Sorell, Latrobe and Penguin to assist the work of
the St Vincent de Paul Society.
23 million people are currently
on the brink of famine in South Sudan and other areas of East Africa. Caritas
Australia and their partners are delivering life-saving food and water to
countries most in need. Caritas is one of the largest grassroots humanitarian
networks in the world and is currently providing emergency food, water and basic
medical care to those facing starvation and malnutrition. As followers of
Christ we are compelled to respond and act when our sisters and brothers are
suffering, recognising Christ in those without food. This crisis may be worse
than the famine in Ethiopia in the 1980s.
You can help deliver emergency relief by donating online www.caritas.org.au/foodcrisis or by calling 1800 024 413. Envelopes are also available from all Mass Centres
this weekend.
A reminder that the ‘Craft and
Cake Stall’ will be held this morning (Sunday) after 9am Mass in the Community
Room, Sacred Heart Church. Bring your spare change along and pick up some
delicious home cooking and home-made craft!
PLANNED GIVING PROGRAMME:
New envelopes are being distributed
during June. If you are not already part of this programme and would like to
join, or do not wish to continue giving, please contact the Parish office.
Please note: The new envelopes (Yellow in
colour) should not be used until starting date 2nd July, therefore once you start using them you need
to discard any old envelopes (pink in colour) – thank you!
BINGO - Thursday Nights - OLOL
Hall, Devonport. Eyes down 7.30pm! Callers for Thursday 15th
June – Rod Clark & Alan Luxton
NEWS FROM ACROSS THE ARCHDIOCESE:
WALK WITH CHRIST – Hobart City, Sunday 18th June 1:15pm to 3:00 pm.
Celebrate the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ by
walking with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament through the city of Hobart. Be at
St Joseph's Church (Harrington St) by 1.15 pm, and walk with us to St Mary's
Cathedral for Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and Benediction concluding at
3:00. There will be a 'cuppa' afterwards. If you can't do the walk
come to the Cathedral at 2:00 for prayer and Adoration. Experience our
rich Catholic heritage in solidarity with Catholics all over the world and
through the ages, by bearing public witness to our Lord and Saviour. Can't join
us in person? Prayer intentions written in the 'Book of Life' in your parish
will be taken in the procession and presented at the Cathedral.
THE JOURNEY CATHOLIC RADIO
PROGRAM:
This week on the Journey, Fr Richard Healey reflects on the
gospel of John on this very special Trinity Sunday. Sr Hilda shares her
wisdom from the Abbey on ‘Our Brokenness”, Bruce Downes, ‘The Catholic Guy’
encourages us with ‘Different Ways to Pray’, and Sam Clear reminds us about
‘Silence’ in his segment, Walking The Walk. Inspired by amazing Christian music
artists, we create a show for you that is all about faith, hope, love and life.
Go to www.jcr.org.au or www.itunes.jcr.org.au where you can
listen anytime and subscribe to weekly shows by email.
THE SEAMLESS GARMENT
The original of this article, by Fr Ron Rolheiser, can be found at here John of the Cross teaches that within spirituality and morality there are no exempt areas. Simply put, you cannot be a saint or a highly moral person if you allow yourself a moral exemption or two. Thus, I may not allow myself to split off one moral flaw or sinful habit and see it as unimportant in the light of my positive qualities and the overall good that I do. For John of the Cross, you cannot be a saint and have a moral blind-spot, even if it’s a minor one. A bird tethered to a rock, he says, cannot fly irrespective of whether the cord holding it is a cable or a string.
The same is true for our efforts to protect life and foster justice in our world. The protection of life and the promotion of justice are all of one piece. We cannot be an authentic prophet and have a few moral blind spots.
A huge consequence flows from this, namely, we cannot treat issues like abortion, nuclear war, lack of ecological sensitivity, the plight of refugees, racism, sexism, poverty and inequality, poor access to health care, unequal access to education, sexual irresponsibility, and discrimination against the LGBT community in isolation from each other, as if these were wholly discrete issues. Whether we admit it or not, these areas are all inextricably interconnected. To quote Cardinal Bernardin: “The success of any one of the issues concerning life requires a concern for the broader attitude in society about the respect for human life.” That’s a strong challenge for all of us, on all sides of the ideological spectrum.
