Deacon Dan Wright

On Forgiveness and Reconciliation: Amnesty

If ever I were asked to pick a theme for the Christian religion on the whole, I believe that theme would have to be God’s great clemency and forbearance in dealing with humanity. Another way of saying it is that in God there is complete amnesty.

Actually, I was asked recently to make a presentation on the topic of God for a class on Catholic teachings. The presentation was to take a couple hours. Regardless of the many possible things there were to say, I never seemed to be able to move too far from the concept of forgiveness and reconciliation.

My question at the presentation, and for us tonight, is whether there can really be true forgiveness without reconciliation. However, you need not fear. I don’t plan to take two hours with this homily, and actually I want to take it in a slightly different direction.

While it is important to consider that forgiveness without reconciliation, without a true mending of ways, is somewhat empty, the greater consideration has to do with how we actualize God’s clemency in our world today through our deeds, attitudes, and beliefs. Our being the agents of God in how we live—what we say and do—is indeed the litmus test of who we really are. We should not forget, as today’s gospel reminds us, that weeds have been sown among the wheat. Part of what we do each day, the way we treat others, even what we stand for or against, decides whether we are children of light or of darkness.

Every moment of every day provides opportunities to be like God. I know, being godlike ranks pretty high in aspirations of spirituality. However, that is exactly what living a life of righteousness entails. Still, there is something important, often missed, that needs to be pointed out to all of us, and I include myself. There’s often confusion about what being godlike looks like. We tend often to overlook the amnesty, lenience, mercy, and kindness that are the true aspects of God, and instead we go somehow to judgment as our model.

Too often our piety becomes a judgmental and halting hand, rather than a welcoming and reconciling embrace. Too often real need gets ignored because of lofty principles, at least as such in our esteem, that we feel we need to protect. The failure to be like God also lives out in the lives of us who are too quick to go to the letter of the law while giving no regard to the spirit of it, and rather than standing among those who were sown as good seed, we find ourselves fooled, duped, often by nothing more than irrational fear. We have frequently and without intention, unawares, and perhaps even out of a desire to preserve the strict sense of our religious purity or national identity, become the weeds growing among the wheat of the harvest.

Nevertheless, at any moment when we realize that our lives reveal more judgment than clemency, we may still say, “I repent of what I have become. I turn my back on my failure to be an agent of kindness, forgiveness, reconciliation, and peace.” Said in sincerity with the intention to do what is good, this counts for much.

The tone of the gospel today, more than warning us of the weeds among the harvest, warns us to be sure beyond a doubt that we have not been somehow tricked, even by our own willful complacency, into being the weeds sown among God’s harvest. Always we are mindful that we may at any time in our lives present ourselves to the God who allows repentance.

Our role is always to be those who hold the branches of peace, forbearance, and clemency in our hands. We must learn not to count the cost involved in reconciliation. We must learn to take a risk and live somewhat dangerously. We must learn to be forgivers who intend reconciliation as part of forgiveness. We must not say, “I forgive but I will never forget.” Still, with that said, it is not that we are ever to forget great evil that has been done. Much to the contrary, we must always be on guard against real evil.

Recently I went on vacation to Washington, DC and New York City.  While in Washington I had the opportunity to visit to the National Holocaust Memorial Museum. The museum visit was a good reminder of the need for guarding against evil, or in other words, of being certain that similar evil does not occur again. While there, the words “Never Again” took on a fresh meaning to me.

A good example has to do with how we react—both in action and attitude—to those who come to this nation to escape the dangers of crime and injustice, or most often just to make a better life for themselves. While in DC at the Holocaust Museum I learned about the voyage of the MS St. Louis in 1939. During the time of the Nazi occupation about a thousand Jewish refugees aboard the St. Louis sought asylum in the US, but once here they were turned back to Europe on account of strict immigration quotas. Many of those aboard the St. Louis perished in the death camps.

Being godlike means standing up not to allow something similar to happen again. What would we say to the passengers of the St. Louis today? Would we tell them that we cannot admit everyone? Would we mumble that our nation will be overrun by foreigners? Would we fear crime and violence on our streets?

