IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI
In his farewell speech in John’s Gospel, Jesus tells us that he is going away but that he will leave us a parting gift, the gift of his peace, and that we will experience this gift in the spirit he leaves behind.

How does this work? How do we leave peace and a spirit behind us as we go?

This is not something abstract, but something we experience (perhaps only unconsciously) all the time in all our relationships. It works this way. Each of us brings a certain energy into every relationship we have, and when we walk into a room, that energy in some way affects what everyone else in the room is feeling. Moreover, it will stay with them after we leave. We leave a spirit behind us.

For example, if I enter a room and my person and presence radiate positive energy: trust, stability, gratitude, concern for others, joy in living, wit, and humor, that energy will affect everyone in the room and will remain with them after I have left the room, as the spirit that I leave behind. Conversely, even though my words might try to say the contrary, if my person and presence radiate negative energy: anger, jealousy, bitterness, lying, or chaos, everyone will sense that, and that negative energy will remain with them after I leave, coloring everything I have left behind.

Sigmund Freud once suggested that we understand things the clearest when we see them broken, and that is true here. We see this writ large, for instance, in the case of how a long-term alcoholic parent affects his children. Despite trying not to do so, he will invariably bring a certain instability, distrust, and chaos into his family, and it will stay there after he is gone, as the spirit he leaves behind, short-term and long-term. His person and his presence will trigger a feeling of distrust and chaos, and the memory of him will do the same.

The same is true in reverse vis-à-vis those who bring positive energy, stability and trust, into a room. Unfortunately, often at the time, we do not sense the real gift that these persons bring and what that gift does for us. Mostly it is felt as an unspoken energy, not consciously perceived, and only later in our lives (often long after the persons who did that for us are gone) do we recognize and consciously appreciate what their presence did for us. This is true for me when I think back on the safety and stability of the home that my parents provided for me. As child, I sometimes longed for more exciting parents and naively felt safety and stability more as boredom than as a gift. Years later, long after I had left home and learned from others how starved they were as kids for safety and stability, I recognized the great gift my parents had given me. Whatever their human shortcomings, they provided my siblings and me with a stable and safe place within which to grow up. They died while we were still young, but they left us the gift of peace. I suspect the same is true for many of you.

This dynamic (wherein we bring either stability or chaos into a room) is something which daily colors every relationship we have and is particularly true regarding the spirit we will leave behind us when we die. Death clarifies things, washes things clean, especially regarding how we are remembered and how our legacy affects our loved ones. When someone close to us dies, our relationship to him or her will eventually wash clean and we will know exactly the gift or burden that he or she was in our lives. It may take some time, perhaps months, perhaps years, but we will eventually receive the spirit he or she left behind with clarity and know it as gift or burden.

And so, we need to take seriously the fact that our lives belong not just to us but also to others. Likewise, our deaths do not belong only to us, but also to our families, our loved ones, and the world. We are meant to give both our lives and our deaths to others as gift. If this is true, then our dying is something that will impart either a gift or a burden to those who know us.

To paraphrase Henri Nouwen, if we die with guilt, shame, anger, or bitterness, all of that becomes part of the spirit we leave behind, binding and burdening the lives of our family and friends. Conversely, our dying can be our final gift to them. If we die without anger, reconciled, thankful for those around us, at peace with things, without recrimination and making others feel guilty, our going away will be a sadness but not a binding and a burdening. Then the spirit we leave behind, our real legacy, will continue to nourish others with the same warm energy we used to bring into a room.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com and now on Facebook www.facebook.com/ronrolheiser)

SPIRIT AND TRUTH
By Father Aaron Williams
The eyes of the world lately have been fixed on the conflict between Russia and Ukraine. But, one element that isn’t being reported well is the religious differences that exist particularly between Russian and Ukrainian Christians. The majority of Russian Christians (72%) are members of the Russian Orthodox Church. The remainder of Christians in Russia are, for the majority, members of a protestant community. Very few Russians assert they are members of the Catholic Church, and even fewer profess to be Roman Catholic.

Without attempting to explain centuries-old conflicts between Catholics and Orthodox Christians, suffice it to say that the major source of division stems from our understanding of the Pope of Rome as having authority, given to Christ the Lord to St. Peter, as supreme head of the church. But, apart from our political differences, the liturgy of the Orthodox Christians (not simply Russian Orthodox) is aesthetically very different from our celebrations of the Mass.

The liturgy celebrated in Orthodox churches is usually one of two liturgies which find their source in St. Basil the Great and St. John Chrysostom. These “Divine Liturgies” (their term for the “Mass”) are theologically the same celebrations we experience in our churches, with a valid Eucharist and all valid sacraments. Catholic and Orthodox Christians believe the same thing about the Mass, even though we are separated. This is why Orthodox Christians who request sacraments from a Catholic priest would freely be given them, though the same cannot be said of Catholic who may request sacraments from an Orthodox priest.

