St. Mary's Church, Roslyn: Pastor's Page

Dear Friends:

This being the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, I suppose I should be speaking at length of the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist: or of the mystery of transubstantiation, by which the elements of bread and wine change, by God’s grace, into his Flesh and Blood. I fervently believe these things, and promise I will address them. For the moment, however, I face the heartbreaking, indeed unprecedented, situation in which I may not distribute communion to the People of God. And so, I’d like to consider with you the mystery of Christ’s Body, but from another perspective, that is, the mystery of the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ. That is how Pope Pius XII referred to the People of God in his encyclical 77 years ago this month. In it we hear the echo of St. Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, that “by participation in the body of Christ…we who are many are one.” The beautiful sequence by St. Thomas Aquinas tells us: “Thousands are, as one, receivers, one, as thousands of believers, eats of him who cannot waste.” And the Gospel tells us Jesus is the source of life for those who feed on his Body. In the Church, therefore, we see the mystery of the whole Christ, God and man. The paradox of the sacraments is that we behold the divine presence—which is invisible—in the human, which is visible. Pope Pius reminds us that at the moment of Mary’s free submission to God’s will, there came about a “marriage” between divinity and humanity. As Catholics, we must believe that God’s grace has a real, transforming effect within us, and leads us to union with him and with our neighbor. Still, as we are creatures of time and space, the effect of grace on the mind and heart is not instantaneous. God does not violate the natural law of which he himself is the author. The natural law, not to mention the eternal law, recognizes the processes of growth, development, nourishment, and healing, whereby God’s children come to attain the perfection of holiness. Two things we must keep in mind: first, try as we may, we will never attain that perfection this side of eternity. Second, we only find the presence of God by looking beyond appearances, going below the surface to find that invisible, divine reality.

As your pastor, I recognize, and share, your frustration at not being able to receive Holy Communion in a time of infirmity and injustice. But I do you no service if I adopt, as many religious figures have, secular political categories, like power, privilege, and preference, to frame the discussion. I refuse to allow others to set the terms of dialogue. Let us use the language and wisdom of the Scriptures. The first reading reminds us: “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.” Ask yourselves, throughout the present turmoil when, if at all, does the word of God enter the discussion? The Evil One divides us by setting up mutually exclusive camps, demanding absolute perfection from others, humiliation and dominance over others, empty gestures, and silly slogans.

No.

My favorite “spiritual writer,” whom I quoted last week, is Flannery O’Connor. In her essay, “The Sins of the Church,” she argues that an adolescent view of the world demands “the kingdom of heaven on earth right here, right now.” The adult, on the other hand, is far more patient and realistic. As she says, a mature person “knows the consequences of sin, (and) knows how deep you have to go to find love.”

Does not our Lord turn our lives upside down when he says, “Love your enemies; pray for your persecutors”? Of the Church, O’Connor says: “You don’t serve God by saying: the Church is ineffective, I’ll have none of it…To expect too much is to have a sentimental view of life, and this is a softness that ends in bitterness. Charity is hard and endures…” Let me emphasize: love, we Catholics know, is not a feeling; it is an act of the will. At a moment like ours, it is difficult, even impossible, to love as God would have us love. Why? Because it demands that people calm down, show mutual respect, act upon the Commandments and Beatitudes, and keep in mind that there is a constant struggle throughout human life to cooperate with the grace of God. Whatever course of action human beings adopt, it will always…always…fall short. We must constantly reevaluate our values and actions in light of the Gospel challenge.

And so today we revere the Body of Christ in its Mystical Reality, the Church. The good news today is that the Church, once again, has become a visible presence, here at home, in our nation, and throughout the world. By receiving the Body of Christ, we become the Body of Christ more and more. Let us start by turning our minds and hearts to the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. St. Thomas tells us of the sacrament: “Sight has failed, nor thought conceives, but a dauntless faith believes, resting on a power divine.” From first to last, Christians look beyond appearances to find the hand of God at work. So let us put ourselves in his hands, and be instruments of his peace in our world today.

Faithfully,
Fr. Valentine

Dear Friends:

I would be remiss if I didn’t address, if not the details, at least the impact of what has happened over the past week. It wasn’t enough that our country should be hit by the dual tragedies of a worldwide pandemic and the subsequent havoc it has wreaked on our economy and culture. No: we then witnessed a heinous act of cruelty by one human being against another, as well as the violence that ensued, whereby the very fabric of society is being torn asunder. Little of the commentary that followed has been very insightful, much less constructive. I’m reminded of a line that my mentor and friend, Fr. Charlie Kohli, frequently used: “Tim, deep down, that person is shallow…” I don’t claim to know the answers. Still, it occurs to me that most public statements, even those that refer generically to God or the spiritual life, do not connect our present trials to the basic truths of Catholicism, and the light they shed on our situation. Friends, we today are front-row witnesses to the mystery of original sin, that is, the fallen state of humanity. Men and women, created in the image and likeness of God—his great masterpiece—abused their freedom and preferred themselves to the source of all goodness (Catechism, par. 398). This had disastrous implications; through sin, death “entered” the world, obscured the senses, weakened the will, dimmed the mind, created enmity between people, and transformed human engagement with the world from one of joy into misery. What’s more, every precious child is born into a situation not of his own making that mars the divine image within him. How does our faith help us make sense of this?

Today the Church celebrates the central dogma of Christianity, namely, the mystery of the Holy Trinity, our belief in one God in three persons. God is by his nature a community of love, both within himself, and in his dealings with creation, as St. Paul writes to the Corinthians. As the reading from Exodus puts it, “steadfast” love, or hesed, in Hebrew, is the closest human beings come to describing the experience of God, who is entirely gracious to his creatures, and who receives no profit in return. Finally, St. John relates what is rightly called the “little gospel”: the Good News in a nutshell. God sent his Son into the world, not to condemn it, but so that it might be saved through him. Like the mystery of one God in three Persons, or the mystery of Christ, true God and true man, Catholicism gives us yet another paradox: creation is good and fallen, sinful and saved.

Friends, the Catholic writer Flannery O’Connor once remarked that “human nature vigorously resists grace because grace changes us, and the change is painful.” For her, Catholics are the ultimate realists because we understand deep down the conflicted human heart, and we reject the shallow thinking that demands perfection right here, right now. For her, such thinking is to leave out “the terrible radical human pride that causes death.” Pulling up pride from its roots is, for all intents and purposes, impossible: for us. But this is precisely why we come here, to the foot of the Cross. As Pope Benedict puts it, prayer is the experience of walking with Jesus so that the disciple is “caught up with [Christ] into communion with God…redemption is stepping beyond the limits of human nature, which had been there in man, God’s image and likeness, since the moment of creation.” If we would reach out to our neighbor, let us first look to the presence of Christ within our hearts and minds. Then we will love as we should.

Faithfully,
Fr. Valentine