Saturday, May 30, 2015
The Daily Gift
Gift
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Marriage
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Marriage preparation
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RBudd
,
St. John Paul II
,
Theology of the Body
,
TOB
No comments
:
My
proposal to my fiancée did not go how I planned it. I'm sure plenty of
guys can say the same in today's day and age where proposals are often choreographed with
more extras than a Cecil B. DeMille epic. There is pressure to infuse as much
meaning as possible into the moment. In my case, I proposed, as planned, in
front of the Blessed Sacrament on St. John Paul II’s first feast day. Instead
of being private, however, it ended up being in front of fifteen other random
strangers in the chapel – my fiancée's personal nightmare.
As our
engagement proceeded, I was surprised by the feeling of normality. I had those
periodic “Woah, I'm getting married” moments, but in general, the monumental life change I was
preparing for seemed very much matter-of-fact. “Of course I'm marrying Maureen,
it would be weird to think otherwise.” Now for someone who never ceases to seek
the profound in anything less than the weather, I was alarmed at what I
was feeling about my own betrothal. This should be a time of being overwhelmed
at the depth of what I was entering into with this woman I loved and instead I
felt very matter-of-fact about it all. Something had to be wrong with me, my
maturity, the engagement, something.
As I reflected
and prayed about all of this, two things occurred to me. It was entirely
appropriate for me to feel this way, but it also signaled that I needed to
grow. I thought of two concepts that St. John Paul II wrote in his Theology
of the Body. The first was the sacramentality of the body and the
second was the body as a task.
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| Author's picture. |
A
sacrament, as we all remember from our second grade religious education
classes, is “an outward sign, instituted by Christ to give us grace.”
Sacraments are those visible things that not only point to invisible things,
but also really make those invisible realities present or efficacious. For
example, when someone is baptized, the symbol in the rite is one of being
washed. Yet, the physical pouring of or immersion into the water, is not merely
a sign of what God is doing, the physical action actually brings about
the spiritual action. Sacraments efficaciously make present the very things
they signify.
John
Paul takes this truth and then applies it to the body. Man and Woman are made
in God's Image and Likeness. God, who is a Trinity of Persons, exists as a
constant and complete gift of self. Being made in his Image as male and female,
this gift-reality is written precisely into our bodies in our relation to one
another.
Man,
in fact, by means of his corporality, his masculinity and femininity, becomes a
visible sign of the economy of truth and love, which has its source in God
himself and which was revealed already in the mystery of creation. Against this
vast background we understand fully the words that constitute the sacrament of
marriage, present in Genesis 2:24: "A man leaves his father and his mother
and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh." (19, 5)
So, in a
certain sense, there is a sort of “naturalness” to the idea of getting married.
There is a certain matter-of-factness that one should expect with this because
God created us to be a gift to this other. It is in our very nature to be gift,
just as it is in our nature to eat, sleep, exercise, etc. So, there should be a
certain “of course” quality to my betrothal.
And
yet, we know almost by instinct, that there is something wrong with staying
simply in the realm of the “of course.” We know that marriage is on a higher
plane, even if marrying her seems as natural as breathing to me. It is, but we
also need our growth from the sacrament of marriage itself to come close to
grasping marriage's reality. John Paul simultaneously affirms that man already
has written into him this reality of gift, and that the body is also a task for
men and women. Yes, my body, as it was the moment I was born, was given to me
as a sign of my interior reality to be a gift to another, however, my body is
also an assignment. I must grow into the reality that I am:
The
Creator has assigned as a task to man his body, his masculinity and femininity;
and that in masculinity and femininity he, in a way, assigned to him as a task
his humanity, the dignity of the person, and also the clear sign of the
interpersonal communion in which man fulfills himself through the authentic
gift of himself. Setting before man the requirements conforming to the tasks
entrusted to him, at the same time the Creator points out to man, male and
female, the ways that lead to assuming and discharging them. (59, 2)
My task
is to, in a sense, become who I am. I'm not there yet. There is a depth written
into my creation as a man to more fully become a gift and to more fully enter
into this communion of persons with my beloved who also has a depth written
into her creation and must more fully become a gift to me. The body reveals to
me that this is who I am, but it also educates and leads me to a fuller depth
of this mystery. A maturation needs to take place:
In its masculinity or femininity
the body is given as a task to the human spirit. By means of an adequate
maturity of the spirit it too becomes a sign of the person, which the person is
conscious of, and authentic "matter" in the communion of persons. In
other words, through his spiritual maturity, man discovers the nuptial
meaning proper to the body. (59, 4 emphasis mine)
And
so, while it is the most natural of things for me to enter into marriage with my
fiancée, the reality of what we are doing goes to the very heart of what it
means to be made in the image and likeness of God. By entering into this
matrimonial covenant, we continue this “pedagogy of the body” by the revelation
of the communion of persons not only to ourselves but to the rest of the world.
Our wedding and our married life together is a sacrament of this reality of who
and what we are created to be, but also stands as our task to more fully become
that reality.
