Villanelle for Easter Eve

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The athlete and missionary, Eric Liddell

For years, I sought to walk a godly pace,
Not sensing all things rushing into God.
But now I run, I run as in a race. 

There was a stream, but one I could not trace
While I was wading dust as thick as blood
And shouting that I walked a godly pace. 

There was a sun, but one I did not face,
Nor see the hills pursue it in a crowd.
I did not hear it panting in its race. 

But everyone who turns to seek His grace
Becomes a restless horse the faint breeze prods
And instigates beyond a godly pace. 

I could not be left lonely by the chase
Toward Him. The ground was moving in a flood,
And all things sang and hurtled in the race. 

And through that storm I saw how wide a space
I had to cross. I heard each slow step's thud.
For years, I sought to walk a godly pace,
But now I run, I run as in a race.

Villanelle of the Hidden Life by Sarah Ruden

Cupich Sends Out Black Jesus Christmas Card

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No. Not that Black Jesus. 

By the way, Jesus wasn't black.

He wasn't Norwegian or Chinese either.

Now, there's nothing wrong (obviously) with being black, Norwegian or Chinese. It's just that Jesus wasn't any of those.

So why portray Jesus as black?

There are many reasons:

One of them is racism, pure and simple. Your view of black people is so cynical and condescending that you believe they will only embrace Christianity if they think Jesus was racially "one of them". Let's give the childish little darkies what they need.

A second is racialist--you think being black is a metaphor for various things--victimization, heroism--so Jesus is best portrayed as being black even if He wasn't. (He really was in the deeper sense.)

A third is simply in-your-face Nazified political correctness. We're the good Catholics (liberals). You're the bad Catholics (everyone else). So we're going to rub your face in it with a black Jesus. If you have a problem with that, you're racist.

The 2015 Archdiocese of Chicago Christmas card is from a mural at the Holy Angels Church on the South Side of Chicago. Holy Angels has long been a center of black political activism, perhaps becoming most prominent under the leadership of Rev. George Clements. In the early 1990's Clements commissioned Fr. Englebert Mveng, a well-known Jesuit priest from Cameroon, to paint the mural, which contains various scenes from the Old and New Testaments featuring African-looking characters.

Here is how Holy Angels explains one of the panels:

3. Acts of the Apostles: (Ch.6 ) (Liberators) Peter was banished to prison by King Herod and the Lord sent an angel in the middle of the night to who told him to get up and as he did his shackles broke and he walked past the sleeping guards. The artist thought that in light of Nelson Mandela's recent release from Prison, he would make the face on Peter closely resemble Mandela's (which it does).

Mveng was one of the most prominent exponents of the African branch of Liberation Theology. He was murdered (some say by the government or with its knowledge or collaboration) in 1995.

To get a sense of where Rev. Clements was coming from, here's an interesting bit of history as described in an approving 2014 article from Milwaukee Catholic Herald (Clements is no longer head pastor at Holy Angels but he is still alive):

Then (Rev. Clements) said he did something that upset many people. He took down a statue of St. Anthony and replaced it with one of (Martin Luther) King. Soon after, he received a call from the then-archbishop of Chicago, Cardinal John Cody. 

“He said, ‘Are you out of your mind? You better take that statue down right now. You’re not going to make some Protestant minister a saint,’” Fr. Clements said. 

He added that he argued with Cardinal Cody that King embodied many traits of other Catholic saints. 

“I said, ‘I’m not about to take it down. But I want you to know, if you want it down, you send somebody down here to take it down. And when they come out here, I can’t vouch for their safety when they get into the ‘hood,’” Fr. Clements said.

Ah, Catholic non-violent witness. Is Bishop Barron aware of this?

From the Holy Angels website: Rev. Clements in front of fist

As should be plain from some of my own text above, I think grafting black political activism onto Catholic worship is toxic. It's religiously misleading and distracting--Jesus didn't die to save black people from oppression, he died to save black people (and white people) from sin. And it's of course another example of the racist condescension with which many whites (and some blacks) view blacks in America. Everything must be about race. Everything must be about victimization. Everything must be about the struggle.