As people of God, we cannot allow evil to triumph—great or small. Never should we be hard of heart, legalistic, or driven by ideologies of any kind that stand against the basic truth of goodness toward human beings in need. I recently heard that another word for tough love—in case that holds some appeal—is soft hate. Never should we be guilty of hate of any kind, and always we should be wise to its appearance as something else, something acceptable or good. Part of the lesson of the weeds among wheat is that evil loves to masquerade as good. Never should we refuse to do what is really good when that good can be done, and always we should be willing to unmask evil.

We all hold the ability to do miracles, and our single act of clemency, one act of acceptance, one single embrace, may be the miracle that someone needs at the time. At every moment we must look to the light and aspire to be saints, even better, to be angels in the lives of others. We hear a lot about fear, but we should keep in mind that the opposite of fear is courage. Do we want to be known as a cowardly people of fear, or as a great people of courage?

In being the people of God, the wheat among tares, we must learn to hear the groaning of the Spirit; of that which calls out to the Most High from the depths of basic human need. We must learn to give and forgive, to welcome and to heal, and offer our open arms without expectation of return. Our goal as the people of God is to rise to greatness; it is to live as a people of royal righteousness—a righteousness and courage that imitates God: a righteousness that cannot separate forgiveness from the acts of reconciliation. It begins with our prayer, our deepest personal prayer, for our own reconciliation.

On Tolerance

For some time I have considered writing a piece—even something brief—on tolerance. Tolerance seems to me to be something that goes along with Christian values in such a way that I wouldn’t necessarily expect it to be challenged. However, I don’t have to look far to find opposition. It seems that there’s not much tolerance for tolerance these days.

When I get an idea to write about something it typically comes from one of several sources. Often actual encounters—say, conversations with my family—are the source of inspiration. Generally I find my kids to be fairly tolerant people, though at times they’ll surprise me. Sometimes they cause me to wonder if there is a climate of intolerance overall, but with them it tends to be something as simple as not being able to tolerate the tastes in music of others.

At other times I get my inspiration from something I’ve seen in the news, but cases of intolerance that find their way into the news tend to be severe. Most recently I’ve been able to get ideas—at least for this post—from what I see people post on various forms of social media and blogs, and once in a while something from a friend on Facebook. Unfortunately in the attitudes of ordinary people I sometimes find a good bit of intolerance and occasionally it’s even directed at the notion of being tolerant itself.

When I see someone say something like, “I’m going to go ahead and say this even though I know the tolerance police are not far away” then I know the best thing to do might be to skip it, but I rarely do this. They hook me; I read what they have to say, and I rarely come away feeling like the world is becoming a more open-minded place.

The fact is that tolerance isn’t a bad thing and we shouldn’t sit by quietly when someone tries to paint it as such. It reminds me of a few years back when the easy target was "political correctness." I always thought that those who were opposed to political correctness should preface whatever they’re going to say with “Excuse my bad manners, but…” Really, being opposed to tolerance is the same kind of thing. It comes from a failure to recognize the legitimacy of other people in their views, their self identity, and their essential humanity.

Tolerance is a Christian value, though I wouldn’t say that Christians have exclusive rights to it, and as such it’s one of the things that most attracts me to Christianity. Actually, I feel an obligation—a duty—to stand for tolerance because in doing so I am standing up for others and that is precisely what Jesus taught us to do. The truest meaning of the word “others” is that it refers to those who are most unlike us.

Sadly, it’s easy to find intolerance nowadays in values that some are putting forth as being Christian (though I doubt the label applies). Intolerance is also easy to find among those who feel they’re defending something patriotic or traditionally American. Christianity and the tolerance and love that Jesus taught demand that we learn to transcend our presupposed values and see through the eyes of those who are most unlike us. There has never been a time when it wasn't perfectly clear to me that the values taught by Jesus far transcend any notions or ideals of nationalism. I think we can learn to see the same thing when it comes to sectarian differences.

As Christians, one of the primary places we need to consider being tolerant is when it comes to people whose religion, whose expression of faith, is different than ours, and although I’m primarily thinking of Islam as an example it’s not hard to find religious intolerance directed—by so-called Christians—toward Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and perhaps as a recent trend toward liberal mainline Protestants. However with the latter the intolerance has taken the more subtle form of “They’re declining in numbers anyhow so who really cares?” It’s not hard to find this same kind of intolerance directed toward liberal or progressive Catholics who might be seen as being too concerned with social justice over other more "tolerable" positions.

