The Church As Field Hospital

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

Some time ago, Pope Francis referred to the Church’s vocation as a field hospital. This phrase didn’t really strike me as anything more than a clever metaphor until I started viewing stories set in the battlefields of our World Wars. Then I saw what life was actually like in a field hospital.

Mansions of the wealthy were turned into wards filled with moaning, bleeding soldiers. The wounded arrived in an endless stream, with injuries from simple scrapes to life-threatening, body-altering wounds.

How can “the Church” be likened to such a place?

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

Unlike previous popes and traditional bishops, Pope Francis chose not to live in a princely residence. No red shoes for him either.

As long as “the Church” is viewed as a kind of religious country club where sinners need not apply, Francis’ metaphor makes no sense whatsoever. Is “the Church” a collection of buildings? Is “the Church” staffed by bishops, priests, deacons, religious and laity, who are to act as spiritual doctors and nurses? Are there enough of them to care for long lines of the spiritually wounded or dying? Who are the “wounded”? Are some in a privileged class, and therefore treated better than others? What are their wounds? Which ones might be life-threatening? Which of the wounded do we have the right to turn away?

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

A real field hospital exists in the midst of WAR. There can be no casual approach toward the wounded in a field hospital. The field hospital staff puts itself in the same danger as the military personnel. Their burden is equal to what their patients experience. Staffing is insufficient. Virtually every situation can be described as an emergency. There is no time to waste, no time for a leisurely approach.

As an un-ordained woman, am I needed and assigned to work in this field hospital, or am I not qualified? Which instruction manual do I use, the Catechism or the Gospel?

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

Christ’s merciful attitude toward sinners was exemplified at the dinner where a woman of ill repute wept copiously and penitently at the feet of Jesus. “If this man were a prophet,” thought the Pharisee, “wouldn’t he know what kind of woman is touching him?”

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

Healing is at the core of Jesus’ ministry. For whom does the church exist? The saved, or those in need of saving? For whom did Christ shed his blood? Why do some bishops deny the Holy Sacrament to those most in need of the Lord’s intimate help? Do we refuse blood transfusions for those who are bleeding to death? Didn’t Jesus shed his blood for all sinners? Aren’t we included in that group?British surgeons and nurses prepare one of four casualties injured by gunshot wounds in Helmund Province in Afghanistan

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

This summer’s revelation of crimes committed under cover of clerical protection has now reached unspeakable depths. We’ve now come to the point where we are reduced to shame and utter disappointment as we learn of hateful evils against the innocent, hidden by cowardice and hypocrisy.

Over and over again we hear the question: how can I belong to such a church?

I suggest that the answer is simpler than we might think. Coincidentally, the answer is in Paul’s letter for today’s Mass (1 Corinthians 12). Paul refers to the diversity of gifts of those who contribute them to form the Body of Christ. You are Christ’s body, he says.

There is a beautiful unity and serenity in the picture Paul paints for us. This is the true Church where each part, no matter how insignificant, no matter how far out of the mainstream, is part of the saving Body of Christ: blood of his Blood; heart of his Heart. It is built by small deeds of love and attention we show our neighbors.

For sure, there are unending opportunities for true Christians to volunteer for service in the spiritual field hospital we call life. We are all among the wounded. We all need words of encouragement and the healing compassion of a patient listener. We all need spiritual pain-killers to soothe the hurt of anger, violence, crime and negativity that are both within and outside of us.

It is not the healthy who need a physician.

 

First Steps

This has been a year of mixed blessings for Mt. Saviour Monastery. We lost two brothers, Steven and Justin. Yet I do question words like “lost.” That word in particular expresses the opposite of a monk’s goal, which is to be found by Christ and to remain where He is.

I guess the Holy Spirit wanted to balance things for us, so I was delighted to learn that we have not one but TWO new postulants. Seeing one of them at Mass recently, I put myself in his sandals (so to speak), wondering what thoughts might be going through his mind as he takes the first steps on his journey to intimacy with Christ.