And you can't get out of it for even one hour a week. Even at Mass.

Sorry blacks.

And sorry all Catholics. For Archbishop Cupich, in so far as he is sincere about anything, Catholicism is merely a political program, given a teeny bit more legitimacy (so he thinks) by the fact that you can thump your bible or flash your pallium at the same time. 

It's not that it's merely false (though of course that's the most important thing), it's that it's so petty and small. It's boring.

And thus it's unattractive. No one is going to become a faithful Catholic because of that version of Catholicism. It doesn't give you anything more than, well, just doing the politics. And you have to give up your Sunday mornings.

Then again, if there's good gospel music . . .

Happy Feast of the Holy Family! Pope Claims Jesus Had to Beg Forgiveness From His Parents

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Yes, this accurately describes the reality. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Francis.

Jesus asked God the Father to forgive others. He never asked anyone to forgive Him.

Well, okay, he asked Mary Magdalen to forgive Him, but that was only a movie.

To be serious, there is a simple and obvious reason why Jesus never asked anyone to forgive Him: He never committed a sin.

That's because, while fully man, he was also fully God, and God doesn't commit sins, even, you know, small ones.

Incredibly, the Pope (the Pope!) doesn't seem to understand or believe this. In his homily for the feast of the Holy Family he claimed (emphasis in red):

At the end of that pilgrimage, Jesus returned to Nazareth and was obedient to his parents (cf. Lk 2:51). This image also contains a beautiful teaching about our families. A pilgrimage does not end when we arrive at our destination, but when we return home and resume our everyday lives, putting into practice the spiritual fruits of our experience. We know what Jesus did on that occasion. Instead of returning home with his family, he stayed in Jerusalem, in the Temple, causing great distress to Mary and Joseph who were unable to find him. For this little “escapade”, Jesus probably had to beg forgiveness of his parents. The Gospel doesn’t say this, but I believe that we can presume it. Mary’s question, moreover, contains a certain reproach, revealing the concern and anguish which she and Joseph felt.

Now, of course, if we believe the Bible account, we know what really happened. Jesus didn't beg forgiveness when His parents finally found Him. Instead:

When they saw Him, they were astonished; and His mother said to Him, "Son, why have You treated us this way? Behold, Your father and I have been anxiously looking for You." And He said to them, "Why is it that you were looking for Me? Did you not know that I had to be in My Father's house?" But they did not understand the statement which He had made to them.…

In my view, that's one of the most memorable passages in the New Testament. Through a window of 2,000 years you can feel the concern, and then the astonishment, of Mary and Joseph. They were worried about their son, as any parents would be. Interestingly, though, while they get an answer they didn't expect--"I was in My Father's House"--an answer that in the mouth of any other child would have been interpreted as obnoxious at the least, they do not reproach Him or box his ears, etc. Rather, Luke records them as being merely puzzled. I think they were also awed. They knew their son was heaven sent, even if they did not yet know He was God.  

But back to the Pope. He makes statements that no knowledgable and faithful Christian would ever make. He either doesn't know his Christian teachings or he disagrees with them.

I do not think any more that he believes that Jesus was the Son of God.

Is the Pope Catholic? Well, he was baptized, obviously, and he was confirmed as a Catholic and then as a priest. So. in that sense, of course he's a Catholic. On the other hand, in terms of subscribing to Catholic teachings, the evidence suggests that the answer would be no.

*************************************************************

A word on sources. This homily is taken from the Official Vatican Network. But I was directed to it by Novus Ordo Watch. The funny/unfunny blog title picture is from their post. Novus Ordo Watch is a sedevacantist group. I am not a sedevacantist, and there's about as much chance of me ever becoming one as there is of me opening up a brothel in Tangiers or becoming a Sufi . . . or being elected President of the United States. If you have read many of my posts, you will also see that I disagree with the Novus guys on a great many matters.

But you know what? Aside from falsely (in my view) believing that the Pope is NOT the Pope, they've been more right and less wrong about Pope matters than the majority of Catholic bloggers. Give them some credit, unless you're one of those people who has an inordinate fear of what other people think.