We who follow Jesus have a duty to stand up against the oppression of others. For example, when we learn of a community that is trying to stand in the way of a house of worship being constructed, as has been the case in Murfreesboro, Tennessee recently, as well as other notable places, it’s time to speak out. It’s time to label groups who promote opposition to others faiths for what they are: hate groups. This is just one of the activities that has led me to value and support the work of the SPLC for many years.

Another area where legitimized intolerance—hate—is seeking to gain ground is in regard to the LGBT community. Regardless of what our particular religion has to say about sexuality, we do not have license to be against other human beings. This is as clear as I can say it. The Christianity that I have been taught has instilled the value that we are not to judge and condemn others. This is a sensitive area for me because as a deacon I have an obligation to be faithful to Church teaching. However, never has the Church taught me to have a closed mind or turn away from anyone. Never has the Church taught me to deny human rights or reject another human being on any basis. Intolerance begins as a subtle negative attitude and grows.

Years ago before my ordination to the diaconate, I volunteered at the University of Texas Catholic Center. I was helping with the fall ministry fair, which had been going all morning. One table was for a ministry offered for and by gay Catholic students. There was a sign up list and I noticed that no one who had visited that day had signed the list. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the fellow who had stood at that table all morning as students had walked by without signing. It was approaching late afternoon and most everyone had gone already. I walked over to the table and signed my name on the list for the ministry. I simply said, “However I can help let me know.” When I signed I did so somewhat reluctantly because I noticed that the pastor, who I knew well, and who likewise knew me, was watching. As I stepped away from the table I turned around momentarily just in time to see the pastor also signing the list. At least it had two names that day. Sometimes being tolerant may put us in an uncomfortable position, but tolerance is like faith: it is intertwined with courage.

One might be tempted to think that in the year 2012 racism isn’t as much an issue as it once was. To believe this would be incredibly blind. Racism still exists—sometimes hidden in our seemingly harmless attitudes or the jokes we hear and choose to laugh at—and we are called to recognize it and eradicate it. Intolerance toward those who are racially or ethnically different from us is easily recognized in attitudes that oppose immigration reform or that say those who were not born here do not belong here.  Christians are called to be givers, and this includes giving others the opportunity to live in our nation. We are called to give freely and completely, and there is absolutely nothing to fear in it.

As a Christian I am called to see all people of the world as my brothers and sisters. Recently here in Texas I’ve seen political advertisements of a candidate who swears he will secure the borders. What is the source of this fear? What is it that would make others go on a campaign to hold up a halting hand of rejection rather than extend a hand of welcome? Christianity is about offering what we have and sharing it with others. It is social; it is progressive, and it is based on what Jesus taught us to be and to do.

The role of tolerance as I see it is twofold. First, tolerance asks us to be accepting of and open to all people, but especially of those whose values, whose faith or even lack thereof, whose sexuality, race, nationality, language, immigration status, disability, health or even level of education is different from our own. Second, tolerance demands that we speak the truth always and take a stand for those who are the object of intolerance regardless of how unpopular our stance may be.

Tolerance is a Christian value but it goes far beyond the confines of one religion. A sign of the success of Christianity, far from the numbers we attract on Sunday, is how faithful we are to our values and how we apply them to society as a whole. When we teach tolerance in time we will find that others may be much more willing to tolerate us. We can judge the success of Christianity by how committed we are to others. Our job, as Fr. Roy Bourgeois once said, is not to be effective but to be faithful. Thanks to many honest, courageous, and tolerant people, we may learn what it truly means to be faithful.

Revisiting St. Thomas the Apostle: Patron of All who Have Doubted

When I first began my blog about six years ago, I felt that the Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle was an important date for us to bear in mind as a community of believers. That post is still here, and I think that what I was getting at in 2006 is perhaps even more important to us now in 2012.

Many years ago, long before I had place to post my thoughts on the Internet, a wise priest told me that someday I would find my personal patron saint. Since then I've considered more than one who has indirectly influenced my life--people like Blessed Mother Theresa of Calcutta or perhaps Dorothy Day: people who gave their lives for the poor of the earth. In my search for serving in justice and charity these have stood out. However, I'm not sure now that I would consider them to be my patron saints. A personal patron ought to be one whose life somehow reaches deep to cross paths with our own. With a patron saint we make a deeply personal connection.