My plans to infuse meaning into
my proposal to Maureen didn't work and my time of betrothal has been less a
matter of being overwhelmed by the gravity of it all and more an ordinary day to
day affair. From what I know of family life, that's probably an experience most
of us have. We go to work, make the meals, do laundry, mow the lawn, but
written into each of these very normal mundane affairs is this reality that
while doing them, we are being drawn to consider this life as a gift. That
married life, in the normal day to day, is a task given to us to live out more
completely the reality that in these moments of picking the kids up from school
and untangling the Christmas lights I am living for another - and I'm receiving from another. And just
like my proposal, the truth of this reality is already there, it doesn't need a
grand scheme to infuse it with meaning. This gift-quality of life isn't just part
of life, it is life. I am nothing else but gift, and only in pursuing
this as task, can I truly become who I am.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Throwback Thursday
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Saturday, May 23, 2015
Concupiwho?
Call to holiness
,
Concupiscence
,
Conversion
,
CTejeda
,
Define Your Terms
,
Forgiveness
,
Parenting
,
St. John Paul II
,
Theology of the Body
No comments
:
For the past two
years I’ve been participating in a men’s ministry entitled That Man is You!
The presenter of each week’s content is
a man by the name of Steve
Bollman. He doesn’t pull any punches
in the sense that he readily shares some of the lesser known aspects of
Catholic theology and spirituality. At
times this means that he loses guys in attendance at the parish hall at 6:15 am
watching the DVD, but it also has the effect of raising important questions for
guys during the post-DVD small group table conversations.
One term that
has come up repeatedly over the sessions is “concupiscence” (kon-kyoo-pi-suh ns).
It is a difficult word to pronounce without some practice, and even with
practice!
The Catechism of
the Catholic Church defines it as “human appetites or desires which remain
disordered due to the temporal consequences of original sin, which remain even
after Baptism, and which produce an inclination to sin.” The U.S. Catholic Catechism for Adults
mentions it as our “inclination to sin which shows itself in what is sometimes
referred to as a darkening of the mind and a weakening of the will, that is,
the inability to know clearly the right or wrong of an action and/or the lack
of strength to resist temptation and always to do the right thing no matter how
hard this is.”
What was new to
me though was what I recently learned by looking in the index of the
2006 edition of the Pauline Books and Media publication of Michael Waldstein’s
translation, introduction and index of Man
and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body. Saint John Paul the Great used the word
“concupiscence” 340 times over the course of the four years that he was sharing
his Wednesday catechesis with the world!
That works out to make it the ninth most used word in the whole body of
work.
Here’s how it
breaks down:
“Body” – 1319 times
“Meaning/Significance/Importance” – 625 times
“Marriage” – 502 times
“Love” – 465 times
“Heart” – 408 times
“Person” – 382 times
“Mystery” – 373 times
“Truth” – 342 times
“Concupiscence” – 340 times
“Body” – 1319 times
“Meaning/Significance/Importance” – 625 times
“Marriage” – 502 times
“Love” – 465 times
“Heart” – 408 times
“Person” – 382 times
“Mystery” – 373 times
“Truth” – 342 times
“Concupiscence” – 340 times
To give you an
idea of some other important words:
“Flesh” – 330 times
“Church” – 326 times
“Dimension” – 297 times
“Creation” – 281 times
“Theology of the Body” – 100 times
“Flesh” – 330 times
“Church” – 326 times
“Dimension” – 297 times
“Creation” – 281 times
“Theology of the Body” – 100 times
So, what really
struck me was that every other frequently used word in the TOB is a positive
term. Concupiscence sticks out like a
sore thumb, and must have a lot to do with our coming to understand the
“adequate anthropology” that St. JPII wanted to impart to us.
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| "Scream and shout" by Mindaugas Danys is licensed under C.C. by 2,0 |
Concupiscence
(and therefore in a reverse engineering kind of way all of TOB and the Gospel
of Jesus Christ) is a universal reality experienced by everyone (Original Sin
anyone?). Spend 20 minutes around any
toddler from any region of the globe and it’s guaranteed that they will all do
the same selfish behaviors that stem from overwhelming inclinations to
dominate, ignore, horde, hit, bite, scream, etc.
Right in line
with this phenomenon is the reality that I experienced as a young boy and
immature man. When no one educated me in
the way of love, understood as “making a sincere gift of myself” (Gaudium et spes 24:3), I used the
powerful gift of my masculinity to turn inward on myself and away from God and
neighbor. Not until I was five years
into living life as a weekly Mass attending, baptized and confirmed Catholic
making use of regular sacramental reconciliation was I
spiritually/socially/physically in a consistently good place with God, others
and myself.
Whenever I share this detail
of my past with other men, I hear, read or see them confirm my reflection. No one had to teach us to lust, dominate,
use, manipulate or waste time, money and energy on ourselves! Rather, all that darkness simply came
flowing out from within us because apart from the divine physician we are truly
ill. We need to be healed from the
inside out (Mk 7:20), we need to be taken back to the beginning of God’s design
for us (Mt 19:8). This is why TOB is so important, beautiful
and life changing if you allow it to be the vehicle for encountering Jesus
Christ risen from the dead today!