I remember how I had first felt on my return to the Church, how my new beginning revived the zeal of my youth and my desire to share my renewed joy in the Faith. Certainly Christ, like a new postulant, must also have had feelings of happy anticipation.

Jesus was not a green lad when he started his ministry, but a mature man of 30. When he plunged into the Jordan, it was as one with a crowd of converts. Converts because they were responding to John’s urgent call to change their way of life. baptism-of-jesusJesus stepped into a river muddied by the many sins that had been washed from the throng of repentant men and women. I think he must have been stunned to discover that individuals like him also experienced this strong call to holiness. He must have said to himself: I want to be a part of this transformation! Maybe even more, since what I’m hearing within me, what I’m given to understand is how truly close God is to each of us on this earth, and that He longs to accompany us on this difficult journey!

I think with wonder about those long days and nights he spent in the desert, praying and pondering what it means to be a child of God, about what is meant by the teachings of Scripture, the writings and traditions of his people. Fully human, Jesus must have been in the position of questioning what God wanted of him. Whatever it was, he desired it with all his being, both human and divine.

The temptations
If he were to leave his family, his friends, and his livelihood, what would be left? He might be like some people who considered preaching as a career that could assure him of a comfortable living. Why, given his talent with words and speaking, he would never go hungry again, accepting invitations to dine at the homes of the wealthy. As the darling of the Creator, he would be assured of protection and safety all his life. He would be admired and praised by all. His fame would spread far and wide. He might even be made King! Knowing the ill-treatment meted out to the prophets, he might have thought he’d be the exception. His teachings would be so new, so transformative, that they would be universally accepted.

Isn’t this how we’ve felt when we started out in our careers, full of enthusiasm and self-confidence?

Our new postulants at Mt. Saviour must be close to half my age but hopefully with twice the wisdom. The teachings of Christ bring us feelings alternating between child-like joy and the certain dread of hardships, followed by their actuality. Since this was the road Jesus decided to take, we can expect the same as we aspire to holiness.

First steps are so crowded with hope and fear, along with the need for support, strength, and wisdom. Fortunately, our heavenly parent knows that beginners need much encouragement, so he fills them with a grateful wonder at having been called. This confidence is too soon followed by a sense of emptiness and doubt.

Jesus’ family thought he was out of his mind and tried to drag him back home. The fickle crowds wanted to make him king when he performed miracles, but scoffed at his impossible teachings: Be happy when you’re poor, when you mourn, if you’re meek. This is not what most of us want to hear. The most difficult teaching had to do with giving us his body and blood to eat and drink. “Will you also go away?” he asks his disciples. Peter gives the perfect answer: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

Early as it was in Peter’s discipleship, he knew that there was spiritual health and salvation only in what Christ taught and modeled: total love for God and neighbor; being the servant to others, not the Master; seeking first the Kingdom of God in sincerity of heart; letting go of all that keeps us from that goal.

And so, as we welcome our new brothers to the Monastery, let us pray that the faithful and loving spirit of Christ will enter them and remain with them – and us – always. Let us provide an ongoing example to each other as true followers of the Gospel.

Food in the Desert

It started in a desert.

After weeks of fasting, stripping down to spiritual and physical emptiness, Jesus is tempted to use his divinity to serve his hunger. (Matthew 4)

“If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.”
(As if he would use his power for such a cheap trick!)

“He replied: ‘It is written that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.’”

To listen ardently for every word God speaks to us: this is what we hunger for but are mostly unaware and untaught to realize. It takes time, effort and grace to realize that only God can satisfy our needs. The Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want!

The ancient Jews, rescued from slavery in Egypt, were led grumbling and ungratefully into a harsh desert. They even preferred the false comfort of three squares a day to what Moses offered. Their Egyptian rulers were tyrants, but at least they had been fed. Now, it seemed, they would surely not survive this trek to an uncertain Promised Land.

But God showed his mercy by impossibly sending meat and bread to these former slaves. And even more miraculously, he sent them water from a rock.