In 2006 on the feast day of St. Thomas I considered the doubt that existed in the world then. I considered what I read in the news of increasingly vocal opposition to belief, and moved by that opposition and unbelief I wrote to it. My point of view hasn't changed really at all: belief is now challenged more than ever it seems. In way that may seem strange to many Christian believers I tend to identify deeply with Thomas the doubter, and I identify with those who have a hard time believing. I think we tend to believe in the wrong things while we overlook the most obvious. If there has been a patron saint in my life it will mostly likely turn out to be St. Thomas the Apostle before any of the other noble inspirations I might mention here.

As with my earlier post, I still believe in looking beyond the empirical objective world for the deepest realities. I believe in and I look to qualitative experiences of the lifeworld, the "down and dirty" and "nitty-gritty" of life, to find the stuff of faith. For me faith can't be so much about the things that demand scientific proofs, rather faith is about life as it is experienced. If faith is about merely believing, about blindly accepting and following--without questioning, reflecting, or grappling with doubt--then I would be among those whose doubts are overwhelming. I might count myself among the unbelievers. However, I am a believer and I believe that life offers evidence daily in itself for what I believe in.

While opposition to Christianity in our world seems stronger than ever, the greatest challenges to faith don't necessarily come from anti-Christian or atheistic claims. The greatest opposition comes from our willingness to take hold of what is false and our unwillingness, perhaps our fear, to seek out the truth with clarity. It comes from our unwillingness to search beneath the surface and explore the deepest layers of experience. Faith is about having the courage to hang on when there aren't any readily available answers on the surface at the moment.

In 2006 I hinted in my post that there is a problem with being both an ideologue and a believer. The two are in opposition to one another. I hinted that we have to move beyond legalistic and political positions. Well here we are in 2012 and we aren't necessarily better off. I look around and I see those who claim to have faith battling those who they see as their opponents with politics and legalistic religion. We seem to want to put out the fire by pouring gas on it. Instead of faith we choose dogma. Instead of looking to the world and passion of human life we look to the dead letter of the law. Instead of Jesus, Christians choose politics. Humanity--like that of Christ--with all its earthiness, tends to be looked to last when we consider the stuff of faith. I think this is a huge mistake. It is part of the dupe of all dupes.

A few years ago when I learned of the doubts that Mother Teresa reportedly had in her life I was concerned. Now at this point in my life I am no longer worried about it so much. Doubt is part of belief and I actually would seriously question the faith of one who claimed to have never doubted. 

Indeed our world offers us a great deal to be doubtful about, though often it is in a negative and unhealthy way. Unfortunately sometimes the public expression of our faith, our religion, also offers us plenty to be doubtful about. Whenever certain quarters of Christianity begin to demand fanatic following; when so-called faith begins to demand ideological or political allegiance; when it overlooks the experiences of real-life people caught up in real-life struggles, then how can we help but feel a temptation to doubt and even to walk away in despair?

It's really no coincidence that I write this post on the eve of Independence Day after a long hiatus from blogging anything but an occasional homily. For me the greatest enemy of true Christianity is and always has been the idols we place before having faith in that which truly should be the ground of all we believe: the Holy.

We make our idols now not in the form of wood and stone, but in the form of nation, party, and ideology. We tend to elevate our ideals to the level of the things that are sacrosanct in the faith. We set aside the deeper and harder to grasp realities of belief for more concrete and graspable ideologies. We replace the word of faith with the notions of state and freedom. We place our banners and flags next to our shrine and our altars too often have become the soapbox of mere political wrangling or the places to honor and elevate ideas that are in no way equal to the mystery symbolized by those sacred places.

True belief makes certain demands or challenges on our part and we are better off by taking them. To be faithful we remain courageous when faced with challenges and doubts. We admit that we may not always have the answers. Faith asks us to take a position that might put us in a dangerous spot: it asks us to stand for truth in a time when eyes have become blind to it.

Faith demands that we have a vision of a world where there is fairness, peace, and justice, and in faith we work to bring those about. Faith demands that we take a position that may be unpopular because it doesn't lend support to the idols or the idolaters or to their ideals. Belief demands that we explore the texture of humanity, which never really comes in a neat and clean package, and that we look squarely at those things that tend to challenge us most; that is, at those things which cause us to be most fearful and most doubtful. Faith demands that we leave the idols and ideologies behind for the reality of life as we live it. Faith asks us to be honest about our deepest doubts, and faith opens a world for us where we can finally touch that which is most real.