Pray for them. And pray for all of us.

Villanelle on the Eve of a Marathon

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The secret of my success over the 400 metres is that I run the first 200 metres as hard as I can. Then, for the second 200 metres, with God’s help, I run harder.

This is a partial repost from Good Friday, 2015, in honor of those running the Chicago Marathon tomorrow and for all others who run a spiritual race with and for God. The picture and quotation is from the martyred Christian Olympian Eric Liddell.

Villanelle of the Hidden Life by Sarah Ruden*

For years, I sought to walk a godly pace,
Not sensing all things rushing into God.
But now I run, I run as in a race. 

There was a stream, but one I could not trace
While I was wading dust as thick as blood
And shouting that I walked a godly pace. 

There was a sun, but one I did not face,
Nor see the hills pursue it in a crowd.
I did not hear it panting in its race. 

But everyone who turns to seek His grace
Becomes a restless horse the faint breeze prods
And instigates beyond a godly pace. 

I could not be left lonely by the chase
Toward Him. The ground was moving in a flood,
And all things sang and hurtled in the race. 

And through that storm I saw how wide a space
I had to cross. I heard each slow step's thud.
For years, I sought to walk a godly pace,
But now I run, I run as in a race.

*As cited by Gates of Vienna, 2010.

When God Looked on God–in His Mother's Eye

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Once, God walked among us as a man. But he didn't arrive here in a heavenly chariot or suddenly appear in a blast of smoke. Rather, He chose to be born as all of us are. And so God the creator of the universe had a human mother, and for a period of time was a growing infant in her womb and then a helpless child, nurtured by her.

Though, of course we know this. I'm not sure many of us have really thought about it as much as it deserves to be thought about. I certainly haven't. We contemplate His death and resurrection as of course we should. But too often perhaps we think of His birth as a kind of eternal snapshot with Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the wise men gathered around an angelic looking creature wearing a halo.

But He wasn't an angel and there was no halo.

He was fully God, but He was also a fully human baby with a fully human mother, Mary.

G.K. Chesterton wrote often on this. He felt that it, as much as anything else, gave Christianity its character.

In his wonderful poem "A Little Litany", he imagines the baby Jesus climbing up from His mother's lap and seeing His reflexion in one of her eyes. I say "imagined", but surely it must have happened.

And I mean really happened. Slightly more than 2,000 years ago, a few thousand miles away from where I am now writing, in a place now called "Israel", God looked on God–in His mother's eye.

A Little Litany (1926)

When God turned back eternity and was young,
Ancient of Days, grown little for your mirth
(As under the low arch the land is bright)
Peered through you, gate of heaven—and saw the earth.

Or shutting out his shining skies awhile
Built you about him for a house of gold
To see in pictured walls his storied world
Return upon him as a tale is told.

Or found his mirror there; the only glass
That would not break with that unbearable light
Till in a corner of the high dark house
God looked on God, as ghosts meet in the night.

Star of his morning; that unfallen star
In that strange starry overturn of space
When earth and sky changed places for an hour
And heaven looked upwards in a human face.

Or young on your strong knees and lifted up
Wisdom cried out, whose voice is in the street,
And more than twilight of twiformed cherubim
Made of his throne indeed a mercy-seat.

Or risen from play at your pale raiment's hem
God, grown adventurous from all time's repose,
Or your tall body climbed the ivory tower
And kissed upon your mouth the mystic rose.

The Pope as Reactionary Lutheran

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"This is the scandal of the Cross!"

Earlier in his pontificate, the Pope gave a homily where he said this:

What is reconciliation? Taking one from this side, taking another one for that side and uniting them: no, that’s part of it but it's not it ... True reconciliation means that God in Christ took on our sins and He became the sinner for us. When we go to confession, for example, it isn’t that we say our sin and God forgives us. No, not that! We look for Jesus Christ and say: 'This is your sin, and I will sin again'. And Jesus likes that, because it was his mission: to become the sinner for us, to liberate us. 

Christ became sin for me! And my sins are there in his body, in his soul! This - it's crazy, but it's beautiful, it's true! This is the scandal of the Cross!