Thus, those of us who are concerned about abortion need to accept that the problem of abortion cannot be effectively addressed without at the same time addressing issues of poverty, access to health care, sexual morality, and even capital punishment. The interconnection here is not wholly mystical. It’s real. Abortion is driven more by poverty and lack of adequate support than by any liberal ideology. Hence, the struggle against abortion must also focus on the issues of poverty and support for pregnant women. As well, to morally accept killing in one area (capital punishment) helps sanction its acceptance in another area (abortion). Sexual morality must also be addressed since abortion is the inevitable bi-product of a society within which two people who are not married to each other have sex with each other.
It’s all one piece, and any opposition to abortion that fails to adequately recognize the wider perspective that more fully defines Pro-life leaves many sincere people unable to support anti-abortion groups.
Conversely, those of us who are concerned with the issues of poverty, health-care, capital punishment, ecology, war, racism, sexism, and LGBT rights, need to accept that these issues cannot be effectively addressed without also addressing the issue of abortion. Again, the interconnection isn’t just mystical, it’s empirical: Failure to be sensitive to who is weak and vulnerable in one area deeply compromises one’s moral standing on other issues that deal with the weak and the vulnerable. We must advocate for and strive to protect everyone who falls victim within our present way of living, and that includes the unborn.
It’s all of one piece! There can be no exempt areas, thus opposition to the protection of the unborn is not just antithetical to what’s central within a social justice agenda, but it, perhaps more than anything else, leaves liberal ideology and its political allies compromised in a way that allows many sincere people to withhold their support.
Clearly, of course, nobody is asked to give equal energy to every justice issue in the world. Accepting that none of these issues can be effectively dealt within isolation shouldn’t stop us from passionately working on one issue or another. But knowing that these issues are all of one piece does demand that we always recognize that, however important our particular issue, we may not see it in simple black and white, without nuance, as an issue that can be dealt with within one ideological, political, or religious silo. We must always be sensitive to the whole, to the big picture, to the intricate interconnections among all these social issues.
And, not least, we must be humble before and sensitive to our own moral inconsistencies.
We will, this side of eternity, always have them and we must forgive ourselves for them and not let perfection, that fact we can’t be fully consistent, be the enemy of the good, that fact that we can do some good work that is effective. But acknowledging both our own inconsistencies and the complexities of the issues should make us more open to listening to the views of others and make us less doctrinaire and fundamentalist in our own attitudes.
All the issues that deal with justice and peace, are of one piece, one whole, one moral corpus, one seamless garment; and, like the soldiers casting dice for Jesus’ clothing, we should hesitate to tear this garment into different pieces.
Jesus as Scapegoat
This article is a collation from the Daily email series sent by Fr Richard Rohr OFM. You can subscribe to these emails by clicking here
The Scapegoat
Mechanism
As I mentioned last week, Jesus on the cross echoes three
healing images: the Passover lamb, the “Lifted-Up One,” and the scapegoat
ritual. The third symbol deserves a deeper exploration because it is central to
understanding how Jesus resets the pattern of history. We’ll spend this week
looking at Jesus as scapegoat before we move on to the promise of resurrection.
Humans have always struggled to deal with fear and evil by
ways other than forgiveness, most often through sacrificial systems.
Philosopher René Girard (1923-2015) saw the tendency to scapegoat others as the
primary story line of human history in every culture. [1] Why? Because it
works, and it is largely an immediate and an unconscious egoic response. The
scapegoat mechanism was ritualized by the Israelites, as we’ll see tomorrow
(see Leviticus 16:20-22).
If your ego is still in charge, you will find a “disposable”
person or group on which to project your problems. People who haven’t come to
at least a minimal awareness of their own dark side will always find someone
else to hate or fear. Hatred holds a group together much more quickly and
easily than love and inclusivity, I am sorry to say. Something has to be
sacrificed. Blood has to be shed. Someone has to be blamed, attacked, tortured,
imprisoned, or killed. Sacrificial systems create religions and governments of
exclusion and violence. Yet Jesus taught and modeled inclusivity and
forgiveness!
Sadly, the history of violence and the history of religion
are almost the same history. When religion remains at the immature level, it
tends to create very violent people who ensconce themselves on the side of the
good, the worthy, the pure, the saved. They project all their evil somewhere
else and attack it over there. At this level, they export the natural death
instinct onto others, as though it’s someone else who has to die.
