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.)

FOR THE JOURNEY
By Effie Caldarola CNS

The season of Lent begins just as we have watched in horror the Russian invasion of Ukraine. As the world watches evil unleashed upon the forces of democracy in a European country, it seems somehow fitting that Christians move into a penitential season.

Unlikely heroes are emerging. News reports show a white-haired woman in her 60s, nails well-manicured and lacquered, practicing firing a large rifle to help defend her country. The president of Ukraine, a former comedian, told the U.S. when they offered to evacuate him, “I need ammunition, not a ride.”

As I write this, Volodymyr Zelenskyy is still alive and fighting. Pray to God, when you read this, he will still be the president. But we know the Russians have him and his democratic government in their sites.

How does this affect our Lenten journey, and how, perhaps, can our Lenten journey affect the world’s brokenness?
To a Christian, these questions can never be separated. We’ve been called to bring the kingdom of God, never to hide away solely in our own world of religiosity and private devotion.

In the February days leading up to Lent, many of the daily readings were from the Letter of James. Many of the readings struck me as important and bold, and I decided to read more of James.

The letter, only five chapters, is full of practical advice: We should be quick to listen and slow to speak, James says. That in itself would be a worthwhile Lenten endeavor.

He impresses on us that a faith not expressed in good works is no faith at all. And he challenges us to think about class distinctions: James asks us to imagine “if a man with gold rings on his fingers and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and a poor person in shabby clothes comes in.” We might envision our own Sunday Mass congregation.

How are the two treated, James asks. Such a simple question, and yet one that we all should ask ourselves. Who is given the best seat at table, in our society, in our own lives? James’ letter is very hard on the rich.

We make plans for our lives, James says, but much like the Ukrainians who went on about their lives calmly in the days before the invasion, we don’t know what tomorrow will bring. “You,” James writes, “are a puff of smoke that appears briefly and then disappears.”

This may be a somber thought, but each of us goes the way of all flesh, and Lent offers us the opportunity to contemplate what we are doing with this brief but precious time we have been given.

In his famous poem, “As Kingfishers Catch Fire,” the Jesuit priest Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, “What I do is me: for that I came.”

Our actions prove who we are, more than any fine statements or boasts, more than our degrees, our accomplishments, our riches.

Who are we? We ask Jesus to help us answer this question during Lent. Why did we come?

I think of President Zelenskyy, a young man in his 40s, a performer in his early life. Now, he has become the focal point of resistance to an evil assault affecting millions of people in his country, and perhaps beyond. This, perhaps, is the moment for which he came.

Meanwhile, Jesus invites us to draw nearer. By deepening our prayer, extending our charity, perhaps to Catholic Relief Services’ humanitarian efforts in Ukraine, and strengthening ourselves with penance, perhaps we can better answer the question Jesus asks: Why did you come?

(Effie Caldarola writes for the Catholic News Service.)