Jesus used the power of these images some time later in his ministry, as he taught about the Kingdom. By this time, every word from his mouth could have filled them with the richest banquet. All they had to do was open their mouths to receive it. If only they – or we – could be like squawking nestlings, screaming to be fed this food!

Jesus took pity on the crowds who were lost, like sheep without a shepherd. He intimately knew their bodily and spiritual hunger, and showed them his desire to feed them, even more wonderfully than their ancestors had been.

He tells us it is not Moses, teacher of the Law, who can give us this perfect food. No, it is himself, the very Word of God, who gives us, through Love, his own self, his own sacrifice. He gives us not just the temporary life that the Law gives, but eternal life through the perfect Love he teaches and exemplifies.

All we need to do is to desire and accept this food, this Word. God does all the rest.

clouds dawn desert landscape

 

What Is the New Evangelization?

The term “New Evangelization” is heard in many Catholics circles today, but what exactly does it mean?

An easy search on the internet will turn up many insights in answer to this question. Focus, a site sponsored by Catholic University (see footnote for link *) gives a very clear answer which I’ve modified slightly in the following paragraphs.

“It is believed that Saint John Paul II first used the term in 1983 in an address to Latin American Bishops. He would later bring this term to the attention of the entire Church.
Perhaps the most clear definition of the New Evangelization is in his encyclical, Redemptoris Missio, where John Paul II describes three different situations for teaching the Gospel (evangelization), as described below:

“Mission ad gentes: Latin for “to the nations.” This is a situation where Christ and his Gospel are not known. It is what we commonly think of as the work of our foreign missions where Christianity may be first introduced.

“Christian communities: these are the communities where the Church carries out her activity and pastoral care – i.e., the parish church you and I attend every Sunday. This involves teaching the Gospel to people who are currently and faithfully connected with a Christian church (even if often superficially).

“Candidates for the New Evangelization: St. John Paul II refers to situations where entire groups of the baptized have lost a living sense of the faith, or even those who no longer consider themselves members of the Church, living far removed from Christ and his Gospel. These are people we commonly refer to as having ‘fallen away’ or ‘lapsed.’

“The New Evangelization addresses the spiritual needs of this last group in particular.”

The Focus website further quotes Pope St. John Paul II:

“I sense that the moment has come to commit all of the Church’s energies to a new evangelization [to lapsed Catholics] and to the mission ad gentes [to foreign missions]. No believer in Christ, no institution of the Church can avoid this supreme duty: to proclaim Christ to all peoples” (John Paul II, Redemptoris Missio).

“To this end, it is more necessary than ever for all the faithful to move from a faith of habit, sustained perhaps by social context alone, to a faith which is aware and personally lived. The renewal of [one’s own] faith will always be the best way to lead others to the Truth that is Christ.” [My emphasis.] (John Paul II, Ecclesia in America).

A faith of habit; a faith that has not grown much beyond one’s last formal instruction, probably since grade school. These are the faithful indeed, insofar as going to church every Sunday; never missing major feasts such as Ash Wednesday, Easter, or Christmas, but who possibly have not yet heard their personal call to discipleship and dedication to the revolutionary teachings of the Gospel.

Nevertheless, according to John Paul, it falls to this group (you and me) to pay the needed attention to the third group. Since everyone knows someone who was once baptized but who no longer practices the faith, Saint John Paul II wanted these, the “faithful,” to clearly recognize this problem and then try to solve it.

John Paul realized that in order to carry out such a special mission, the “faithful” need to be sufficiently knowledgeable and inspired to do so. They need to grow in their faith, in the Gospel teachings, in order to channel the Holy Spirit in drawing back to the Church those who have fallen away.