As long as you can deal with evil by some means other than
forgiveness, you will never experience the real meaning of evil and sin. You will
keep projecting, fearing, and attacking it over there, instead of “gazing” on
it within and “weeping” over it within yourself and all of us. The longer you
gaze, the more you will see your own complicity in and profitability from the
sin of others, even if it is the satisfaction of feeling you are on higher
moral ground. Forgiveness demands three new simultaneous “seeings”: I must see
God in the other; I must access God in myself; and I must experience God in a
new way that is larger than an “Enforcer.”
References:
[1] I highly recommend James Alison’s exploration of René
Girard’s work, particularly Alison’s four-part study series Jesus the Forgiving
Victim: Listening for the Unheard Voice (DOERS Publishing: 2013),
http://www.forgivingvictim.com/.
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as
Spirituality (Franciscan Media: 2008), 193-194.
The Myth of Redemptive
Violence
Leviticus 16 describes the ingenious ritual from which our
word “scapegoating” originated. On the Day of Atonement, a priest laid hands on
an “escaping” goat, placing all the sins of the Jewish people from the previous
year onto the animal. Then the goat was beaten with reeds and thorns and driven
out into the desert. And the people went home rejoicing, just as European
Christians did after burning a supposed heretic at the stake, or white
Americans did after the lynching of black men. Whenever the “sinner” is
excluded, our ego is delighted and feels relieved and safe. It sort of works,
but only for a while. Usually the illusion only deepens and becomes catatonic,
blind, and repetitive—because of course, scapegoating did not really work to
eliminate the evil in the first place.
Jesus became the scapegoat to reveal the universal lie of
scapegoating. Note that John the Baptist said, “Behold the Lamb of God, who
takes away the sin [singular] of the world” (John 1:29). It seems “the sin of
the world” is ignorant hatred, fear, and legitimated violence.
The Gospel is a highly subversive document. It painstakingly
illustrates how the systems of both church and state (Caiaphas and Pilate)
conspired to condemn Jesus. Throughout most of history, church and state have
both sought plausible scapegoats to carry their own shame and guilt.
Jesus became the sinned-against one to reveal the hidden nature
of scapegoating and so that we would see how wrong people in authority can
be—even religious important people (see John 16:8-11 and Romans 8:3). The
scapegoat mechanism largely operates in the unconscious; people do not know
what they are doing. Scapegoaters do not know they are scapegoating, but they
think they are doing a “holy duty for God” (John 16:2). You see why inner work,
shadow work, and honest self-knowledge are all essential to any healthy
religion.
In worshiping Jesus as the scapegoat, Christians should have
learned to stop scapegoating. We too could be utterly wrong about choosing
victims, just as high priest and king, Jerusalem and Rome—the highest levels of
authority—were utterly wrong about Jesus. Power itself is not a good guide, yet
for many, if not most people, authority soothes their anxiety and relieves
their own responsibility to form a mature conscience.
Millions of soldiers have given their only lives by
believing the lies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, Stalin, Pol Pot, and Hitler, to
name a few. The vast majority of violence in history has been sacralized
violence. Members of ISIS probably believe they are doing God’s will. The Ku
Klux Klan uses the cross as their symbol!
With God on our side, our violence becomes necessary and
even “redemptive violence.” But there is no such thing as redemptive violence.
Violence doesn’t save; it only destroys in both short and long term. Jesus
replaced the myth of redemptive violence with the truth of redemptive
suffering. He showed us on the cross how to hold the pain and let it transform
us, rather than pass it on to the others around us.
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, CONSPIRE 2016: Everything
Belongs, sessions 2 and 3 (CAC: 2016), MP4 video download.
Avoiding
Transformation
It seems we always find some way to avoid the transformation
of our pain. There’s the common way of fight. Fighters are looking for the
evildoer, the sinner, the unjust one, the oppressor, the bad person “over
there.” He or she “righteously” attacks, hates, or even kills the wrong-doer,
while feeling heroic for doing so (see John 16:2). We are all tempted to
project our problem on someone or something else rather than dealing with it in
ourselves.