Now, unless you're a sycophantic Franboy, or are completely indifferent to the Christian message, you might find the above disturbing, or at least confusing. So let me set the record straight, especially for my non-Catholic friends about Catholic Confession. We don't say at Confession, "Jesus, this is your sin." Instead, we say, "forgive me for my sins." We don't say, "I will sin again." Instead, we say, "I promise to amend my life." And certainly, no Gospel source, Christian Father, Catholic theologian, saint or pope (up to now) has ever said, Christ likes it that I will probably sin again.

As Seinfeld might say about the Pope's views on Christ, sin and forgiveness--that's crazy talk.

It's also heretical, blasphemous, harmful and, well, false.

This particular bizarro claim never get the attention it deserved. I assume it was brushed over initially as a sort of an over-exuberant theological flub that the Pope didn't really mean. And recently his pontificate has become such a train-wreck with communist crucifixes and all the rest that few have the time or the desire to rake through the archives, so to speak.   

In fact, the Pope makes weird statements like this all the time now. And the most charitable interpretation is that he makes them, well, to be weird. He thinks the point of homilies is to shake up our preconceptions or to "make a mess" or whatever. And true enough, if you want to make a mess, there's nothing like giving a bizarro homily. It will make your audience think, after all.

Actually, though, in this particular case, the Christ sinned thing does have a theological pedigree. I didn't say it had a Catholic theological pedigree, but still. And I don't even claim that Pope Francis is aware of this pedigree. Frankly it wouldn't surprise me either way.

What is that pedigree? Well, actually it was Martin Luther:

All the prophets of old said that Christ should be the greatest transgressor, murderer, adulterer, thief, blasphemer that ever was or ever could be on earth. When He took the sins of the whole world upon Himself, Christ was no longer an innocent person. He was a sinner burdened with the sins of a Paul who was a blasphemer; burdened with the sins of a Peter who denied Christ; burdened with the sins of a David who committed adultery and murder, and gave the heathen occasion to laugh at the Lord. In short, Christ was charged with the sins of all men, that He should pay for them with His own blood. The curse struck Him. The Law found Him among sinners. He was not only in the company of sinners. He had gone so far as to invest Himself with the flesh and blood of sinners. So the Law judged and hanged Him for a sinner... 

I am told that it is preposterous and wicked to call the Son of God a cursed sinner. I answer: If you deny that He is a condemned sinner, you are forced to deny that Christ died. It is not less preposterous to say, the Son of God died, than to say, the Son of God was a sinner.

Despite the title, this is not an anti-Lutheran post. In my experience, modern-day Lutherans don't know or care much about the actual theology of Luther. Again, that's not a criticism. Just an observation. On the main Lutherans seem to be "straight ahead" Christians that are often more "orthodox"--theologically and liturgically--than many Catholics.

However, as might be apparent, I don't like Martin Luther very much. No informed and faithful Catholic should. Part of the reason I don't like him is because of the dangerous and false things he said about Christ--things which most contemporary Lutherans probably wouldn't agree with anyway.

But our Catholic Pope does.

And in fairness to Martin Luther, even he didn't say that Christ likes the fact that we sin or will sin again.

Leave it to Wayne Jackson, an anti-Catholic Protestant, to defend Christian orthodoxy against Luther (and the Pope):

The theory (that Christ became a sinner) is false for two reasons. 

First, if Christ was “guilty” of sin on the cross, then his punishment was just. And...if it was deserved, there can hardly be merit in it for others...This dogma strikes at the very heart of the Christian system and the atoning death of our Savior, and logically reflects outright heresy... 

In addition, the theory of imputed “sin” is nonsensical. Sin is an act committed by personal choice (1 Jn. 3:4). It is “behavior or activity” that does not conform to the divine standard...A person cannot be “sinful” by the act of another (Ezek. 18:20)... 

...All humans suffer the consequence of Adam’s sin (Rom. 5:12), though not the guilt (as alleged by Calvinism). And as a result of Christ’s atoning death, and our obedience to him (Rom. 6:17-18), we are “reckoned” as righteous before God (Rom. 4:5). In a manner of speaking, his perfect sacrifice was “credited to our account” ...“[T]hough Christ was free from sin" (Jackson is now quoting a 19th century Protestant theologian), "he underwent the punishment of death, which is the consequence of sin: he was accounted as a sinner”...though he was not.

