Deacon Dan Wright

Claiming Treasure

When I found your words, I devoured them;
they became my joy and the happiness of my heart…Jer 15:16

In today's readings the same gospel pericope as we heard on Sunday comes up again. It bears repeating that when we find a treasure of great value, it is human nature to go to all lengths to acquire that which we have found.

Too often we may fail to realize that a great treasure is available to us at all times, but just the help we need for whatever situation we may be facing is never too far away. I took the passage from Jeremiah this morning and considered it in view of the gospel reading. For Jeremiah the treasure he finds is the Lord's words, which he devours.

The promise of God to provide for us is one that has the power to inspire joy in our hearts. It is always a good practice to ask ourselves what our role or our part should be in order to obtain from God the fullness of what he promises us. I remember in my youth the evangelical idea that all one needs is to claim the promise. However, for me this seemed always to somehow fall short—not that I think that claiming the promises of God for oneself is somehow unreliable, but there's more to it.

Jeremiah makes it clear: "If you repent, I will restore you." I think that it's a common experience that God becomes a "treacherous brook" in the lives of many people; that is, in lives where there is need for restoration of the primary relationship with God. In honesty I have found myself feeling the same way on several occasions, though the sense of alienation from God varies from person to person. Perhaps the greater sense of alienation is a sign of the greater need—and of a greater capacity—for relationship with God.

What we stand to gain is in clear sight. The promises of God are a joyous attraction to our souls. It is always in our free will to acquire the promised treasures of God. Sure, we should verbally claim that they belong to us—that is where we must start. However, we must take the next step and act in freedom to acquire what is ours: we must choose God over sin in the multiple opportunities we are given in the moments of our lives.

The human ability to act in freedom can be the source of a great treasure added to our lives.  When we realize that obtaining from God is a decision that we make, it is no longer the case that we take life as passive participants.  Once we find the treasure, we must act to acquire it.

The Memorial of Mary Magdalene

As I was reflecting on the meaning of the Memorial of St. Mary Magdalene, I couldn't really help but consider the popular notions and the twists that modernity has placed on her life and person. What many, if not most, people commonly know about Mary Magdalene comes from the false ideas made popular by Dan Brown's novel The Da Vinci Code.

In terms of our faith, that is, in terms of our real-life relationship with God and the Church, and with one another and with the whole world, what does the life of Mary Magdalene stand to teach us? What do we stand to learn aside from the fantasy and unreality that the non-believing world has chosen to accept as truth? Certainly fantasy—in the sense of creative imagination—about Mary Magdalene is nothing new, as the Gnostic literature of Nag Hammadi reveals.

Even from a more orthodox historical point of view there has never been great agreement about Mary Magdalene, but there has certainly been plenty said—especially in consideration of the tradition that identifies her with Mary of Bethany, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. So what are we to think or believe? What is the lesson to be had?

I don't know that it matters all that much that we identify with certainty whether or not Mary Magdalene was the sister of Martha or whether she was the sinner who anointed the Lord's feet, as the painting above depicts. Putting the three together—Magdalene, the sister of Martha, and the sinner—has helped somewhat to fill in the unknowns. However, what is clear from Luke 8:2-3 is that Mary Magdalene experienced a great healing and exorcism in her life.

I suppose that the popular media would never accept the fact that Mary had been freed from seven demons, which is at least symbolic of a great depth of sin and despair, as one of the most important things we can know about her. However, I deeply believe that this is where we should put our attention.

The first reading today from Micah reveals God's great clemency:

Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt
and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance;
Who does not persist in anger forever,
but delights rather in clemency,
And will again have compassion on us,
treading underfoot our guilt?
You will cast into the depths of the sea
all our sins;
You will show faithfulness to Jacob,
and grace to Abraham,
As you have sworn to our fathers
from days of old.

It does us some good to consider the ideal of grace as made concrete in an individual person. Sure, throughout history there have been great conversions, but in many ways Mary Magdalene serves almost as a prototypical example of God's grace made concrete in a human being who had a great need to be forgiven. It also does us good to consider that such grace is made available by faith in, and love for, Jesus.