If you are intrigued
by this theme, take a look at this article
by Dr. Rick Fitzgibbon (specifically the second to last paragraph from the
bottom of the first page).
Here’s a VERY powerful video
story/testimony/confession by a father about how only his second daughter’s
life was able to invade his selfish-concupiscence-bubble and bring him abundant
life (Jn 10:10). Enjoy and share
widely!
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Learning Motherhood From Mary
It probably shouldn’t be so shocking to me that our toddler daughter is interested in books. After all, nearly every wall in our small apartment is lined with bookshelves. We have daily read-aloud sessions, and if she hears a line or two from a particular book that I recite from memory, she trots across the room looking to retrieve it.
One such line that has come to mind as we begin the month of May, dedicated to mothers, and in a particular way to the Blessed Mother, is from a little board book about saints. “Mary teaches us about loving mothers,” the book declares, with a picture of Mary being crowned by a smiling angel.
The words aren’t just for children. This month is a fitting time to reflect on what the Blessed Mother can teach all mothers about how to love the children entrusted to us.
At first glance it can seem overwhelming to look to Mary – a woman without sin – to grow in our own mothering. We look around at piles of dirty dishes, smell another diaper in need of changing, take a glance at the quickly filling calendar and figure that the Blessed Mother – a perfect woman raising a perfect Son – has so little in common with our 21st century American lifestyle that we’re better off looking elsewhere for guidance.
But as we reflect on the mysteries of the Rosary, there are many life lessons we can learn from Mary. We see, too, that her life was not a blissful ride on easy street. Sure, there are no mysteries centered on smelly diapers or work-life balance, but the graces present in Mary’s life can help us to embrace the struggles and joys of our own family life. Let’s take a look at a couple of lessons of motherhood we glimpse in the fifth sorrowful mystery, Jesus Dies on the Cross.
It’s tempting to think that Mary knew exactly what would happen at every moment of her and her Son’s life. We sometimes have an image of Mary giving her “yes” to Gabriel at the annunciation, knowing exactly what that “yes” would mean. In reality, the archangel did not hand Mary a 33-year calendar to inform her of the everyday “yesses” her fiat to becoming the Mother of God entailed. St. John Paul II, for example, wrote that Mary’s yes to God at the foot of the cross was perhaps the “deepest kenosis (self-emptying) of faith.” Standing at the foot of the cross, she did not know how God would be victorious through the death of her Son, but she knew and trusted that good would come from evil.
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| Pieta, Michelangelo - artwork in the public domain |
There are many crosses in motherhood – miscarriages, children who are sick or bullied or ostracized, teenage or adult children who leave the faith, and so many more. Yet, with Mary, every mother is called to have faith that God’s love will pour forth even amidst the most painful situations. There is no resurrection without the cross, and Mary reminds us to trust God’s plan.
There is another poignant lesson for mothers from the crucifixion subtly portrayed in Michelangelo’s “Pieta.” Most viewers of the statue focus on Mary’s arms embracing her Son, but a closer look also reveals her left hand open in an act of surrender. Mary reveals the art – and perhaps the biggest challenge – of motherhood: to embrace and to be detached.
On the one hand, a mother is called to love, cherish and care for the child(ren) entrusted to her. At the same time, these children are not ultimately hers, nor her husband’s. Ultimately, each child is a gift from God. Mothers must care without being possessive. Mothers can look to Mary as an example and as an intercessor in striking this delicate balance.
In his encyclical, Redemptoris Mater, St. John Paul II summarized the way in which the Blessed Mother reveals the call of all women:
It can be said that women, by looking to Mary, find in her the secret of living their femininity with dignity and of achieving their own true advancement. In the light of Mary, the Church sees in the face of women the reflection of a beauty which mirrors the loftiest sentiments of which the human heart is capable: the self-offering totality of love; the strength that is capable of bearing the greatest sorrows; limitless fidelity and tireless devotion to work; the ability to combine penetrating intuition with words of support and encouragement (#46).
At first glance it might seem that only women with biological or adoptive children have something to learn from the motherhood of Mary, but St. John Paul II would challenge us to think differently. All women, by virtue of their femininity, are called to be mothers. All women are called to be spiritual mothers whether or not any children call them, “Mom.”
The human person is entrusted to women in a unique way. It’s not that men do not love or care for people, but rather that women are able, in a particular way, to notice the needs of others and to meet them, offering empathy, a listening ear and the unique care that a particular person needs. Men and women both love, but they love differently. Women love as mothers.
Whether joyful, sorrowful, luminous or glorious, the mysteries of the rosary offer us a glimpse into how Mary loved and lived as a mother, becoming both guide and intercessor for us as we seek to more fully love as a spiritual or physical mother.
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