Now, what most Catholics do not know is that this eastern form of the liturgy also exists within the Catholic Church. There are Catholics throughout the world, and even in our own diocese, who are just as Catholic as you and me and yet are not Roman Catholic, meaning they do not celebrate the Roman form of the Holy Mass or the Sacraments and other rites. The largest of these ‘other’ Catholic Churches is the Ukrainian-Greek Catholic Church, which like the Russian Orthodox, also celebrate the Divine Liturgies of St. Basil and St. John Chrysostom.

Ukrainian-Greek Catholics, as well as the members of the other non-Roman Catholic Churches differ from Orthodox Christians because, like us, they also accept the authority of the Pope and believe all that is professed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. So, we speak of these Catholics as being “in full communion.” The highest authority figure of the Ukrainian-Greek Catholic Church is the Major Archbishop of Kyiv-Galicia, Sviatoslav Shevchuk — who, like any archbishop, is answerable to Pope Francis.

So, with this as a background, Catholics should be aware that one major point of concern for us in the conflict between Russia and Ukraine is that culturally the impact of this war could be devastating to our fellow Catholics. Russian Orthodox Christians have historically been very unreceptive to their Catholic counterparts in Ukraine. In fact, the Russian Orthodox Patriarch Krill of Moscow has on several occasions publicly denounced Ukrainian-Greek Catholics as “heretics” who “abuse the liturgy with Roman customs.”

During my studies at the Liturgical Institute, I was graced with the opportunity to concelebrate the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom every Sunday for several weeks at a nearby Byzantine (Greek) Catholic Church. It was a great opportunity for me to learn about and participate in an ancient Catholic rite, though differing from my own. The experience also helped me better understand the now-famous phrase of Pope St. John Paul II that, in the eastern and western liturgies, the church breathes with “two lungs.”

Though our diocese does not have an eastern Catholic Church, there are several eastern Catholics among us who are members of the Byzantine (Greek) Church, the Melkite (Lebanese) Church, or the Syro-Malabar and Syro-Malankara (Indian) Churches. Mississippi does have several orthodox churches and communities, the largest of which are the Greek Orthodox Churches in Jackson. The closest Eastern Catholic Church to our diocese is St. Nicholas Byzantine Mission in New Orleans.

As the situation in Ukraine worsens, and our Holy Father continues to call us to prayer, we as Roman Catholics should remember especially our eastern-Catholic brothers and sisters who have historically suffered much more prejudice against them than Roman Catholics experience, and who still suffer today.

(Father Aaron Williams is parochial vicar at St. Patrick and St. Joseph Meridian.)

On Ordinary Times
By Lucia A. Silecchia
Throughout March, myriad celebrations of “Women’s History Month” unfold. I understand the sentiment behind this and see the great value in recognizing the contributions that so many of my sisters, past and present, have made to building our society. This is particularly true when it comes to celebrating those who have too often been overlooked.

Yet, I find myself wishing that the world would celebrate women year-round in ways more akin to the way in which I see women celebrated by the church. Let me explain.

In Women’s History Month, I see honor paid to those women who – with the odds frequently stacked against them – succeeded in the eyes of the world. Women who were pioneers, or public figures of influence, or daring “first” women to achieve great feats, or those beckoned by history to play extraordinary roles on the world stage are celebrated with great enthusiasm. Those who used their great scientific, literary, intellectual, entrepreneurial, artistic and musical gifts to advance culture as we know it are honored this month with often overdue praise and gratitude.

The church also recognizes among our saints those women who did extraordinary things in the eyes of the world. We celebrate women who were great warriors like Joan of Arc; intellectuals like Hildegard, Edith Stein and Teresa of Avila; royalty like Margaret of Scotland, Jadwiga of Poland, Elizabeth of Portugal, Elizabeth of Hungary and Helena of Constantinople; foundresses like Elizabeth Seton, Scholastica, Frances Xavier Cabrini, Katherine Drexel and Jane Francs de Chantal. We also celebrate women like Teresa of Calcutta and Catherine of Sienna, whose unique roles led them to challenge those who held great influence in the world at their times.

These women who did great things with great holiness are honored as examples for those called and gifted to do such things with fidelity to the will of God.
Yet, I am proud and grateful that the church also holds out as examples those women who lived lives that were simple in the eyes of the world. That is, after all, the way in which most of us live our lives on this side of eternity.

