Fr Peter's newsletter notes - November 2005

Rome remains the same and true to its first Apostles

Last Sunday was the first time that I had seen Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger as Pope Benedict XVI. Standing in St Peter's square, along with throngs of other pilgrims and tourists, I was surprised how different he seems to his predecessor, Pope John Paul II. There were plenty of obvious signs, the shorter address, the fewer languages, and the different form of hand movements. Perhaps the key difference between them is what has been described by his biographer, George Weigel, as John Paul's 'Polish soul'. John Paul II had experienced at first hand the sufferings of his people in both world wars, and at the hands of the Nazis and communists. His writings are imbued with the reality of suffering, but also of the great mercy of God, and the maternal intercession of the Virgin Mary.

The present Holy Father looks in contrast quiet old-fashioned and reserved, much more like Pope Paul VI. The waiving of his clasped hands above his head reminded me so much of Paul VI. The ability that Pope John Paul II had to 'wear his heart on his sleeve' is a particular grace from God, and looks completely insincere for those not given this particular charism. God gave Paul VI and Benedict XVI different gifts. This only reinforces my conviction that the continuity of the Papacy, and indeed the continuity of the Church through the ages, is only possible by receiving and accepting the graces given to each of us by God. These graces are united through a common source, the Good News about Jesus Christ. Hence there will be similarities between Popes, and between countless Catholics, both living and dead. The similarities that we share should not blind us to the need to make these graces our own.

Rome is a city of tradition, and every Church is full of the mementos of those who have gone before, from the famous to the obscure. The pilgrimage group attended Thursday evening Mass in the apse of St Peter's and, while waiting for Mass to begin, gave a chance to study some of the papal tombs. Some popes looked weighed down by mighty bronze copes, while others sit serenely between angels and the marble personifications of virtue. Elsewhere in St Peter's, popes are resting from their labours, some under simple slabs of marble, others with carved effigies on the lids of their coffins. It all combines to give a remarkable testimony to the continuity of the Petrine office over the ages. The celebration of Mass in the Basilica on Sunday with other pilgrims, and by ourselves on early Monday morning in the crypt, helped us to participate in this continuous flow of tradition that finds its source in the perfect worship established by Jesus Christ.

The Basilica's sacristy in the early morning sunshine of Monday looked like a busy railway terminus with priests and altar servers heading out to say Mass somewhere in the Basilica while others were returning, leaving their groups to visit the tomb of Pope John Paul II in relative peace. The efficient multi-lingual chaos of the sacristy revealed a seriousness of intent amongst those who work there and those who visit to seek the graces at the tomb of the first apostle. The strength sought at the centre, like every God given grace, is not something to be jealously guarded but to be shared with others. The visit to the centre should always bring extra strength to the home mission, which in our case is St Mary Moorfields.

Open up to the Spirit of truth

One of the bureaucratic delights of being a Parish Priest is receiving through the post information packs for the various themed Sundays that occur throughout the year. I am not sure why Christ the King Sunday has been lumbered with 'Youth Sunday' because they do not raise any immediate connections in my mind. Anyone who has had to listen to pundits pontificating about youth culture, both in and out of the Church, can grasp all too easily that the theory is very much a manufactured concept. More often than not it merely reflects the memories of those defining the class. Like everyone else, young people do not conform to one particular type of person. On the outside they may all look much the same, and so compared to the 1960s and even the 1970s, that decade of sartorial excess, contemporary clothes look essentially conformist but that is where the similarity between them ends.

Young people belong to a diverse culture that has been moulded by many different influences. These may be arranged into two or possibly three dimensions. The two key ones are peer influence and the historical inheritance from their family, factors which interact with each other. The difficulties that so many young people encounter stem from the collapse of this historical inheritance of the family. Thus the weakening of the memory of how they should act leads them open to the excesses of peer group pressure. The traditional guidelines and parameters on pre-marital sex, drug taking and excess alcohol have been lost and, without them, all the above become pressures of the age, absolutely 'normal' and therefore 'right'.