There are a few things here that are not quite how a Catholic theologian would put it. But on the main it works.

Pope Francis as reactionary Lutheran. Pretty soon he'll be denying free will and helping to put down peasant revolts. You laugh at the last one? What do you think his protege and ally, the Archbishop of Havana is doing to dissidents in Cuba?

Why Didn't God Pay Her Restaurant Tab?

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Should she have cleared it with Him before ordering?

From News2 (NBC Affiliate, South Carolina):

MYRTLE BEACH, S.C. (WBTW) – A woman was arrested Sunday night after refusing to pay her dinner tab at a Myrtle Beach seafood restaurant because, as she explained to police, “Jesus” was going to cover the cost of her meal. 

Myrtle Beach Police were called to Bennetts Calabash just after 9 p.m. Sunday night when, according to the incident report, 51-year-old April Lee Yates was asked to leave by management, but refused to do so. The report states that Yates was in the restaurant for nearly four hours before she started to cause a disturbance with other patrons. Management asked Yates to pay her dinner tab and leave, but she refused to pay the $26 bill. 

When the officer asked Yates if she had any money to pay, Yates said she did not. The officer then asked Yates what she planned to do with the bill came, and Yates explained that “Jesus” was going to pay her tab. 

Yates was arrested for defrauding a restaurant and booked into the Myrtle Beach jail.

I hope I'm not being irreverent with the post title. But after all, God could have paid her tab (He's God), and not even in an obvious or dramatic way--perhaps by causing a "forgotten" $26 to be found in her pocket, for example, or in softening the heart of the manager on duty so that he would have prevailed on the police to give her a pass or whatever--but He didn't.

Don't laugh, but I actually think it's an interesting question to ask why, especially given the Pope's recent homily on the miracle of the loaves and fishes. And no this isn't (thank God) an anti-Francis post.

Don't answer if you don't believe in God, because then the answer's obvious and trivial. But if you do believe in God, then seriously,

Why didn't God pay her tab?

Ship of Fools Reviews the Last Supper

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2882: Upper room, Mount Zion, Kingdom of Judea and Samaria

Mystery Worshipper: Synagogue Shopper (official Ship of Fools reviewer).

The church: The upper room of an anonymous residence just outside the city walls of Jerusalem, Kingdom of Judea and Samaria.

Denomination: Jewish.

The building: An unremarkable building in near suburban Jerusalem. Not poor but not showy or upperclass either.

The church: As implied, it wasn't a church per se. The room itself was spacious, longer than one would think from looking at the outside of the building. It was sparsely decorated but well cleaned and kept. I particularly noticed the restored lighting fixtures.

The neighborhood: Basic mud and stone architecture. The area itself has a strong Essene presence. I find them annoying but not dangerous.

The cast: A Rabbi (I didn't get his name) and a small group of parishioners, all male.

The date & time: April 1, 33 (Passover), 9.00pm.

What was the name of the service?
The Pasch.

How full was the building?
I would estimate 10-20. The room was fairly large but only had seating for that many.

Did anyone welcome you personally?
No. I was there because I overheard men talking of a Passover meal, and having no other place to go, decided to attend. First I followed a man carrying a pitcher of water. Then, upon entering an unmarked building I gave a sort of password to the butler and was directed to an upstairs room. When I entered, I saw a table set for the Passover meal with all of the seats already taken. I was glared at by a number of the parishioners, as if it were a "private" service or something. But the Rabbi made a sign that it was permitted. I took a seat in the corner and tried to be unobtrusive. Throughout the service a few of the parishioners kept occasionally glaring. In other words, it was pretty unwelcoming.

Was your pew comfortable?
The chair in the corner was not very comfortable. No.

How would you describe the pre-service atmosphere?
Not very prayerful. People were talking amongst themselves and making sure they had the right silverware and so forth.