Honored as saints are women like Ann, Gianna and Monica who lived the vocation to motherhood with extraordinary grace; Therese of Lisieux and Clare of Assisi who lived lives hidden from the world; Zelie of Lisieux who spun lace for a living and raised holy children; Josephine Bakhita and Felicity who, separated by centuries, both bore the abuse of slavery; Kateri Tekakwitha, an orphan scarred by smallpox; and girls like Bernadette, Dymphna, Maria Goretti, Jacinta, Agnes and Lucy who died long before the fullness of years would have given them the chance to have worldly accomplishments to their names.

More than all others, the church honors Mary of Nazareth who did the greatest of all things when, in an instant, she gave the “yes” on which salvation turned. She is honored by such great names as the Mother of God, Queen of Heaven, Queen of Angels, and Queen of All Saints. Yet, the only title she gave herself was “handmaid of the Lord.”

I hope that this month we continue to celebrate those women whose great deeds have made our world better. Yet, if that was all we did, much would be missing.

I hope that, like the church, we also take time to honor those women whose lives are not marked by the extraordinary deeds they did, but by the extraordinary love, grace and fidelity with which they did the simple things entrusted to their care. History is full of those women even if their names and stories are lost to time.

If you are blessed to know such women in your life, this month may be a chance to say a simple thank you. If you were blessed to know such women who have left this life, this month may be a particular time to pray in gratitude for the goodness of their lives – a goodness perhaps hidden from the world but known to God. May God bless the great and the good women of ordinary time.

(Lucia A. Silecchia is a Professor of Law at the Columbus School of Law at the Catholic University of America.)

IN EXILE
By Father Ron Rolheiser, OMI

Sometimes it takes an outsider to help you to see the beauty and depth of something you have never fully appreciated. I suspect this true for many of us, myself no exception, regarding the celebration of the Eucharist in our churches.

David P. Gushee, an Evangelical, recently published a book entitled After Evangelicalism, within which he describes his decades-long struggle to make peace with some issues inside his own church. He has remained in his church, though now on Sundays he also goes (with his wife who is a Roman Catholic) to a Catholic Mass. Here’s his description of what he sees there.

“I view design of the Catholic Mass as something like a polished gem, refined over time to a state of great beauty – if you know what you are looking at. … The movement of the Mass manages to accomplish so much in something like an hour – a processional, with the cross held high; greetings in the name of the triune God; early confession of sin, brief but compelling; an Old Testament reading read by a lay person; a sung psalm; an Epistle reading by a layperson; the Gospel reading by the priest, and the ceremony around it; a brief homily; the centering movement provided by the creed and the prayers of the people. An offertory and music. Then right to the Table – the people offer gifts that are then offered to God and come back to the people as Christ’s body and blood; the kneeling in humility; the Lord’s Prayer as an important part of the Eucharistic rite; the precious chance to pass the peace with neighbors just before the supper; more kneeling; the chance to watch the people come up for Communion and pray for them, or instead be quiet with God; the final Trinitarian blessing and recessional.”

What an insightful description of the ritual by which we celebrate the Eucharist! Sometimes when we’re inside something, we don’t see it as clearly as does someone from the outside.
Let me add two other descriptions that highlight the Eucharistic ritual in a way that we often don’t think about or meet in our usual theology and catechesis on this.

The first, like Gushee’s, also comes from a non-Catholic. A Methodist layman shares this: “I’m not a Roman Catholic, but sometimes I go to a Roman Catholic Mass just to take in the ritual. I’m not sure if they know exactly what they’re doing, but they’re doing something very powerful. Take their daily Mass, for example. Unlike their Sunday Mass, they do daily Mass more simply, with the ritual stripped down to its skeleton. What you see then, in essence, is something akin to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.” Why does he make that connection?

Here are his words. “People who go to daily Mass don’t go there to experience anything novel or exciting. It’s always the same, and that’s the point. Like people going to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, they’re going there to receive the support they need to stay steady in their lives, and the steadiness comes through the ritual. Underneath the surface, each person is saying, “My name is _ and my life is fragile. I know that if I don’t come to this ritual regularly my life will begin to unravel. I need this ritual to stay alive.” The ritual of the Eucharist functions too as a “12-Step” meeting.

Another perspective comes from Ronald Knox, a British theologian. He submits that we have never truly been faithful to Jesus. When we’re honest, we have to admit that we don’t love our enemies, don’t turn the other cheek, don’t bless those who curse us, don’t forgive those who kill our loved ones, don’t reach out enough to the poor, and don’t extend our compassion out equally to the bad as well as to the good. Rather, we cherry-pick the teachings of Jesus. But, says Knox, we have been faithful in one great way, through the ritual of the Eucharist. Jesus asked us to keep celebrating that ritual until he returns and, 2000 years later, we are still celebrating it. The ritual of the Eucharist is our one great act of fidelity, and the good news is that this ritual will ultimately be enough.