It turns out that our greatest threats to faith, and our greatest threats to freedom--if that is what concerns us--is our all too easy willingness to accept an imitation of the real thing. We have to be like Thomas: we have to reach out and touch the humanity that has experienced the cross. We touch it by making contact with each other and especially with those who suffer. We recall that the all-in-all of our believing walked among us to teach us not to be Pharisees, scribes, or even good citizens of Rome. He came to have his hands, feet, and side pierced and he asks us to touch his humanity, and nothing aside from this will do. 

 

Pope Benedict XVI's 30-year campaign to reassert conservative Catholicism - CSMonitor.com

In the past 30 years, the Vatican has moved strongly to reassert the authority of a traditional, even orthodox Roman Catholicism – to bring the notion of a "one true church" to Europe and then the larger world. The intent was to reverse the "open" or liberalizing trend of the church represented by Vatican II.

via www.csmonitor.com

If reasserting conservative Catholicism were to mean connecting to the richness and tradition of the faith, and it meant making the faith present in a clear and understandable manner to the world today, whose moral paradigms often differ sharply from those of the Church, then I would support it wholeheartedly. 

However, we need not look far to see a world ready to abandon what it may see as a religion that has not borne fruit. Any move that involves the Church retreating into its own system is sure to bring only further misunderstanding. My original embracing of Catholicism nearly 20 years ago came about because I saw a positive force at work in the Church, a force that held the potential to fulfill the deepest longings and questions of life. For me, it was an experience that I understood as somehow--perhaps mystically--connected to the experience of the first Christians. For me it was, frankly, a pentecostal experience. There was something in the Church that had the power to transform my life.

I believe that the same potential still exists, but we won't get it--and we won't be able to share it with others--by embracing ideology. Our world, both in the Church and outside it, tends to see religious conservatism as having a connection or kinship to the politics of the Right, and this worries me. It worries me not because my views differ from those of the Right--and they often do--but because of something I've known a for long time, and something that I've lived out in my own life, namely that being orthodox in one's religion doesn't mean that we have to buy into a political system that staunchly shuts the door in the face of whatever doesn't fit into the system. Orthodoxy, or conservatism, in faith does not necessarily equate with conservatism in politics.

Of course Christians are free to choose whatever system of politics they feel comfortable with, but we have an obligation to allow our faith to inform our politics rather than letting politics force itself on our faith. The Christian faith that I embraced long ago hasn't changed--it's still the same positive force in my life that it has always been. It's the forward-looking and open-minded love of my fellow human beings that compels me to desire fruitful dialog aimed at overcoming the biggest challenges of living in the world today: the differences between ourselves and others. It compels me to reach out to the world with the positive power of healing life's biggest injustices and wounds.

If purity and truth of faith are what the Church desires, the realization of such will be obtained not by prohibition but transformation. Many years ago I recall a sermon given by an Episcopalian priest on the marks of true Christian faith. Essentially she said that true faith can be easily recognized because it informs you of what it is for, rather than what it is against.

True faith may certainly be interested in the preservation of its most cherished values: It may be for the value of chastity for example, but does this necessitate a statement against anything in particular? Does the Church's definitions of what it values, say marriage, or perhaps ordination, need to be demanded of others before dialog or explanation occur? Especially this is true if the desire of the Church is to win others over to being receptive to the power that can transform life. If a religious system is truly universal then it needs to stand ready to embrace a universe of difference--a universe that may appear to be at odds with what it holds as sacred in some respects. Here, again, the obligation of faith is to better inform, and to do it in a clear and cogent manner.

We Catholics have a tendency to leave things up to the hierarchy--especially in matters of faith and morals--but I believe there is an obligation for every Catholic, every Christian, to enter meaningful dialog and explore the difficult questions and real-life issues that exist. If the Christian religion is going to survive it will be because individual Christians will begin to shed the mask of ideology and embrace life completely with all the baggage that comes with it.

Intolerance, Broken Religion, Fear, and the Faith of Anne Rice

Ever since I added religion to my news feed I've been tempted to return to blogging my thoughts on stories more frequently. For a long time the majority of what I've posted has been Sunday sermons and occasional reflections--just mostly innocuous stuff with an interest limited perhaps to the parish. Seems that back during the presidential election year not all my opinions on the news were appreciated by everyone, and I was busy with other things, so I backed away from commenting on news--with the intention of it being temporary. With that being said, I'll go ahead and take the big risk of not keeping my thoughts and opinions to myself. 