Put another way, it means that Catholics today need to go beyond what they’ve been comfortable with for many generations. We need to respond to the call to holiness as taught by Vatican II. We need to listen to the counsel of theologian Karl Rahner who boldly stated that the Christian of today must be a “mystic.” That is, our main and ever-present aim in life is to live out the Gospel of love as taught and exemplified by Jesus Christ. The faithful Christian needs to live a life of constant and ever deepening prayer. We Christians today must wake up from spiritual complacency, and become ever more aware of how, through the Holy Spirit, we can affect the world around us.

One problem remains. How many baptized Catholics have left the Church because of its perceived attitude toward women, minorities, gays and often, frankly, the laity in general? How do we explain refusing Communion to people who attend another church, when our Lord prayed and gave his life for unity? We, the faithful, are neither equipped nor authorized to explain these difficult questions.

But we’re not expected, not told, to explain or defend these issues. No. Our task is even more important as well as more difficult.

Our task is to recognize that we are channels for the Holy Spirit, called to help the Spirit accomplish this heroic task. Our channels – our hearts and souls – must be totally clear, unclogged, and open to others. In the words of our Savior:

So let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. (Matthew 5:16)

Christ is visible to others only insofar as we allow him to be seen in us.

* https://focusoncampus.org/content/what-is-the-new-evangelization-the-answer-might-surprise-you

On the Road!

A few weeks ago, Brother John received a request from a pastor in the Canandaigua area. Like so many of our parishes, two in this part of the Rochester Diocese had recently merged into a new one named St. Benedict’s. Pastor Michael Costik’s request was: Would we be willing to help St. Benedict’s familiarize parishioners with their new patron and with the Monastery “down the road”?

Brother Gabriel asked me if I’d like to respond to Father Michael on behalf of the Monastery. “Of course!” was my immediate reaction. Who wouldn’t want to “sell” the Monastery?

And so I introduced myself via email and phone to Deacon Claude Lester. Claude had come to Mt. Saviour for his discernment retreat prior to ordination, so he was especially enthusiastic about introducing parishioners to our place of prayer.

The target event was a celebration of Benedict’s feast day, nicknamed “Seven-Elevenish” since it was scheduled for the Sunday closest to the feast — this year, on July 8. They planned a BBQ lunch at the community center where there would also be displays of the parish’s ministries.Monastery items

Deacon Claude wanted a special table for Mt. Saviour to feature information on the monastery. The Brothers and I agreed on what to take up: pictures of the monastery chapel and grounds, pamphlets describing accommodations and directions, information on becoming an Oblate, and objects available at the gift shop. I also selected a number of books on Benedict and monasticism available in the shop.

Sunday July 8 was a splendid day for the ride up through the hills to Bloomfield Monastery Tablewhere their community center is located (formerly St. Bridget’s). Straight ahead as I entered the door, the Monastery table was the major focus. Behind the Monastery table was a huge quilt, each square made by a family telling something about that family.

Deacon Claude had already done a good deal of work to publicize St. Benedict. Here he is at one of the displays.
Deacon Claude Lester

I was introduced to the parishioners who headed up various ministries. One was involved in providing shelter for homeless families. Another was a food pantry, open three day a week, stocked with food donated by a number of local people and businesses. I liked the outreach aspect of this ministry. Another nine-year project continually raised funds to help missions in Kenya. I was impressed that these were hands-on ministries that focused on helping the truly needy. I had to interrupt my ministry pilgrimage when I woke up to the fact that I had my own project to publicize!

It didn’t take long to realize that just standing by our table, waiting for the world to come to me, wasn’t going to accomplish much, so I grabbed a handful of pamphlets and prayer cards. Going from table to table, distributing my goodies proved to be much more effective – and fun. I was able to answer questions including, “What’s an Oblate?”  Occasionally I’d meet someone who (a bit embarrassed to admit it) was not a Catholic. This provided an opportunity to share thoughts on ecumenism and our need to rely on one another.

The warmth and enthusiasm of these parishioners was very exciting to me. They certainly expressed the hospitality of our patron saint. What is more, as I was on my way out, Father Michael assured me that they’d be planning a group trip to visit Mt. Saviour. We know they’ll love it.Mt. Saviour