Easter Week I

Easter in Paris. With my family. Marvelous. Wonderful. Frigid. Yes, the coldest winter I ever spent was spring in Paris--with apologies to Mark Twain. But really I should not complain. It is a blessing to be here, and to spend time with my beautiful daughter, who is studying abroad for a semester.

There is much to love about Paris. No surprise there. A highlight was Easter Mass at the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Yes, that Notre Dame. Prior to Mass, there was a magnificent half-hour of Gregorian chant for Lauds. The music was outstanding and memorable. For Mass, the Cardinal presided. It is so moving to attend Mass in a foreign country--even when one does not understand the language. It brings to my mind that Catholics all over the world were hearing the same readings, saying the same prayers, and celebrating the same astounding, impossible event--the Resurrection of the God-made-man. Somehow, it felt more devotional and more reverent than the Good Friday veneration of the crown of thorns.

At the end of Mass, the new bells of Notre Dame were rung. The bells were just recently replaced, as part of the 850th anniversary of Notre Dame. Apparently, they had been out of tune for years, if not centuries. These new bells made an unforgettable sound that resonated within the church and outside for blocks around. 

We followed with a delicious luncheon at Chez Julien just across the Seine to cap off a very moving and memorable morning.

Joshua 9-12

The story of the Israelites' conquest of the Promised Land continues, as, with God's help, they engage and defeat 31 kings and their kingdoms. In doing so, they overcome superior numbers and a number of confederations among kings. And at the Lord's instruction, they slaughter every man, woman and child in those kingdoms (save Rahab and her family, as noted previously). What a horrifying swath of bloodshed they cut through the land. I understand that at some level this must be a metaphor for the ultimate triumph of God's kingdom, for the importance of trusting in Him and being "firm and steadfast." But it also reads like a remorseless and sickening annihilation. I just don't know what to make of it, honestly. It plays into my own fear that, as a sinner, if I stray too far from God, I might be viewed as one of these enemy kingdoms--outside the walls of His protection. Jesus, by His death and Resurrection, is the new covenant that God has promised us--promised me. And I do believe it. But reading passages like this still really scares me.         

Numbers 8-10:10

Shortly before the Israelites set out from Sinai, the Lord instructs them in the purification of the Levites, the priests who are dedicated to the Lord. What I love about this passage is that God calls on the entire community of Israelites to gather and to lay hands upon the Levites to purify and sanctify them in their service to the Lord. There is a vital link between serving God and serving the community--they are completely intertwined. It is true today of the religious and the priesthood, but also true for all of us who are called by God in love, whatever our vocation. Love and service for God and for our neighbor are in many ways indistinguishable. Chapter 9 closes with another description of the fiery cloud that has guided the Israelites, and which will continue to guide them on their journey to the promised land. The cloud is God's message and instruction to the Israelites about the timing and path of their journey. 

Thus, it was always at the bidding of the Lord that they encamped, and at his bidding that they set out; ever heeding the charge of the Lord.

God wants to guide me and direct me on my own journey to the promised land, to salvation. I pray that I am able to see His Will for me as clearly as the Israelites were able to see the fiery cloud, and that, when I see it, I have the courage to follow.

One last thought here. It is fitting, and likely a very direct message to me, that I am reading this passage today, Ash Wednesday. Like the Israelites, the Church and I myself, embark today on 40 days in the desert of Lent on our way to the promised land of the Resurrection. I hope that I am able to make this a meaningful journey of preparation. But for today at least I will try to remember that I am indeed dust, and to dust I shall return, and I will strive to repent and make straight the way of the Lord.

BXVI Resigns

I had not intended to make this a current events or "issues of the day" blog, but I do feel compelled to comment on yesterday's stunning news that BXVI is resigning as of the end of February. Most news outlets are reporting that his is the first Papal resignation since 1415, but that is a bit misleading. In 1415, there was in effect a civil war on, with competing claimants to the Papacy. That Pope's resignation was not exactly voluntary, as he was on the losing side. One must go back several more centuries to Celestine V for the last truly voluntary resignation. Celestine V was essentially a hermit who had been (to his surprise) elected to be Pope. He lasted only five months. During that time, he was responsible for only a few acts, one being the issuance of a decree that establishes the Pope's right to resign from office, a right he then exercised so that he could return to a life of solitude and prayer. 

What to make of yesterday's news? Too soon to tell, I guess. I believe that the Holy Spirit works always through the Church, and so I trust and hope that God is working through these events for the betterment of the faith and of all of us. The Vatican assured us that the Pope's decision came after much prayer and examination of conscience. I do hope so. Interesting that our time without a Pope will coincide with Lent, a time of doing without and journeying toward the Resurrection. Let us see what the journey brings us.

Exodus 8:16-11:10

The story of Moses continues with the remaining seven plagues brought on by Pharaoh's obstinate refusal to accede to God's request, communicated through Moses and Aaron, that the Israelites be allowed to leave Egypt to worship God. The pattern was so familiar from plague to plague that it started to get tiresome. Moses makes request; Pharaoh denies request;  Moses threatens plague; Pharaoh still denies request; plague comes; Pharaoh gives in; Moses ends plague; Pharaoh breaks promise. But then suddenly I saw myself in the Pharaoh. God shows me the way--through the Word, through the Church, through the love of those around me; I promise to walk more closely in the path He calls me to; I wander off or get distracted and forget my promise; I feel lost; rinse and repeat. It particularly hit home during the plague of darkness, when the Egyptians could see nothing, not even the people around them. Like me when I wander off from God and forget Him. Interesting that the darkness lasts three days, like the darkness the Earth was in when Jesus died and descended into Hell, before the Resurrection. By the way, isn't it a fascinating notion that Jesus descended into Hell? It is in the Apostle's Creed although not in the Nicene Creed that we recite at Mass. I am intrigued by that visit to Hell, by what it could have been like for Jesus, and what it was meant to accomplish.