The gospel narrative today tells us the story of Mary Magdalene's being privileged to be the first person to witness the Resurrection of the Lord. It is penance come full circle. As I considered the Easter witness of Mary Magdalene, the thought crossed my mind that many people might prefer that the first witness of the Resurrection had been someone else—perhaps Peter or the disciple "whom Jesus loved" or even Mary his mother—yet the one who had this privilege above all these is the one out of whom went seven demons.

The idea of someone who had been trapped in the depths—perhaps unimaginably despairing—of sin having the grace to be the first to witness the resurrected Lord speaks deeply of the faith that we need more and more in our times. Indeed, I have long held that Mary Magdalene is the kind of individual that stands to say the most to us.

Years ago a wise priest told me in counseling after confession that I had a saint who had been praying for me long before I was born. He told me that someday I would know who this saint is. Perhaps, he told me, I would even come to have a special devotion to this particular saint. In some ways I think that Mary Magdalene might be that saint.

On more than one occasion I have had people write in and tell me that religion as presented in blogs and on the Internet fails to address the true struggle that most Christians experience in their lives. I don't have to think back too far to find places in my own life that cause me to say to myself, "Yes, I do know the struggles. I too have struggled and frequently continue to do so."

What Mary Magdalene shows us is that freedom from struggle is not something that is outside our reach. She shows us that faith stands to be perfected in sinners. It could be that we get things wrong when we associate faith only with the pious and godly saints who never doubted or felt trapped by addictions or alcoholism or who experienced the darkness of depression or never had acted in such a way to feel genuine regret.

Mary Magdalene speaks to us of grace. Her face is reflected in the convicted killer on his way to the death chamber; it shows in the eyes of the woman leaving the abortion clinic. Her struggling heart is one with every drunk and drug addict, with every man and woman exploited by pornography, and with every adulterous husband or wife—and even those who have abandoned, neglected, and harmed their own children are not beneath Mary Magdalene. Yet hers is the witness of grace. It is the witness that our Lord Jesus heals us, removes our demons, and invites us to partake in his Resurrection.

For Mary Magdalene's dignity and meaning to shine through we don't have to imagine her in some fantastic role of hidden power. We don't have to fantasize that she possessed the gnosis of salvation. She lived a common human life; she needed healing and forgiveness and she turned to the God who promised that such graceful love as to forgive the fullness of guilt would always be available.  In her real life experience, there is an abundance to which we people of the 21st century can and perhaps must relate.

Being Wheat Among Tares

Although I returned from my vacation in San Diego more than a week ago, I decided to extend my hiatus from blogging for just a little while longer.

There was still a couple of local trips to make—my oldest son turned 14 and for a treat we returned to Schlitterbahn water park, which anyone who was reading this time last year will recall included a five-hour search for my daughter (11 at the time). This year we had a rule that we all stay together. Also, we had a family wedding to attend, so it's been an active summer as well as a fast-paced one.

Before the end of July I do plan to make one more trip—to east Texas where I grew up—and then it'll be almost time to return to work. I anticipate an exciting school year, which, I have learned over the years, always has numerous surprises and challenges. However, whatever the challenges, I consider them to be all part of an opportunity on a grand scheme to be true to myself—to let the true me be.

Isn't this what the Sunday gospel teaches us this week? I recall being familiar with the parable of the "wheat and the tares" from an early age. I also recall a time in my life when it inspired no small amount of anxiety in me. I remember asking myself, "How do I know if I am wheat or a weed among wheat?"

My confusion came from two sources: first, I was reading the parable far too literally, and as an evangelical non-Catholic, I was reading it from a Calvinist background of double predestination, according to which some people are destined to damnation while others are destined to the eternal happiness of heaven. I can see how the theological error could come about as a result of a fundamentalist or literal reading of the passage.

The fact is that God invites every human being to join him in heaven and each of us has the potential—easily—to bear good fruit in our lives, even in cases of deathbed conversions. Our free will is something that we always have: it is essential to being human.

Only God knows the depths of the heart, and it is the heart that is precisely the source of good fruit in one's life. In the world human beings, unlike the world of wheat and weeds, we all tend to look very similar. Sometimes it's difficult for us to judge who bears fruit and who is a weed among wheat. The truth is that we must question ourselves and our motives and discern the state of our souls.