The zealot—and we’ve all been one at different times—is
actually relieved by having someone to hate, because it takes away our inner
shame and anxiety and provides a false sense of innocence. As long as the evil
is “over there” and we can keep our focus on changing or expelling someone else
(as the contaminating element), then we feel at peace. But this is not the
peace of Christ, which “the world cannot give” (see John 14:27).
Playing the victim is another way to deal with pain
indirectly. You blame someone else, and your pain becomes your personal ticket
to power because it gives you a false sense of moral superiority and outrage.
You don’t have to grow up, let go, forgive, or surrender—you just have to
accuse someone else of being worse than you are. And sadly, that becomes your
very fragile identity, which always needs more reinforcement.
The other common way to avoid the path of transformation is
the way of flight or denial. It can take many forms. Those with the instinct to
flee will often deny or ignore pain by naively dividing the world up through
purity codes and worthiness systems. They keep the problem on the level of
words, ideas, and absolute laws separating good and evil. They refuse to live
in the real world of shadow and paradox. They divide the world into total good
guys and complete bad guys, a comfortable but untrue worldview of black and
white. This approach comprises most fundamentalist and early stage religion. It
refuses to carry the cross of imperfection, failure, and sin in itself. It is
always others who must be excluded so I can be pure and holy. Denial is an
understandable—but false—way of coping and surviving. Yet it is often the only
way that many people can deal with the complexity of their human situation.
All of these patterns perpetuate pain and violence rather
than bringing true healing. Jesus took the more difficult path: to know the
depths of suffering and sin and yet to forgive reality for being what it is.
That is the Third Way, beyond fight and flight, and yet in a subtle sense
including both of them. Only the Spirit can teach us the paradox of Jesus’
death and resurrection, the pattern of all growth, change, and transformation.
It is equally hard to trust both sides—the dying itself and the promised new
state.
References:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, “Jesus: Forgiving Victim,
Transforming Savior,” Richard Rohr on Transformation, Collected Talks, Vol. 1,
disc 1 (Franciscan Media: 1997); and
Richard Rohr with John Feister, Hope Against Darkness: The
Transforming Vision of Saint Francis in an Age of Anxiety (Franciscan Media:
2001), 19-20, 22-24.
Forgiving Victim
In terms of the soul, no one else is your problem. You are
invariably your primary problem. You are always the locus of conversion and
transformation. I believe the message of the crucified Jesus is a statement
about what to do with your pain. It’s primarily a message of transformation,
and not a transaction to “open the gates of heaven,” unless you are talking
about being drawn into heaven right now. For some unfortunate reason,
Christians have usually “used” Jesus as a mere problem solver, one who would
protect us personally from pain later. That kept us in a very small,
self-centered world. The big loss was that we missed Jesus’ message of how to
let God transform us and our world here and now.
The book of Revelation presents the paradoxical image of a
Lamb who is simultaneously slaughtered and standing, victim and victorious at
the same time (see Revelation 5:6 and throughout). This is the transformative
mystery in iconic form. We must put together these two seeming opposites in our
own life.
Was God trying to solve a problem through what looked like
the necessary death of Jesus? Or was God trying to reveal something central
about the nature of God? Christians have historically taught that God was
saving us from our sins. Maybe an even better way to say it is that Jesus was
saving us through our sins. As Paul says with great subtlety, Jesus “became sin
that we might become the very goodness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). In other
words, Jesus becomes the problem to show us how to resolve the problem.
We are generally inclined to either create victims of others
or play the victim ourselves, both of which are no solution but only perpetuate
the problem. Jesus instead holds the pain—even becomes the pain—until it
transforms him into a higher state, which we rightly call the risen life.
The crucified and resurrected Jesus shows us how to do this
without denying, blaming, or projecting pain elsewhere. In fact, there is no
“elsewhere.” Jesus is the victim in an entirely new way because he receives our
hatred and does not return it, nor does he play the victim for his own
empowerment. We find no self-pity or resentment in Jesus. He never asks his
followers to avenge his murder. He suffers and does not make others suffer
because of it. He does not use his suffering and death as power over others to
punish them, but as power for others to transform them.
