The Trinity explains both the reality of our faith and the depths of our human nature

Posted on May 30th 2010 in Weekly messages

Two of the key maxims taken up by the mediaeval theologian, St Thomas Aquinas, from classical philosophy have always perplexed me. The first is Aristotle’s statement ‘that all people desire to know’, and the second that ‘everyone acts for the good’. Both sound counter-intuitive and the experience of life would say otherwise. Much of life is spent not wanting to know, of putting off difficult questions, or of assuming what is blatantly untrue to help us through life’s difficulties. Again what one chooses to do as good is often far off the mark with respect to the good established by God. The weight of evidence points in the other direction, that most people are either not interested in knowing the truth, or act for selfish reasons alone.

However, what should prevent every Catholic from taking this cynical road are the experiences of the liberating power of the truth, and the internal resonances of divine peace when a truly good act has been undertaken. These experiences might not be very common, but when they occur, they point to the deeper human nature of each person, what might be called our religious selves. They point to our real nature, and become the yardstick whereby we may measure the everyday. The method of measurement makes the believer look upward rather than levelling God’s creation downwards.

The same may be said about the Trinity, the Solemnity of which the Church celebrates this Sunday. The doctrine of the Trinity may be explained in human language stretched to the limits of comprehensibility but, without intuitions of the relationship between Jesus and the Father or the experience of the Holy Spirit, all human words will be doomed to failure. The existence of God as Trinity is the backdrop to our Christian religious experiences. The religious experience of Catholics does not prove the Trinity. It is the relationship between God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit that makes our own religious experiences possible. The relationship between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit explain the encounter that the believer has of Jesus as the bringer of God’s mercy, and with the Holy Spirit in the sacramental moments of their lives, the reception of Holy Communion, marriage in Church, intense charitable actions and moments of quiet prayer. The reality of the Trinity embraces every aspect of our lives but this reality only breaks through every so often. When it does break through, sometimes quite unexpectedly, there can be an overwhelming sense of contentment and belonging, which can be hard to describe in words but which reassures us that the daily struggle of life has a greater purpose. This experience charts a course between the superficiality of thinking everything can only get better, and the counsel of despair that everything is getting worse.

The existence of the Trinity, and the relationships between the Father and the Son, the eternal consequence of God’s thinking, and the relationship between the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the consequence of God’s outpouring of love, together establish the framework for all human life. The human desire to know and to do good, requires a personal commitment. The Trinity animates this peculiarly human aspect of our nature, our free will, and along with this, the ability to know and to love, to remember and to imagine. The fact that the Son of God took human flesh and carried the Holy Spirit has inserted God into human history, and humanity into the life of God. God cannot be belittled by human evil, malice or limitation, but humanity can grasp its potential greatness through the experience of God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

St John’s Gospel: The Cleansing of the Temple (2:12-25)

Posted on May 23rd 2010 in St. John's Gospel

The incident of the Cleansing of the Temple shows the divergence between the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) and that of St John. The Synoptic Gospels record only one visit to Jerusalem and this visit would bring His life to a violent end on the Cross. St John, on the other hand, mentions three visits to Jerusalem and, each of these occurring at the time of the Passover, helps establish the traditional conviction that Jesus’ public life took place over three years. St John places the Cleansing of the Temple at the beginning of His Gospel as it marks, along with the miracle at Cana, the beginning of the new order since both incidents show Jesus replacing the tradition and worship of the Jews with Himself.

The arguments given by Jesus for His actions explicitly relate the Temple to His body, something that would be incomprehensible to the apostles till the Resurrection. The dwelling place of God will no longer be a building but a person, and this continues in the Church which is described as the Body of Christ. The profanation of the Temple with an excess of trading activities, is the immediate excuse for the actions of Jesus, which in themselves would fit the traditional pattern of the Old Testament prophets. These actions would have their consequence, and the authorities of the time would not look kindly on such activities, so the disciples ‘remember the Scriptures, ‘Zeal for your house will devour me’. This quote comes from Zechariah, a prophet killed within the Temple, a fact Jesus mentions in the other Gospels.