Actually, the parable functions on two important levels. It tells us about humanity on the whole, for indeed God has called the whole of humanity to salvation through Jesus Christ, and it speaks to us of the Church, where we are well aware that wheat exists alongside tares.

We have our whole lives as the proving ground, and if our desire is truly to be among the good gathered in the Father's harvest, there is no need for worry or anxiety. We only must be ourselves, and be true to ourselves, in every situation and in the face of every challenge. When we reach the end, the good that we have done, along with the innermost intentions of our hearts, will be made evident.

The photo above is one I took on the beach at Coronado, California.  It doesn't really go with the post so much other than the beach has always symbolized the end for me--whether it's the end of a vacation or the end of one's days.  Finishing things up always has the potential to be a really beautiful thing.

Light Blogging

For the next couple of days or so I don't expect to do too much deep writing or reflecting, other than on what's around me in the form of natural beauty or local interest.   

Yes, the time has come again for my annual vacation, and on this post I'm including a couple of photos.  I have a weakness for sunsets and seaside views. For fun I'll leave it to you to figure out the location.  However, this year it's not the Texas coast. 

This particular sunset says "eternity" to me.

With temperatures last month getting as high as 107 degrees, I felt the need for something a bit cooler and a bit more laid back, so I've been away since July 4th and have very much enjoyed the "cool change."  Okay, the last photo is a giveaway if you can see the sign.

I may post a few more photos in the next day or two, and then it's back to Texas.  Since I'll still have a month and a half before returning to work, there will still be some time left for travel.

However, with fuel prices being what they are I don't anticipate that I will be doing too much driving.  Still I'd like to get some pictures of the east Texas piney woods or perhaps a nice scene from somewhere a little closer to home.

More to come.  BTW the two photos on this post were taken with a Nikon D80 using a 18-135mm lens fitted with a Quantaray UV filter.

Happy 4th of July

Isn't this what it's all about?

The Non-Sacramental Marriage/Wedding

My blog has never really been one where people write in questions but, as things are always changing, I'm certainly willing--even eager--to go in that direction.  So if you have questions about the faith, or anything else about which I might advise you, feel free to email me.  I may post your question, along with my response, and your anonymity is always guaranteed.

A reader writes in to me with the following:

I am a permanent deacon at a small parish...and have a wedding to assist at in August. As in most wedding homilies, they always focus on the sacramentality of marriage. This is fine when one or both of couple is a Catholic. However as you know, whenever a Catholic marries an unbaptized non-Christian person, the marriage is not a sacrament but just a “valid” Catholic marriage. Do you have any ideas as to how to tackle this?

True, only the marriages of baptized persons are sacramental marriages--even between a Catholic and a validly baptized non-Catholic.  The marriage between a Catholic and a non-baptized person, and even the the marriage between two non-baptized persons (at which, as deacons, we do not preside), is considered a "natural marriage" as opposed to its being sacramental. Nevertheless, it is still a marriage, and as such it holds the intrinsic dignity of marriage.  It is also important to keep in mind that in the event that the non-baptized party is baptized, the marriage will become sacramental without anything else having to be done. 
 
Beyond getting the necessary permissions or dispensations from your bishop, which I am sure you have done, you will indeed want to concentrate on your homily and on the wedding ceremony.  Keep in mind that even with a sacramental marriage, where both parties are baptized, your homily does not necessarily have to focus on the sacramentality of the marriage, though there's certainly nothing wrong with it doing so.  

For the non-sacramental marriage, I suggest that you focus on the readings (primarily the gospel) the couple has chosen, especially, if possible, bring in the aspect of marriage being a lasting relationship.  Also, try to focus as much as possible on love and the love that God is.  I have found a good rule to follow in ministry is to temper everything with love.  In doing so, you'll have no problem when disputing with your foes--so to speak.
 
Here's a homily I did some time back at a wedding where one spouse was not baptized.  Perhaps there are elements you can use.  Keep in mind that although one party is not Christian, the other one is.  Thus, it is quite appropriate to emphasize elements of the life in Christ and the Church. Here it is:
 

I have heard it said, "It is not love that sustains your marriage, but marriage that sustains your love."  This is something that almost all married people will attest to.  It means that you'll always have more love to look forward to in your life with each other, which you are beginning in an entirely new way today.
 