Jesus is the forgiving victim, which really is the only hope
of our world, because most of us sooner or later will be victimized on some
level. It is the familiar story line of an unjust and often cruel humanity. The
cross is a healing message about the violence of humanity, and we tragically
turned it into the violence of God, who we thought needed "a
sacrifice" to love us.
An utterly new attitude (Spirit) has been released in
history; it’s a spirit of love, compassion, and forgiveness. As Jesus prayed on
the cross, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).
References:
Adapted from Richard Rohr “Jesus: Forgiving Victim,
Transforming Savior,” Richard Rohr on Transformation, Collected Talks, Vol. 1,
disc 1 (Franciscan Media: 1997); and
Richard Rohr with John Feister, Hope Against Darkness: The
Transforming Vision of Saint Francis in an Age of Anxiety (St. Anthony
Messenger Press: 2001), 22-23.
Love, Not Atonement
All the great religions of the world talk a lot about death,
so there must be an essential lesson to be learned here. But throughout much of
religious history our emphasis has been on killing the wrong thing and avoiding
the truth: it’s you who has to die, or rather, who you think you are—your false
self. It's never someone else!
Historically we moved from human sacrifice to animal
sacrifice to various modes of seeming self-sacrifice, usually involving the
body. For many religions, including immature Christianity, God was distant and
scary, an angry deity who must be placated. God was not someone with whom you
fell in love or with whom you could imagine sharing intimacy or tenderness.
The common Christian reading of the Bible is that Jesus
“died for our sins”—either to pay a debt to the devil (common in the first
millennium) or to pay a debt to God the Father (proposed by Anselm of
Canterbury, 1033-1109). Theologians later developed a “substitutionary
atonement theory”—the strange idea that before God could love us God needed and
demanded Jesus to be a blood sacrifice to ''atone'' for our sin. As a result,
our theology became more transactional than transformational.
Franciscan philosopher and theologian John Duns Scotus
(1266-1308) was not guided by the Temple language of debt, atonement, or blood
sacrifice (understandably used in the New Testament written by observant Jews).
He was instead inspired by the cosmic hymns in the first chapters of Colossians
and Ephesians and the first chapter of John's Gospel. For Duns Scotus, the
incarnation of God and the redemption of the world could never be a mere mop-up
exercise in response to human sinfulness, but the proactive work of God from
the very beginning. We were “chosen in Christ before the world was made”
(Ephesians 1:4). Our sin could not possibly be the motive for the divine
incarnation; rather, God’s motivation was infinite divine love and full
self-revelation! For Duns Scotus, God never merely reacts, but always freely
acts out of free and unmerited love.
Jesus did not come to change the mind of God about humanity
(it did not need changing)! Jesus came to change the mind of humanity about
God. God’s abundance and compassion make any scarcity economy of merit or
atonement unhelpful and unnecessary. Jesus undid “once and for all” (Hebrews
7:27; 9:12; 10:10) all notions of human and animal sacrifice and replaced them
with his new infinite economy of grace. Jesus was meant to be a game changer
for religion and the human psyche.
This grounds Christianity in love and freedom from the very
beginning; it creates a very coherent and utterly attractive religion, which
draws people toward lives of inner depth, prayer, reconciliation, healing, and
universal “at-one-ment,” instead of mere sacrificial atonement. Nothing
“changed” on Calvary but everything was revealed—an eternally outpouring love.
Jesus switched the engines of history: instead of us needing to spill blood to
get to God, we have God spilling blood to get to us!
References:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Eager to Love: The Alternative
Way of Francis of Assisi (Franciscan Media: 2014), 183-188;
“Dying: We Need It for Life,” Richard Rohr on
Transformation, Collected Talks, Vol. 1, disc 4 (Franciscan Media: 1997); and
Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality (Franciscan Media:
2008), 202.
Cross as Agenda
In terms of healing and symbolism, everything hinges on the
cross. The cross is about how to fight and not become a casualty yourself. The
cross is about being the victory instead of just winning a victory. The cross
is about refusing the simplistic win-lose scenario and holding out for a
possible win-win scenario.
The cross clearly says that evil is to be opposed but we
must first hold the tension, ambiguity, and pain of it. “Resist evil and overcome
it with good,” as Paul says (Romans 12:21). The cross moves us from the rather
universal myth of redemptive violence to a new scenario of transformative
suffering.