Yet with all Jesus’ actions and words a deeper meaning becomes apparent to the believer. The rebuilding of the Temple, a public work that had occupied forty-six years already starting under Herod the Great, is now being replaced with another rebuilding that of the Resurrection. This final rebuilding will overcome the limitations of time and space, and the consequences of sin and death, so through His Resurrection the risen Jesus will become the place of prayer, and the gift He will give of the Holy Spirit will incorporate all believers into the Body of Christ. This prequel, before the main body of the Gospel, gives the overview to the next eleven chapters, prior to Jesus’ final return to the Father and the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The descent of the Holy at Pentecost restores the unity of peoples

Posted on May 23rd 2010 in Weekly messages

The Feast of Pentecost marks the end of Eastertide, and though Easter may well feel a long time ago, the outcome and impact of that Feast is fully felt today. Jesus promised the Holy Spirit as another Counsellor to the Apostles, one that would remain with them forever, and cement the bond between believer and His death and Resurrection.

The descent of the Holy Spirit was both experienced as the sound of wind, impelling the Apostles outwards from the confines of the Upper Room, and as tongues of fire, that would make their hearts radiate with the love that Christ possessed. This love both warmed and burnt. The first is the warmth of reassurance. This fire had impelled Jesus towards the Cross, and the supreme act of sacrifice. This same fire impels the Christian towards witness and martyrdom, not through the violence to others, but through personal sacrifice that might well lead to death. The Feast of Pentecost is the antithesis of the confusion of languages instigated by the Fall of the Tower of Babel. God shattered the common language of men after their arrogant attempt to build a tower to reach God. This confusion of tongues multiplied the mutual incomprehension of humanity, and brought war and strife not just between individuals but nations as well. Now the multitude of languages become the one common tongue of the Gospel, the account of the remarkable gifts of God, and the instigation of a way of life founded on the interior law of charity, the grace of the Holy Spirit. Mutual incomprehensibility leading to violence has been replaced by a common understanding suffused with divine love.

The Apostles began with recounting the marvellous act of God which had reversed the evil committed earlier in the Crucifixion, and the events leading up to it. This is the good news, and it can never be restated often enough. The simplicity of the Gospel message is now problematic in the light of the complexity of human affairs. The widespread use of jargon in every aspect of governmental and professional, the plethora of acronyms in use by public bodies are all the sad consequences of the Fall of the Tower of Babel. Necessary explanation and organisation have changed into something else, a private unknown language impenetrable to the outsider.

The gift of the Spirit is something deeply personal because it enters into our souls marking us with a touch of God. This same Spirit is given to all believers. So there is no divide between this personal gift of the Spirit and the gift of the Spirit to the Church as a whole. This logic demonstrates the impossibility of being a solitary believer, unattached to any Church. There are probably individuals or liturgical practices that one might find difficult and uncongenial in our own parish churches.  It would be surprising if it were different. Every parishioner, here and elsewhere, is in need of redemption. Every institution needs an internal reformation. I am sure these differences, like in any family, are minor irritants that are far outweighed by the graces received by coming together in our local Church. We all, whether we consciously accept it or not, draw strength from each other’s faith though our common participation in Jesus’ perfect act of worship.

The feast of Pentecost is the moment to reflect on the nature of the Church and her mission to preach the gospel.  The first apostles, filled by the fire of the Holy Spirit began this public work. Their mission has a long antecedence, which ultimately goes back to just after the Fall of Adam and Eve. God has continually called His people back to Him, now He does so through the Church. The Holy Spirit at Pentecost metaphorically ‘booted’ the Apostles through the door and into the world. He does the same to us, as well inspiring us with the full richness of Jesus’ teaching, and offer of mercy.