There's a secret to a happy marriage that's in the readings that you chose for your wedding.  The theme of unity comes through clearly, especially in the gospel reading, but does it make sense to talk about the unity of husband and wife if we're not given instructions on how to be one with each other?  The instruction is part of the scriptures.  The Lord tells us, through his prayer to the Father, to expect that the love of God be with us and part of our lives.  Put another way, husband and wife learn to be for one another the way that God is for us.
 
In marriage, it's good to pause occasionally and say, "Remember, I'm on your side; I'm for you."  This is a lesson that we take from our faith, which speaks of the marriage in heaven between Christ and his bride.  We, as the Church, understand that he is for us, his bride, in all ways and at all times.  Perhaps above everything else, being on one another's side means to learn to be forbearing and forgiving with each other.  The love sustained by marriage forbears, forgives, and learns always to say, "I will never leave you."  It's the secret to the lasting marriage.

So as you go forth this morning as husband and wife, I offer you my blessing as the Church's minister.  However, when you first found each other you likely found the blessing that means the most to the two of you.  It's with joy that we celebrate that blessing, as well as the Church's blessing, today.

How Shall We Defeat Evil?

On many occasions I have intimated, if not outright said, that the we live in a world where the forces of evil are prevalent and evident everywhere.  The evil that exists ranges from the things people do to cause injury to themselves and others, on both small and large scales, all the way to the things they merely say--either verbally or in writing. 

Often, and it really is unfortunate when it happens, evil is done in the name of good.  Interestingly, evil prefers frequently to step outside the bounds of straightforward acts of malice and to masquerade as something good.  It is such insidious evil that is truly the enemy of us all, for we are easily duped into somehow both seeing and believing that bad actions, words, intentions, ideas, etc., can result in what is best for someone else.

Clearly, every action has an effect.  Even the smallest of secret acts causes an effect, if only it exists in the depth of our souls and no place else.  However, every action, regardless of its secrecy, is like a seed planted--we can be sure that we will reap what we sow. 

The analogy that I have always liked best is that of the perfectly calm pond: we drop in a stone and it's sure to send out ripples in every direction.  Our goal, rather than to create for ourselves a state of being without effect, is to send out ripples of goodness. 

It even seems to be clearly evident that there will always be some kind of ripples on the pond because our lives are filled with actions of some kind each day.  Even if--hypothetically--there could be nothing more than a purely calm mental state consisting of nothing other than calmness and quiet, some kind of activity would still exist.  To deny that action always occurs is to deny something essential about being human.

The scripture readings from the lectionary for today tell us:

Seek good and not evil,
that you may live;
Then truly will the LORD, the God of hosts,
be with you as you claim!
Hate evil and love good,
and let justice prevail at the gate...

The challenge for us is that we learn to discern good from evil.  Perhaps one would think that the ability to tell what is good from what is bad comes naturally, but evidence indicates otherwise.  Developing a life of prayer and scripture study is essential to discernment; however, to recognize the good--to apprehend it and make it be part of our being--we must engage the whole of creation, that is, we must engage and apprehend life as it is lived.  God created the world as good, and that goodness still exists--it is the goodness that flows forth from the new creation brought about by the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Learning to do the good is also about learning to see the good in others, but it is also about making good for others by doing nothing that would bring about a negative effect.

I believe that we live in a world where there is entirely too much hatred.  At times even common civility seems to be lacking.  Good, in this sense, includes good manners.  Unfortunately, for the past ten years or so that I have been following religion on the Internet, I have encountered the extremes of bad manners, rudeness, crass comments, and thoughtless speech presented in the name of faith. 

I only bring this up because we have to start somewhere if we are going to do the good and fill the earth with it, and furthermore we have to fill it every day because goodness in our world is a little like a gas tank on big car: it tends to run out quickly.  No problem though because the source of goodness is like a river of living water springing up.  It won't run out.