I noticed recently that a friend remarked how the "Angry Bearded Catholic Bloggers Club" (ABCBC) were "going nuts" with Anne Rice's rejection of the faith that she returned to after having rejected it once upon a time long ago (I have to admit: I'm not a member of the ABCBC). I hope the title of my post today isn't too much, but I feel like it encapsulates what I've been seeing in the religion news.

Whatever the news brings us, or what others might comment in its regard, the response from people of faith shouldn't be driven by intolerance or fear. These are actually the antitheses, among innumerable others, of true faith. If we are secure in what we believe, we don't have anything to be afraid of. On the contrary, we ought to be willing to let others be who they are in their belief, and in their choice of how they practice it, or even the total lack thereof.

Having true faith, in my opinion, means striving toward what is positive and best in life, and it also means rolling up our sleeves and working to change what is negative or broken. True faith means taking a risk and reaching out to other people. For me, this doesn't include my having to get you to believe the same thing that I believe in terms of religion, and it certainly doesn't mean losing touch with sanity in order to recognize that life on earth is sacred.

Unfortunately, all too often people's experience of religion is that of something broken. Often they struggle within themselves and they feel that the bad relationship they have must be ended. It's like coming away from bad love relationship or a marriage that didn't work. You can give up on the relationship without giving up on love, and this is really where I think Anne Rice may be coming from. Her experience of religion is one that is broken. However, she still recognizes the validity of what was at the basis of it to start.

Where I want to end this, without it becoming too long, is by saying that Christians have an obligation to enter each others' struggles in a positive way. We have an obligation to apply the healing balm of friendship and acceptance, and always we have an obligation to meet people just where they are in life without any expectations of making them be like us in any way. In other words we have the duty to reach out with tolerance, to fix what is broken, to cast out fear, and to make the world a truly positive place by struggling to overcome its greatest challenges.

Austin Has a New Bishop!

This was emailed to me this morning from the Diocese of Austin

 

AUSTIN – Habemus episcopum! (We have a bishop!)

Pope Benedict XVI has named Auxiliary Bishop Joe S. Vásquez, of the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston as Bishop of the Diocese of Austin. Bishop Vásquez will be the fifth bishop of Austin and the first Mexican-American to lead the diocese.

"I wish to thank Pope Benedict XVI for the confidence he has placed in me in naming me shepherd of the Diocese of Austin," he said. "I also offer prayers of gratitude this day for Daniel Cardinal DiNardo, Archbishop Emeritus Joseph A. Fiorenza and the priests, religious and laity of the Archdiocese for forming me as a bishop. Most of all, I give thanks to God for the gift of priesthood, which has brought me such joy for 25 years. I trust in the Holy Spirit to enlighten me for this next step in my journey."

The Apostolic Nuncio to the U.S., Archbishop Pietro Sambi, made the announcement in Washington on Tuesday morning.

Bishop Vásquez, 52, was ordained as a bishop in January 2002 and has served as Galveston-Houston's auxiliary bishop since then. Since 2006, Bishop Vasquez has been the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston's Vicar General/Chancellor, overseeing the administrative operations of the largest diocese in Texas and the 11th largest diocese in the U.S. He has also served as Episcopal Vicar for Hispanics and he has been the Archdiocesan Liaison for Youth during his years in Galveston-Houston.

Bishop Vásquez was born July 9, 1957 in Stamford, Texas to Juan and Elvira Vásquez (deceased). He is the oldest child and has three brothers: Robert Vásquez, Samuel Vásquez (deceased) and James Vásquez and two sisters: Cynthia Martínez and Consuelo Elrod. He attended public schools in Stamford and Abilene and then studied theology at the University of St. Thomas in Houston from 1976 to 1980. He attended the Gregorian University, North American College, in Rome from 1980 to 1985. He was ordained a priest for the Diocese of San Angelo on June 30, 1984 by Bishop Joseph A. Fiorenza.

In the Diocese of San Angelo he served as associate pastor of St. Joseph Parish in Odessa from 1985 to 1987; as pastor of St. Joseph Parish in Fort Stockton from 1987 to 1997 and as pastor of St. Joseph Parish in San Angelo from 1997 to 2002.

The Mass of Installation will be March 8 at a yet-to-be determined location.

