Many years ago as a university student I came to understand the value, from a purely philosophical point of view, that lived-experience holds for revealing the deepest truths of life. Experience is such, I learned, that approached the right way--with suspended judgment concerning one's presuppositions--it has the ability to offer a view into being-itself. At least this method or approach shed light for me on the depth of experience that often goes unnoticed.
It is quite possible, I learned, to apply such an approach to all areas of life, say religion, mysticism, literature, and even to the events that unfold in the news. Perhaps this is why something that has recently appeared as newsworthy gives a glimmer of hope:
Interfaith dialogue has become an important exercise in finding the right words to overcome both extreme violence and ordinary misunderstanding. True progress, however, is best measured in deeds. The inauguration last week of Qatar's first Christian church — a small Catholic chapel bearing neither bells nor visible crosses — has been hailed as a welcome step forward in relations between Catholicism and Islam. But an even more dramatic development is under discussion just across the border: The Vatican has confirmed that it is negotiating for permission to build the first church in Saudi Arabia. (source)
However, hope often comes with an accompanying feeling of foreboding, or perhaps with the sense of a warning included with it. Part of the suspension of judgment required to see into the reality of the situation demands that we take notice of our deepest feelings as well as what happens on the surface. Given that, we must take heed that
Presiding over the cradle of Islam and home to its holiest sites, the Saudi monarchy has long banned the open worship of other faiths... (see source above)
I'd like to think that I'm just being paranoid about the reaction and the implications, the wave of indignation that would surely result from the Catholic Church being established in Saudi Arabia. I want to think and go on believing my deepest sense of the matter, namely, that we are perhaps being given the possibility for lived-communion on a grand scale. Yet I recognize and see the dark side lurking nearby:
Al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden threatened the European Union with grave punishment on Wednesday for publication of cartoons mocking Islam's Prophet Mohammad.
In an audio recording posted on the Internet coinciding with the birthday of Islam's founder, bin Laden said the drawings, considered offensive by Muslims, were part of a "new crusade" in which Pope Benedict was involved.
"Your publications of these drawings -- part of a new crusade in which the Pope of the Vatican had a significant role -- is a confirmation from you that the war continues," said the Saudi-born militant leader, addressing "those who are wise at the European Union".
You are "testing Muslims ... the answer will be what you shall see and not what you hear." (source)
Nevertheless, in the spirit of Holy Thursday, and in the spirit of communion--gathering together the deepest possible meanings of the word and its corresponding experience--hope must be allowed to shine forth as real, and as a given in the world of things that have true meaning. Fear cannot be allowed to surface--it cannot be allowed to have being, for in reality fear has no real being of its own because it arises from nonbeing. It is as unreal ultimately as the evil from which it issues forth. Fear is no-thing, and thus it cannot be allowed to acquire being in experience. It arises from the envy and jealously of true Being, which is love entirely.
It's not really my intention to enter into a long existential meditation today. It seems years since I've spent time with that type of endeavor. Somewhere along the way I learned that the faith--that is, Catholicism--held the key for me. However, there is a good point to be made here on the Thursday when we recall the Lord's Supper; when we Catholics around the world remember God's gift to us of Eucharist, which we still have with us today--which we have as a sure promise always.
It's important to look into the meaning of communion on a big scale: it's important to look at what living out Eucharist means to us globally. I believe that we should hope and pray for the Catholic Church to be established where the Word of God is forbidden, where lived-communion lies waiting in hope and expectation like the coming of spring. We should welcome dialogue with Muslim scholars, and even sit down to meals with Muslim men and women in our communities and offer peace, even in the face of persecution, and even when such persecution reaches an unfathomable degree of inhumanity in places that are outside our immediate sight but never outside of our seeing.