Jesus left us two things: his Word and the Eucharist. Various churches have taken different approaches as to which of these to give priory. Some churches, like Roman Catholics, Episcopalians and Anglicans have prioritized the Eucharist as the foundation on which they build and maintain community. Other churches, most Protestant and Evangelical communities, have reversed this and prioritized the Word as the foundation on which they build and maintain community. How do the Word and the Eucharist play out together?

On the Road to Emmaus when the disciples of Jesus fail to recognize him even as they are walking with him, Jesus stirs their hearts with the Word, enough so that they beg him to stay with them. Then he sits down with them for Eucharist, and the ritual does the rest.

(Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher and award-winning author. He can be contacted through his website www.ronrolheiser.com and now on Facebook www.facebook.com/ronrolheiser)

From the hermitage
By sister alies therese

Lent can be a curious time, full of darkness or foreboding, scary or convicting. Other times we experience the coming of spring, the hopefulness of a world reborn, and of our own selves drawn out and creating anew.

I love the wisdom literature our canon has retained. The Book of Wisdom is clocked back to 100 BCE and though the actual author is unknown, he was likely a member of the Jewish community at Alexandria in Egypt. It is said that he “places his teachings on the lips of the wise king [Solomon] of Hebrew tradition in order to emphasize their value.” (Intro, page 729, Book of Wisdom, NAB, 1970) The author would be considered learned among the sages of post-exilic Judaism.

At the end of the Book of Sirach (132 BCE) we find the call to discover wisdom by prayer, persistent study, instruction, purification from sin, enlightenment and ardent desire. In 51:23-26 the author notes that “wisdom gives herself to those who seek her and for their labor God will reward them at the end.”

We also discover this: “How long will you be deprived of wisdom’s food; how long will you endure such bitter thirst? For she is close to those who seek her, and the one in earnest finds her … let your spirits rejoice in the mercy of God and not be ashamed to give God praise.” (Sirach 51:24, 26, 29)

The author of this book is likely who he says he is, Yeshua ben Eleazar ben Sira. This is one of the longest books in the Bible and ‘contains the most extensive portion of Israelite wisdom literature.’ (NJBC, page 496)

Further back in 300 BCE the Book of Ecclesiastes introduces the notion of the vanity of all things and asks questions about the purpose of life … has it any value?

“Merit does not yield happiness, for it is often tried by suffering. Riches and pleasures do not avail. Existence is monotonous, enjoyment fleeting and vain; darkness quickly follows. Life, then is an enigma beyond human ability to solve.” (Intro, page 711, the Book of Eccl, NAB). Qoheleth (Greek for the Hebrew Ecclesiastes) was a pen name for the author some thought might be Solomon. Again, to give great dignity and authority to the text. Thought to be a native of Jerusalem he studied the law, prophets and writings and became a teacher.

His text is a series of questions and not mandates, for he had studied and also experienced life and found they do not always jive. For example, he notices that the same things seem to happen to the wise and to the foolish, the faithful and the deceived. So, what’s the profit? They both die. Yet he sees something of the timelessness of all things and his poem with which you might be familiar … in chapter 3:1-8 “for everything thing there is a season …” is beautiful. Later in his text he poses this: “no one knows the future … who can tell what will come after?” (9:1-11:6)

I love studying these three books. They address basic human questions about life, death, knowledge, love and wisdom. Other challenges about life … am I just a waste of space? Can I do anything I want? Where do I learn (and how) to live and how to love? How am I deceived? Lent is a perfect time to explore something new, to enhance our relationship with our Creator, and to offer to others our treasure so they might grow as well.

Wisdom literature reads beautifully in so many places, poetic, flowing and drawing one into the graciousness of God’s heart. What does God want for us? I suspect some of Jesus’ formation as a boy and youth came from these invitations in Wisdom. You will be familiar with the little chapter on suffering in Wisdom 3:1-12 as central to our funeral celebration.

In the New Jerome Biblical Commentary, I found this:
“The first half of the book is divided … the Book of Eschatology, dealing with the problems of retribution for good and evil and the immortality Wisdom offers. The second describes Wisdom and her operations in the world and explains how she is to be found … the exhortation to justice, which the rest of the book will reinforce: live a virtuous life, and trust in God because these qualities make possible union with God and with Wisdom.” (page 513, Commentary NJBC)

As Lent progresses discover whether and how you apply the practical deeds of wisdom in your life:
“Her I loved and sought from my youth; she adds to nobility the splendor of companionship with God; even the Lord loved her … if one loves justice the fruits of her works are virtues; for she teaches moderation and prudence, justice and fortitude, and nothing in life is more useful for us than these. So I determined to take her to live with me, knowing she would be my counselor while all was well, and my comfort in care and grief.” (Wisdom 8:2-3, 7, 9)

Easter Blessings.

(Sister alies therese is a canonically vowed hermit with days formed around prayer and writing.)