On the cross of life, we accept our own complicity and
cooperation with evil, instead of imagining ourselves on some pedestal of moral
superiority. As Paul taught: “everyone has sinned” (Romans 5:12) and Jesus the
Lamb of God had the humility to “become sin” (2 Corinthians 5:21) with us.
The mystery of the cross teaches us how to stand against
hate without becoming hate, how to oppose evil without becoming evil ourselves.
Can you feel yourself stretching in both directions—toward God’s goodness and
also toward recognition of your own complicity in evil? If you look at yourself
at that moment, you will feel crucified. You hang in between, without
resolution, your very life a paradox, held in hope by God (see Romans 8:23-25).
The goal of God's work is always healing reconciliation, not
retributive justice. And like Jesus, we
must invest ourselves in this work of reconciliation that “the two might become
one” (see Ephesians 2:13-18).
Human existence is neither perfectly consistent, nor is it
total chaos, but it has a "cruciform" shape of cross purposes, always
needing to be reconciled in us. To hold the contradictions with God, with
Jesus, is to participate in the redemption of the world (Colossians 1:24). We
all must forgive reality for being what it is. We can’t do this alone, but only
by a deep identification with the Crucified One and with crucified humanity.
Christ then "carries" us across!
The risen, victorious Jesus gives us a history and hopeful
future that moves beyond predictable violence. He destroys death and sin not by
canceling it out; but by making a trophy of it. Think about that for a long
time until it cracks you open. And it will!
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as
Spirituality (Franciscan Media: 2008), 203-205.
KNOW YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD
This article is taken from the blog by Fr Michael White, Pastor of the Church of the Nativity, Baltimore. The original blog can be found here
This week we are in Austria for a Rebuilt Conference. We love our friends and partners here and greatly enjoy working with parishes in this beautiful country.
Today we took the morning to visit one of the most popular tourist attractions here, the Schonbrunn Palace, the home of the Hapsburg monarchs and their family. It is a breathtakingly beautiful place.
It is also an object lesson in leadership. Built in stages over centuries, it was alternately a quiet retreat, hunting lodge, summer palace, and eventually principle and preferred residence for the Emperor. It is not in Vienna, it’s outside Vienna, well outside. It’s safely outside, a cocoon of privilege and pleasure intended to be completely removed from the realities of the rest of the capital. A strange way to rule for sure, but not unknown in European history. The Russian Tsars did the same thing at Tsarskoye-Selo, their palace complex outside St. Petersburg, and, of course, the French kings did it at Versailles. These dynasties all have something else in common. None of them exist today.
As I was touring the splendid spaces of Schonbrunn, I couldn’t help but think of many churches I have visited. Beautiful, sometimes exquisitely beautiful buildings designed for the edification and inspiration of the people in the pews. And carefully isolated from the community around them. And some of the parish staff I’ve met serve just like museum curators, or palace retainers, seeking to serve pampered parishioners.
That’s not leadership and it’s not what we’re suppose to be doing in our church.
Healthy, growing parishes, need to know their neighborhoods, they need to be a part of the life of the community and actively involved in the transformation of their communities.
Otherwise, however beautiful our churches, we’re doomed for disappointment, as the Hapsburg’s learned a long time ago.
A Reflection on Jesus’s Leadership
What qualities do we look for in a good leader? How can we become better leaders ourselves? Thinking Faith invited Thomas Shufflebotham SJ to guide us in a prayerful reflection on just three of the innumerable qualities of Jesus that any good Christian leader should seek to emulate. Thomas Shufflebotham SJ directs the Spiritual Exercises at St Beuno’s Jesuit Spirituality Centre in North Wales and the original article can be found here
It is striking that in the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius attaches virtually no adjectives to Jesus. He seems content to have us watch the Lord’s actions and ponder some of his words, but for the most part he leaves it to us to imagine the characteristics and qualities of Christ as we are moved to do so: that is to say, he leaves it to us and the Holy Spirit.
On the other hand, one could go on forever naming qualities and facets of Jesus Christ as he passes through the pages of the gospels.[1] The compilers of the Litanies of the Holy Name and of the Sacred Heart were not short of ideas. Many of those adjectives have a bearing on his leadership.