However, into this mix of peer pressure and family inheritance steps that unknown guest who can so easily upset this cosy world of excess and conformity with the times. This, oft-times unwanted guest, the Holy Spirit, asks the truth about ourselves and about what we really expect from life. The Church can offer the answer, but only to those who ask the question. The answer cannot be imposed, whatever the age or occupation.

Perhaps this is where the kingship of Christ unites with 'Youth' as it does with each of us, but especially with young people who face questions about their future with so much more intensity. This kingship is not revealed as a cold despotic rule, but of love that rescues His hapless subjects from their own sin and folly. This rescue involves our own transformation so that we in turn can become servants of the truth. The Gospel reading attached to this Sunday Feast is not about power but service. The final judgement comes down to the simple statement, 'as you did it to the least of these you did it to me'. No believer can claim this is beyond his or her competence, and this task simultaneously involves opening up the person to the Spirit of truth, allowing it to permeate their whole being.

Advent is the time to make our home a true place of Christian life

The ability to queue has always been thought of as a very English trait. Indeed every Christmas one sees on TV huddles of eccentrics camping in orderly lines outside major London department stores waiting to buy that fur coat or designer dress without which life would not be worth living. The rest of us can just sit looking bemused from the warmth of our homes. For most of the year though our ability to wait is sorely tested and, as life seems to move ever more quickly, so is our impatience at every delay. The supermarket has now become a battleground with impatient shoppers clogging the aisles and tempers fraying at the checkout tills. Our humanity is gradually being ground down because the ability to wait is intimately linked with the ability to listen and to see those necessary prerequisites for entry into the life of love and knowledge. The chimera of speed, the easy check-in and the easy check-out speak to the worst side of our character, the will to dominate and come first. When such speed proves impossible, the only response is anger and violence. When nothing is planned to move fast then there is little need to ask the passengers or customers not to attack the staff.

We cannot wait, so we are unable to hear someone else speak, and we cannot see because the next image is already crowding upon us. The need to stay awake, and literally to wait, is a constant refrain throughout Jesus' teaching. A spiritual vigilance is necessary in order to be ready to receive the Lord both today and on that final day. This waiting is not a form of indolence, but of a careful attentiveness to the running of the master's home. This home is the Church, not simply in the abstract, nor just the Parish Church to which we belong, but also our own homes. It is here, in the home, 'where two or three are gathered together', that Christ is in our midst. This presence should not, however, be taken for granted, and the season of Advent is a time once again to make our homes true places of Christian life.

The paradox at the heart of Christmas reminds us how difficult the task is to make our homes places of charity, for just when Christians are gathered together in their homes, the event being celebrated, the birth of Jesus Christ, is tied in with the practical and spiritual homelessness of God in this world. There was no room in the inn at Bethlehem and, as St John writes in his Prologue, 'He came to his own home and his own people did not accept Him'. (Jn 1:11). This homelessness has a deeper cause. It is not simply a lack of space but of a hardness of heart, and it exists everywhere except where the light has shone, and where the life of service is not accepted.

This season of advent is the time to wait, to rediscover the contentment of daily service to those to whom we minister in our family homes, shared flats and amongst our dispersed family and friends if we live alone. This will purify our homes and hearts for the coming of Christ, and make us see Him more clearly stepping forward from the background sights and sounds of our culture. In this way the words of John's prologue will be fulfilled; 'and to all who did accept him He gave power to become children of God' (Jn 1:12).

The Catechism of the Catholic Church: The Most Holy Trinity- CCC 232-267

The Trinity is the central mystery of the Catholic faith, and everything the Church believes revolves around this understanding of God. The progressive unveiling of the Trinity was only completed with the coming of Jesus Christ and the sending of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. This doctrine cannot be understood through unaided human reason alone but, once believed through faith, the Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit is grasped as the true understanding of God.

The use of the term 'Father' to express an understanding of God is common to much of humanity. The Israelites called God 'Father' because he was both Creator and protector of his chosen people. During His lifetime Jesus used the expression Father, but showed its deeper meaning in virtue of being His only Son. He is Son to the Father, showing that within God there is a relationship. Jesus also announces the sending of the Paraclete which descends at Pentecost, and who is sent by both the Father and the Son, Jesus Christ, who has ascended back to the Father. The Holy Spirit could not be sent in this way until after the ascension, though the Holy Spirit hovered over the waters at the beginning of time and spoke through the prophets of the Old Testament. The difference between the Catholic and the Orthodox Church over the addition of 'filioque' (and the Son) to the Creed is seen now to be more about language and mode of implementation, rather than of fundamental doctrinal differences. Both maintain that the Holy Spirit is that of God.