Maybe you've been a little rude in someone's combox (that's real life too), or perhaps you have taken it to speech with someone else.  Perhaps you said something to a spouse or child that you regret.  Not a problem--we have all done it.  Reconciliation is as close as a prayer.  If you feel that you need, you can receive the Sacrament of Penance as well. However, begin by going to your room and shutting the door and then get down on your knees and ask the Lord Jesus to fill you with goodness.

Goodness has the power to permeate the world around us, and evil tends to run from goodness.  Therefore, goodness is the true power that we must learn to apprehend if we are serious about transforming the world.  Every action of ours--every word we say and write and everything we do--should aspire to create goodness in others, to edify, to build up.  Clearly, such is the sign and evidence of goodness.  It does the opposite of evil, which, rather than building ties, bonds, and relationships, has only the power to tear apart.

Goodness has the power to cast out evil, as the gospel story today of the demons being driven into the swine herd indicates.  Goodness has great power, but often it will encounter opposition as the story also indicates--in the case of our Lord being asked to leave the district, he encountered fear and misunderstanding.

I want to sum up today's reflection by emphasizing that it is entirely possible for us to defeat evil.  In fact we are called to do so.  However, we have to start somewhere and the right place to start is with our own lives.  It's not that we have to become perfectly good saints before we can do and share goodness, but that we have to ask for goodness to be given to us, just as we are now.  We must bring all that we are to the Lord and allow him to begin healing us and transforming us.

It's true that when we bring ourselves to the Lord we do it in prayer, yet we should also see that we encounter him every aspect of life and being human.  Thus, in our living we have a lifetime of opportunity to make ourselves one with all that is good.  With the right amount of prayer and discernment we will always be able to recognize and distinguish the good and the evil, and ultimately we will stand victorious with our victorious God who is all good. 

Anglican Split Goes Beyond Sexuality

I have somewhat followed the events within the Anglican Communion leading up to the current state of disunity.  Being an outsider it is sometimes difficult to know what is really going on.  I found the following story to be interesting because it points outside the well-publicized issues of sexual politics and gets at something much more fundamental to the faith.

Word has got about that traditionalist Anglicans have something against gay people - and that is what is driving the Communion towards disintegration.

Of course some of them might not like homosexual people, but, as they never tire of pointing out, that is not what this historic rift is about.

In reality, the dispute centres on how strictly Anglicans should interpret the Bible, and whether, for example, it should be read as ruling out active homosexuality as a sin.

Homosexuality is simply the presenting issue - the human behaviour that exposes radically different approaches to the Bible, and helps to make this such a fundamental dispute.

However, the traditionalist bishops meeting in Jerusalem to plan their next move in this crisis claim that embracing active homosexuality is only a part of the "liberal agenda".

They still want the American Church expelled for ordaining an openly gay bishop in 2003.

But now there are other issues, among them their suspicion that liberal Anglicans are quietly backing away from their "calling" to evangelise other faiths.

Continue reading

The claim is that liberal Anglicans are, by way of embracing an all-inclusive pluralism, "backing away from their 'calling' to evangelize other faiths."  According to the story, there is also the concern that the American Episcopal bishop, Katherine Jefferts-Schori, may be suggesting that Jesus Christ is not the only way to salvation.

For me the issue of evangelization brings to mind the fairly recent clarification from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith entitled Doctrinal Note on Some Aspects of Evangelization as well as Dominus Iesus.

While we cannot back away from the sacred truths of the faith, nor can we take lightly the duty to evangelize all peoples, we still must exercise prudence in the way we present the truths of the faith.  In such a sensitive society as we live overall, and given the great hope that lies in our faith, it would appear that we are also duty bound to present the faith in such a way that we do not offend because of our style of presentation. 

However, if the Lordship of Christ is found to be offensive, how is this different from what the gospels and New Testament books teach anyhow?  Indeed there will be offenses made simply by the message itself, and such has always been known.

Interestingly, I think there is some correlation--a common thread--between the ecclesial politics of sexuality and the question of evangelization and pluralism.  It has to do with how willing we are to allow the light of Christ to shine in all quarters of the world and in all aspects of human life.  If Jesus is to redeem us, we must allow him to enter our world and engage the multiple variations of human experience.  Where Christ cannot go, his love--the power to transform--is ineffective.