What were the exact opening words of the service?
"Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who creates the fruit of the vine."

What books did the congregation use during the service?

None, as far as I could tell.

What musical instruments were played?
None. The atmosphere was quiet and sombre. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but on reflection there seemed to be a significant lack of joy in the place.

Did anything distract you?

Well, I was quite hungry at the time so I was distracted by the sight of the food laid out for the regular parishioners. And then of course I was distracted by observing them eating it. But due to the hostile glares, I didn't feel comfortable going up to the table. 

Was the worship stiff-upper-lip, happy clappy, or what?
I guess I'd say, "or what." It was neither stiff not happy clappy. On the one hand the atmosphere was somewhat informal and everyone including the Rabbi seemed to know each other. On the other hand, everyone except the Rabbi seemed a bit stressed out and depressed.

Exactly how long was the sermon?
15 minutes.

On a scale of 1-10, how good was the preacher?
5 – That's a tough one. Much of the Rabbi's sermon was quite moving, but there were some elements to the service that were very bizarre. For example, at one point, the Rabbi got up from his position, picked up a rag and bowl and actually started washing his parishioners' feet! There appeared to be some argument about this from one of the parishioners, but then everyone got up and began doing it, madly washing feet and then in turn having them washed. I had never seen anything like it at my regular synagogue. The other weird thing was that towards the end, the Rabbi actually instructed his parishioners to purchase weapons! Without missing a beat, two of them started waving swords around--in the middle of the service! Thinking I had gotten mixed up in some politics or something, I hid in my corner. However, after all that, and for reasons I can't quite put my finger on, I have to admit there was something about that Rabbi I really liked.

In a nutshell, what was the sermon about?
Well, I gather it was sort of a farewell sermon due to the Rabbi being transferred or something (he looked too young to retire). But the whole thing was a bit mysterious as to where he was going and why, and I think many of the parishioners didn't understand it either. I decided this was the main reason why everyone was sombre.

Which part of the service was like being in heaven?
The Rabbi asked his parishioners to love one another as they loved him, and as he in turn loved them. In addition, as he was pouring the Passover wine and breaking the Passover bread, he said that the wine was his blood and the bread was his body. I won't claim this wasn't initially off-putting and confusing. And I'm still not sure what he meant exactly. But I do have to say that the more I think about it, the more it seems that something very important was being communicated.

And which part was like being in... er... the other place?
So, I've seen Rabbis publicly reprimand people for talking and whispering during synagogue, and frankly, I think that's rude on the Rabbi's part. It's certainly not welcoming or inclusive. But this Rabbi did something I have never seen. Right in the middle of the sermon he accused his parishioners of harboring the intention to betray him! First it seemed to be directed against just one parishioner but then he accused another! Unbelievable! This was so offensive that one of the parishioners got up and left right then and there, never to return. Of course I surmised that the Rabbi was being transferred because he was a paranoid. 

What happened when you hung around after the service looking lost?
After singing a hymn, everyone filed out quickly and I was left alone in the room. I shouted for the butler but I think he had gone to sleep.

How would you describe the after-service coffee?
There was no coffee.

How would you feel about making this church your regular (where 10 = ecstatic, 0 = terminal)?
2 – It was certainly an experience, I'll tell you that. I'm giving it a low rating partly because I don't think services are held there on a regular basis.

Did the service make you feel glad to be a Christian?
What's a Christian?

What one thing will you remember about all this in seven days' time?
The restored lighting fixtures.

For further reading, see here, here and especially here. This is for Fr. Blake, from an idea by Liam Ronan.

Jesus was a Weapons Manufacturer

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Don't trust that man!

This post was prompted by the recent claim of Pope Francis that people who manufacture weapons shouldn't call themselves Christians:

It makes me think of...people, managers, businessmen who call themselves Christian and they manufacture weapons. That leads to a bit a distrust, doesn't it?" he said to applause.

So, everyone knows that Jesus was a carpenter, though this fact is only stated or implied a few times in the Gospels. And there is virtually nothing about His life as a carpenter, just as there is virtually nothing about the "middle years" of Jesus' life. Interestingly, some of the apocryphal gospels do include material about His carpentry skills. For example, in the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, we see a young Jesus miraculously stretching a beam of wood that Joseph had sawed too short. This is goofy. No wonder it wasn't included in the canon.