For now, I want to pick out from the plethora of possibilities three attributes of Jesus which seem to me to be central to Christian leadership, three Christ-centred approaches which I suspect Ignatius might stress were he to walk through the door into our century and its challenges.
Authenticity
First, I suggest authenticity and what it implies: honesty, truthfulness, integrity, or – a word favoured by Ignatius – probity.
Jesus teaches by word and example, and what he says and does are in perfect harmony with who he is. Jesus is truth, Jesus tells the truth and, while he may not distance himself from hypocrites, the gospels time and again show him distancing himself from hypocrisy. He does not twist or manipulate the truth.
President Eisenhower claimed that ‘the supreme quality for leadership is unquestionably integrity’. More informally, the jazz musician Charlie Parker said, ‘If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn’. With words that still speak volumes to us today, Pope Paul VI wrote in 1975: ‘Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty.’[2]
Forty years on, it is even clearer that manipulating or stifling the truth can do immense harm, both because it does not work and because it is a contradiction of Christianity. It is not the way of Jesus. It rings true when Jesus says, ‘If your eye is clear, your whole body will be filled with light’ (Matt 6: 22).
Jesus’s gaze is on God, he refers all to the Father; his leadership therefore is not self-regarding. His disciples and companions, too, will be true and honest if they focus on God rather than self. That will require sincere prayer, prayer in which we give God the freedom to show us the opposite of what suits our convenience, the freedom to shatter our preferences. And, to use an Ignatian word, the heart of our prayer needs to be conversation or colloquy that is sincere: I need to be willing to look God in the eye, to meet God’s gaze.
When Peter cures a cripple he tells him, ‘In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, walk’ (Acts 3:6; earlier, perhaps, he might have been tempted to garner the credit). Likewise, the Christian community always gathers in the name of Jesus, not in its own name. A Christian community that does not focus on Jesus soon begins to become its own master, to use others for its own convenience and to descend into hypocrisy: it is not authentic.
Jesus breathes dignity, but without seeking it. He attracted his companions with honesty, not by concealing the challenges but by stating them clearly. ‘Whoever does the truth comes out into the light, so that what he is doing may plainly appear as done in God’ (Jn 3:21).
Walking on in faith
A second approach to leadership that Jesus elicits from his followers and companions could be summed up as walking on in faith. That is implying that as we keep step with Christ we gaze ahead, but without ignoring or downplaying the past; and all in a spirit of faith and courage, imitating Jesus who, says Luke, ‘resolutely turned his face towards Jerusalem’ (Luke 9:51).
Jesus reverenced the Law and the prophets; at the Transfiguration he is seen conversing with Moses and Elijah[3]: he comes to fulfil the Law. Even after the Resurrection his followers are still treasuring Israel’s heritage. But Jesus also speaks of new wine and new wineskins.
The risen Lord challenges the travellers on the road to Emmaus to draw inspiration from their tradition, but also to walk with him into the future:
‘So slow to believe all that the prophets have said! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer - before entering into his glory?’ (Luke 24:26).
His disciple Peter looks backwards to the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth and the Resurrection event, and he preaches out of past experience: ‘We are witnesses’, he says, ‘of everything that he did’. But that same faith and respect for the tradition leads Peter to accept the new vision for the future which the Holy Spirit begins to show him at the house of a Gentile centurion. (Acts 10:1-48) To Simon Bar-Jonah some years earlier, it would have been unthinkable, and in any case he would have lacked the courage. Peter’s leadership had to imbibe courage from his leader, Jesus. St Bernard summed it up neatly when he described the Church as, Ecclesia ante et retro occulata: the Church must have eyes for what is ahead and what is past.
Jesus’s leadership was infectious once the Spirit was given to the infant church, and Acts of the Apostles shows us his disciples walking courageously the thin line of fidelity to tradition combined with fidelity to the Spirit urging them into new paths. Either component could land them in persecution and vicious criticism. Holding to both – the old and the new - could be a crucifixion.
The compassion of Christ
I suggest that a third key also is necessary: the compassion of Christ. With authenticity and faith alone we can be impressive but impossible to live with. Being genuine companions implies this extra dimension, this third key, this love infused with empathy. When it is applied to choices, decisions, policy, it becomes Ignatius’s discerning love: discreta caritas.