Bishop Vásquez succeeds Bishop Gregory Aymond who was appointed Archbishop of New Orleans by Pope Benedict XVI last year. Since that time, Msgr. W. Michael Mulvey has been leading the diocese as Administrator. On Jan. 18, Pope Benedict XVI named Msgr. Mulvey as Bishop of Corpus Christi.

The Diocese of Austin includes 127 parishes and missions in 25 Central Texas counties spread over 19,000 square miles. There are approximately 500,000 Catholics within the diocese.

Pope on Priests and the Digital Media

I was delighted today to discover that the pope is asking priests to begin making wider use of digital media such as blogs in order to evangelize. For several years now I have strongly held that the Internet provides one of the best means ever to take the gospel to the entire world.  

Electronic evagelization is something that all of us can take part in--I note the numerous blogs by Catholic laypeople and certainly the good number already in existence by priests (many fewer by deacons such as myself)--but the priest has a special call to take the gospel to all the world. Therefore, it is very encouraging to see the pope's support for priests in this area.

A number of years ago I recall hearing someone with far-reaching insight say that with the Internet we have to avoid the mistake we made with Television in terms of not using it to it's fullest potential. Of course there are notable efforts, such as EWTN and televised Masses, in existence already in terms of television, but there's room for much more.  

The pope speaks of the Church exercising a "diaconia" of culture, and of course this is something that we can all be involved in bringing about. I pray that whatever efforts I put in here on this blog will be an inspiration to all people--lay, religious, and clergy--to take a greater role in bringing the gospel to all the world. However, even more we should all pray that the media may be used to spread Christian values and culture in a world where more often than not the media serves purposes that are opposed to the gospel.

Here is a direct link to the Pope's message. 

Congratulations to Msgr. Micheal Mulvey

I learned this morning that Msgr. Michael Mulvey, the Administrator for the currently vacant Diocese of Austin, has been named as the new bishop of Corpus Christi.  Msgr. Mulvey will succeed Bishop Edmond Carmody, a native of Ireland, who was actually the new Bishop of Tyler, Texas shortly after I went through the RCIA in that diocese.

Msgr. Mulvey was part of a group of 359 priests ordained by Pope Paul VI on June 29, 1975, the Feast of Ss. Peter and Paul, which was also the 12th anniversary of Paul VI's papacy.  Interestingly it's reported that a good number of that group have gone on to become bishops.

Best wishes and congratulations to Msgr. Mulvey.  He will be missed here in Austin.  Now with even greater intensity we anticipate the naming of our new bishop...

The Lesson of Meeting Hate With Love: Reflecting on Martin Luther King Jr.

Recently a coworker asked me what I thought the significance is of celebrating Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  Too often those of us who get the day off from work—teachers, government employees, students and others—may tend not to think all that much about why we have the day away from our work, but instead we may treat it as just another day off. 

I believe it’s a mistake for us not to reflect upon and consider the significance of this holiday.  In fact, we really ought to find some way to celebrate it actively.  We ought to find some action by which we can incorporate the meaning of the holiday into our lives.  I want to offer a suggestion: we can allow Martin Luther King Jr. Day to be the occasion for a renewed commitment to making peace in our world.  In the name of Martin Luther King Jr., that is, in the name of all the good that he stood for, we can commit to a daily act of peacemaking in order for the world to be a better place for everyone, a place of true freedom and mutual respect; a place of true justice and hope.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day is about the dream that he had, and a dream for us to share.  His was a dream of peace; a dream of cooperation and equality.  Dr. King’s dream included all Americans—no, more than that.  His dream is a dream for every man, woman, and child of planet earth.  It is a dream that I find to be in keeping with everything that I’ve been taught about the true significance of living the life in Christ.  It is a dream where I see in the faces of all people my brothers and sisters, my family, and my friends.  Dr. King’s dream is a vision of a world free from oppression and hostility; free from hatred, inequality, injustice, and ignorance.  How could we not make it our own?  How could we not live it today?

The lesson that I take from Dr. King, and that I commit to live, is the lesson of meeting hate with love.  In a conversation with a friend recently I mentioned that Dr. King taught that we must meet hate with love.  I went on to say that to do so is certainly not the “natural” thing to do.  Much to the contrary, it’s natural to meet hate with repulsion, and often with aggression.  My friend told me that meeting hate with love is supernatural, and indeed to do so requires that we tap into God’s reservoir of grace.  Something I want to emphasize here is that it’s far from impossible to meet hate with love.  In fact, meeting hate with love should be the habitual Christian stance.  It’s the real way that each of us will change the world one person at a time.