However, the Gospels do mention one physical item that Jesus made. It's the only physical item that the Gospels describe being made by Jesus. Non-miraculously, I should add.

What is it?

A table, a chair, a chest of drawers?

What?

Wait for it...

It was a whip.

After making a whip out of cords, he drove all of them out of the Temple, including the sheep and the cattle. He scattered the coins of the moneychangers and knocked over their tables.

That's right, Jesus made a whip. And he then proceeded to use that self-made weapon in a one-man commando attack on the money changers.

If that's not pastoral care, what is?

Oh, but that doesn't count. Now, you're just playing gotcha games against the Pope.

No. I'm relating an interesting fact about the Gospels, while at the same time having a bit of fun against the background of yet another idiotic Francis statement.

Here's one that's a bit better known:

Jesus told his Apostles to buy swords.

Then he told them, "But now whoever has a wallet must take it along, and his traveling bag, too. And the one who has no sword must sell his coat and buy one.

Now, there's some controversy about why He said this. Many believe it was to fulfill a prophecy. The group needed to carry swords (but no more than two swords). He didn't mean for them to be used, or at least not used in violent combat.

I think this is probably true, but that's not the point. He did ask that they be purchased.

Who should they purchase them from? Evil sword makers?

Making weapons is okay as long as you're going to use them against moneychangers or in order to fulfill prophecies.

No one ever said that Christian ethics aren't complicated.

So now that we've all read the latest enviro-encyclical, did I ever tell you the one about Jesus shriveling the tree?

Hilaire Belloc: Sonnet Upon God, The Wine Giver (For Easter Sunday)

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Here is a quirky poem from the great Catholic writer Hilaire Belloc, composed 99 Easters ago (in 1916):

Sonnet Upon God, The Wine Giver
(For Easter Sunday)

Thought Man made wine, I think God made it, too;
God making all things, made Man made good wine.
He taught him how the little tendrils twine.
About the stakes of labor close and true.
Then next, with intimate prophetic laughter,
He taught the Man, in His own image blest,
To pluck and wagon and to--all the rest!
To tread the grape and work his vintage after. 

So did God make us, making good wine makers;
So did He order us to rule the field
And now by God are we not only bakers;
But winners also sacraments to yield;
Yet most of all strong lovers, Praised be God!
Who taught us how the wine-press should be trod!

Never forget that the first miracle of Jesus was to create more wine. According to the Gospels it was good wine. And it was at a wedding.

Six weeks of fasting and abstinence are over. This is a day of joy.

Today, we celebrate with Christ. If life is often a drudge or worse, it is we who have made it so, as a consequence of our own sin.

But not today.

It is traditional at my church for the priests and brothers to sometimes invite new converts to their Easter feast. Here are good men who work sixteen hour days for God and for their parishioners. Marines, always on duty. But now they celebrate.

He wants that. It's a legitimate but imperfect foreshadowing of what's to come.

"You have kept the good wine until now," said the headwaiter at the wedding, unaware of the miracle.

The good wine. Dare we ask for it?

Villanelle for Good Friday

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For years, I sought to walk a godly pace,
Not sensing all things rushing into God.
But now I run, I run as in a race. 

There was a stream, but one I could not trace
While I was wading dust as thick as blood
And shouting that I walked a godly pace. 

There was a sun, but one I did not face,
Nor see the hills pursue it in a crowd.
I did not hear it panting in its race. 

But everyone who turns to seek His grace
Becomes a restless horse the faint breeze prods
And instigates beyond a godly pace. 

I could not be left lonely by the chase
Toward Him. The ground was moving in a flood,
And all things sang and hurtled in the race. 

And through that storm I saw how wide a space
I had to cross. I heard each slow step's thud.
For years, I sought to walk a godly pace,
But now I run, I run as in a race.

Villanelle of the Hidden Life by Sarah Ruden*

*As cited by Gates of Vienna, 2010.