In this, our inspiration is the example of Christ just as the grace of Christ is our strength, and he challenges us to ‘Be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate’ (Luke 6:36).
A model for this compassion is found in Paul’s rhapsody on love in 1 Corinthians. As we read it we could imagine it as spoken to us – as of course it is:
And now I’m going to show you a way that is even more outstanding. If I speak in the languages of human beings and of angels, but do not have love, then I have turned into a sounding brass or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy, and I know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have complete faith, so as to move mountains, but have no love, I am nothing. And if I divide all my possessions into bits, and if I hand over my body in order that I may boast, but do not have love, I am not helped in any way.
Love waits patiently, shows kindness. Love is not jealous, does not brag, is not ‘puffed up’, does not behave improperly, does not seek self- interest, doesn’t get provoked, doesn’t reckon up evil, doesn’t rejoice at injustice, but rejoices at integrity.
Love copes with everything; is always committed, always hopeful, always endures to the end; love never collapses (1 Cor 12:31 – 13:8).
Commenting on this, his own translation of the passage, Nicholas King SJ writes: ‘this “solution” to the problems of Corinth could also be read as Paul’s portrait of his beloved Jesus Christ. With Paul it always comes back to Jesus’.[4] And for companions of Jesus, too, it must always come back to Jesus.
God’s compassion, incarnate in Jesus, embraces the crowd. He had compassion on the multitude (Mark 6:34) and he longed and longed to gather Jerusalem and her children together as a hen gathers her chicks; he died ‘to gather together into one the scattered children of God’ (John 11:52), having prayed beforehand ‘that they may all be one’ (John 17:21).
And equally, that compassion embraces the individual, be it the woman at Simon’s feast, or a leper, or a poor widow, or a rich young man; indeed every human being with a heart open to accept it.
The characteristic backdrop for Jesus’s leadership is not an auditorium or a parade-ground, but a meal. When he imparts leadership to Peter it is in the imagery of shepherding: a preference for the intimate and the personal touch rather than dragooning.
Jesus’s style of leadership – a style without a style – vaults over the centuries and addresses the needs of our time. Nowhere is this more evident than in his attitude to women. Dorothy L. Sayers remarks,
[Women] had never known a man like this Man – there never has been such another. A prophet and teacher who never nagged at them, never flattered or coaxed or patronised … who rebuked without querulousness and praised without condescension … never urged them to be feminine, or jeered at them for being female; with no axe to grind and no uneasy male dignity to defend.[5]
Mary Ward, Mary McAleese, Elizabeth II: none of them have had much power exactly, but they have exercised leadership, and it is clear that in large measure Christ’s attitude and values are their model.
What makes Jesus’s leadership and example so powerful is that his compassion runs so deep that it is inseparable from a spirit of service. A British Army general, Sir John Glubb, said he was convinced that the key to leadership lay in this gospel text: ‘The greatest among you must behave as if he were the youngest, the leader as if he were the one who serves … here am I among you as one who serves’ (Luke 22:26).
Because Jesus serves without seeking power, he himself empowers, he sets free others’ potential. The Good Shepherd is the one who has come that they may have life and have it to the full. The one who can claim, ‘I am the light of the world’ also says, ‘You are light for the world’. Jesus’s own summary blends compassion with apostolic mission: ‘Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimed to the poor…’ (Lk 7:20-22).
The demands of Christian leadership are high, but we will come closer to meeting them if we are people preoccupied with the compassion of Christ, speaking with the honesty of Christ, in a spirit of faith enlivened by our contemplation of Christ steadfastly walking towards Jerusalem, the city from which later he would send his disciples out on mission in the service of all nations. However, any Christian leader will do well to remember one thing more: in the scriptures the Kingdom of God is not built up by human beings. It grows from the soil below, watered by the Spirit, and it is given from above: de arriba – ‘all is grace’.
[1] A note on my references to the gospels: I will be quoting from all four gospels, and do so with an appreciation that the evangelists each have distinct theological slants and are not to be treated simply as biographers.
[2] Evangelii Nuntiandi,§76
[3] Mark 9:2-8; Matthew 17:1-8; Luke 9:28-36
[4] Nicholas King, The New Testament (Kevin Mayhew, 2004), p. 380.
[5] Dorothy L. Sayers, ‘Are Women Human?’ (1947).
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