The Early Church's teaching on the Trinity used the intellectual language of the day but changed its meaning to suit her use. The three key terms are 'substance' to emphasise the oneness of God, 'person' to explain their distinction and 'relation' to emphasise that their distinctions are relative and not absolute. The thrust of Church teaching is both to maintain the oneness of God, and the relations within God revealed by Jesus Christ. God acts in the worlds as one, but each divine person performs the common task according to His unique personal property. The Christian can speak both of the action of God and of each person of the Trinity.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church: God the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth CCC 268-301

The one adjective used to describe God in the Creed is 'Almighty'. God has the power to create out of nothing. The power of God is not an irrational force but is rather supremely rational and exhibits the quality of His just will and wise intellect. God is therefore unable to do anything contrary to His nature and, though His actions in the Bible might seem contradictory to our weakened minds and hardened hearts, they are in themselves part of His order and obey His laws.

The belief in the power of God can seem obtuse when God demonstrates His apparent powerlessness in front of evil. This issue of evil will be considered in the next section but, for the believer, the only way to grapple with the problem of evil is through the example of Jesus' voluntary self-sacrifice and His resurrection from the dead. God can create out of nothing so He can bring the dead back to life, create a pure heart, and give the light of faith in the dark. The potential to reverse the situation is where God's power really lies. The Virgin Mary is the greatest exponent of such faith when she says, 'Nothing is impossible to God'.

The enigma of the creation has occupied the minds of countless generations. The mystery of the universe is revealed through the search for our origins and destiny, but does not of itself admit to scientific discovery alone. Both the agnostic and the scientist can discover the how, but only the believer can answer the question 'why' because the beginning is only understood through the revelation of the end. The message of Christian salvation requires something to be saved and so implies the need for creation, but creation finds its full meaning in the Redemption.

The history of the composition of the Old Testament bears this out. The Book of Exodus is the first to be written, explaining the covenant and salvation wrought by God. Later the Book of Genesis was composed which explained implicitly the need for such a future salvation to restore the original meaning of the creation. The accent is on life. God communicates life, and the believer is the one who has consciously embraced this life, and so shares, as a secondary cause, the task of assisting in the completion of creation. (To be continued)

The Catechism of the Catholic Church: Providence and Evil - CCC 302-314

The Church teaches that creation is good and has its own perfection, but it did not begin complete. Creation is still in a state of becoming, and has yet to reach its conclusion. God holds creation in existence as its ultimate origin, even those not yet created, and his guiding force through history is described as providence. The Bible emphasises God's Lordship over history with the aim of installing trust in the believer when the contrary seems so obvious, such as the flourishing of evil men. The Psalms are full of injunctions to trust in God, and later Jesus tells His followers not to be anxious for the same reason.

Every person then is able through their actions is able to participate in the unfolding of God's plan. These actions are often done unconsciously by those with no faith, the so-called 'men and women of goodwill'. Christians do this consciously through their good actions and commitments, but also through their prayers and suffering. A universe that is still in a process of completion, with the becoming and disappearing of individual creatures will always involve 'physical evil'. This is not the first purpose of creation, which is life with God, but one of the consequences of giving birth to a renewed creation.

The reality of suffering and evil makes for great difficulty in recognising the workings of divine providence, and the question is always raised as to whether God could have created a better universe. The answer to this question is not found by giving a quick reply, rather it is revealed in the Cross and Resurrection, which unites both physical and moral evil in Christ, but through which the doors to the new creation are opened. The Resurrection and Final Judgement open out the full meaning of the Creation, and thus place all human suffering in a wider context without either denigrating the reality of pain, or the need to alleviate pain where necessary. The question of moral evil is answered somewhat differently. God mysteriously permits evil acts to happen because He values the free choice to follow Him more highly than the ability to commit evil. (To be continued next week).