Remember that it is by our love that we will be known as Christians. For me that says a lot more than one might find on the surface. It is a statement that demands to be uncovered layer after layer, for truly it is a many-layered reality. We are Christians, that is we are of Christ--of his Body and his Blood--we are in lived-communion, and our call and responsibility is to carry that same lived-communion into every corner of the world. We must welcome every overture of love into our world, a world which grows ever smaller. Only in Christ, the meek and mild, can we somehow begin to enlarge this ever shrinking globe and let its true horizon show forth the bounty and greatness--the expanse--of the Kingdom of God.
Someone at FOX has created a highly entertaining interview (which someone uploaded to GodTube)with a FOX-animated priest with St. Peter's behind him, speaking about the forbidden new church, which still seems forbidden to me.. he speaks about this "reciprocity."
Without a cross outside (nor a Corpus inside, nor Tabernacle, baptismal font, holy water, blessed oils, statues, Stations..) it's already not genuine reciprocity, because we don't ask that mosques be indistinguishable here! As I said elsewhere, I hope it's hope-able, maybe this is the only first step there could be, but I think only 5 years will prove that out.
I think of all the times I received an email forward that said if you're not ashamed of Christ, you'll pass this on. Well, that testimony is pretty easy (said millions of martyrs..), but there come true tests of fidelity. For me, this is one of those. What of Christ's church are we allowed to barter? For it was readily agreed upon that there'd be no cross on the outside. I as Catholic, thus, would not know this church.
Posted by: Carol | March 20, 2008 at 10:44 AM
I meant to insert a "However," before the "Without" - because all the words in the above comment are mine, except for that word 'reciprocity'. As hard as this may sound, that word seems very illicit in the mouth of a priest, for it seems to me one that Judas or Christ's other bargainers would've oilily employed. It seems a bloody part of the Cross indeed to have encountered the word "reciprocity" on the Word of God's Holy Thursday. I just hope I'm wrong.
Posted by: Carol | March 20, 2008 at 03:00 PM
I feel hope, as when in your recent post, dd, it said that, "Qatar's emir, Sheik Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani, personally donated the land to build the $15 million church". You write, "We must welcome every overture of love into our world", and so I welcome the Sheik's action as an overture of love. Would that it might happen in Saudi Arabia as well.
Posted by: Gabrielle | March 27, 2008 at 10:31 AM
Indeed, it is love that builds a church. That's why wherever I went to Mass before this Cross-less building, that's where I'd still go. The Cross is the Unbarterable, as millions of martyrs might say; it's not only the sign and symbol of Christ's total sacrifice/victory for our death-into-life, but it's the Sign that denotes the Triune God - Father, Son and Holy Spirit, too. That's precisely why it's not allowed, right?
Posted by: C | March 28, 2008 at 09:01 AM
Oh, but Carol, read the joy with which a fellow Catholic-blogger in Doha writes about the opening of the church: In the Footsteps of Christ. And they've already started a website; here's the Mass Schedule. Personally I wouldn't let the exterior appearance keep me away - after all, there are probably hundreds upon hundreds of Catholic churches, unfortunately, throughout the U.S. and Canada alone that have neither crosses nor belltowers. Our Lady of the Rosary. How could anyone stay away? :)
Hope these links work.
Posted by: Gabrielle | March 29, 2008 at 09:56 PM
God knows, Satan has wanted to render the Cross a moot point since Golgotha, and Mary is the next in line for him to discredit; if he has scored a victory in this indistinguishable church, it's minor if Mass goes on within, so maybe it's not worth arguing. But maybe it is: It'd be impossible to poll any martyrs whose last view of life was the Cross, but I did ask two kind yet savvy folks here what they thought this building is. My husband thought it was a Jewish temple; my daughter thought it was a Japanese government building.
Posted by: C | March 30, 2008 at 04:53 PM
I wish I could attach a picture here of the tiny church rapidly constructed for some coalition Eastern rite soldiers serving in a certain part of Iraq. It was built with love in the searing heat, too, but the Cross is the first thing one sees. It's nothing but wood, but it's gorgeous.
Posted by: Carol | March 30, 2008 at 09:17 PM