Take a few moments today to consider the significance of Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  Incorporate it into your prayer life if you will.  Ask God to make you a vessel of peace.  Consider today the significance of this great Christian leader who asked us to share his dream.  Consider the value of peacemaking and nonviolence as a way of bringing about a transformed world.  Moreover, reflect on the real responsibility that each of us must take to do something to make peace a reality.

Let us go forward together and always meet hate with love.  Love has the power to transform, and all who encounter true love will remain forever changed by it.

Media Reports Avatar Opposed by Church, Political Right

It's only been a couple days since I did my post on "Peace and Ecology."  In it I added my take on the film "Avatar."   Since then I’ve found ample stories on the Vatican and the political right being critical of the film.  I suppose my comments were timely.  It bothers me a little though that the media seems to be trying to portray the Vatican as being narrow-minded.  If anything the pope’s New Year’s address on peacemaking through protecting the environment should prove otherwise.   

Concerning “Avatar” I mentioned briefly in a paragraph what stood out to me in relation to my overall post, and really I'm no film critic but several things appeared clear to me. In my view of the film I mentioned that it seemed to convey a message of opposition to exploitation, though it’s not developed well.  The film also clearly has an underlying philosophy of pantheism and neo-paganism, which are not compatible with Christianity. Add to that the portrayal of the worst militaristic and capitalistic stereotypes imaginable, which are abundant and not easy to find likeable, and you end up with an overall poor view of humanity.  I'll repeat what I actually said, though if you scroll down the page to the January 11 post you can read it in context:

…as a society we tend to listen closely to what film and other media presents.  Undoubtedly "Avatar" expresses a strong theme of respect for nature, but it also has a strong underlying theme of pantheism and neo-paganism based on nature worship.  While I believe the film presents a good message on the importance of being opposed to environmental exploitation, it unfortunately plays too heavily on militaristic stereotypes, demonizes humanity, and is rather pessimistic concerning the future of the human race overall.  In the end it comes off as little more than an epic sci-fi tale of cowboys and Indians.

Now, I must add that I actually enjoyed the movie quite a bit.  In terms of exciting action it had me hanging on the edge of my seat for better than two thirds of the film.  However, I agree with much of what I've read about a lack of depth, though depth is not what gets movie goers out.  We live in a world where depth more often confuses people and they would rather get the simple version.  Frankly, film provides an excellent escape.  It has value often just in its ability to entertain and offer a momentary step back from the events of the week.

So “Avatar” doesn’t disappoint.  It has entertainment value.  It also expresses a simplistic view, one that has roused strong sentiment on both the political left and the right.  I find it interesting that those who can have their political feathers ruffled on either side don't actually need a lot of depth to get them going.  Rather, they seem to thrive on the more shallow expressions of real issues and the accompanying implications.  

I would have personally preferred that the film went into greater depth in making an anti-war message clear.  It could have done better to explore the real need for true environmental activism. It could have better explored the detrimental effects of unchecked capitalism.  It might have even gotten into a deeper exploration of the existential dilemmas of the characters.  However, it only had three hours for all of this and in some ways it did a good job of at least touching on these subjects. 

I found it interesting that the folks at beliefnet.com seem to be not too concerned with the heterodox challenges of pantheism or neo-paganism, rather they seem to feel that the obvious fictions of the science fiction presents a bigger challenge:

But while it's a given that the media outlets of the Catholic Church will, and should, take a particular theological stance on any bit of pop culture that may get reviewed in their pages or on their airwaves, I can't help but think, "Really? Neo-pagan nature worship is a real sticking point here?" What about the fact that human bodies no longer hold special significance, that human consciousness can be transferred into genetically-crafted empty vessels, Na'vi avatars, manufactured through a means of asexual, gene-manipulated reproduction, "matured" on a spacecraft and then decanted? And that's just one example. To worry about pantheism, and that a 3-D movie might inspire a little too much tree-hugging, just seems so antiquated, so very early Church, especially in a world full of poverty, war, and challenging scientific questions.

Actually, when it comes to a world of poverty, war, and challenging scientific questions, I don’t believe the Catholic Church has been silent. Clearly the Church has great concern with such issues and does so in a way that transcends the polemics of political ideology.