Divine Mercy Sunday – 28 April 2019

Divine Mercy Sunday – 28 April 2019

Thus they even carried the sick out into the streets and laid them on cots and mats so that when Peter came by, at least his shadow might fall on one or another of them. (Is 50:6:7)

There are two kinds of shadow. The first gives respite from the hot sun. This is what we simply refer to as “shade” and Jonah, while in Nineveh, was very glad for its presence and angry at its loss (Jon 4:6; 8-9). The other type of shade is metaphorical as in J.R.R Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, where the preservation of light (goodness) was threatened to be overcome by the shadow of darkness (evil). Hence, trees cast shadows providing relief from the heat; but the devil also casts his shadow upon a world that should quake in fear if not for the redemptive act of Jesus Christ.

The psalmist also presents this dichotomy of shadow. In Psalm 23 he speaks of the “valley of the shadow of death” which the psalmist would rightly fear if God was not with him with his rod and staff of comfort (Ps 23:4). Psalm 23 offered the Israelites a glimpse of hope, a prophetic consolation until the coming of the Christ.

Yet, the psalmist also speaks of a shadow of blessing in Psalm 17. Here God Himself is our pleasing shade, our “refuge from… foes” (Ps17:7). The psalmist is overjoyed for this kind of shade as he asks God to hide him “in the shadow of [his] wings” (Ps 17:8). The psalmist finds in this shade protection from his enemies.

We Christians know that the greatest and last enemy is death (1 Cor 15:26). Fortunately we have the soothing message of St. Paul that Christ comes to destroy the shadow of death. (Still, it is good that we remember that this shadow remains for those who utterly reject God’s divine mercy and show no mercy themselves – Mt 18:30-35).

Thus, on this Divine Mercy Sunday we have placed on our bulletin cover a work by the great Quattrocento, Florentine painter Masaccio entitled St. Peter Healing the Sick with His Shadow. Masaccio ushered in the Early Renaissance and like Giotto is another example of how the medieval gothic style transitioned organically into the renaissance through artistic progression (not through radical reformation as some would claim) especially shown in Masaccio whose early works were Gothic triptychs and sacred icons. Masaccio was one of the first Italian painters to master light and perspective; and emotion through posture and expression.

In our art piece taken from today’s first reading, Peter appears almost cold and uncaring in appearance as he passes the on-looking sick and immobile. But we must recall the transitional art of Masaccio and that he was painting in two styles. If you cut out the image of St. Peter and set it alone it would appear statuesque. This is the sacredness of the Gothic. Next we have attentive figures who await Peter’s healing. This is the naturalism of the Renaissance. These latter figures are active venerators of Peter’s shadow which is cast as God’s grace on the lame man sitting on the ground. No doubt this fresco inspired young artists with hope in the novel style. Yet, it also inspired eager Christians with hope for a glorious healing.

-Steve Guillotte, Director of Pastoral Services

Easter Sunday – 21 April 2019

Easter Sunday – 21 April 2019

They found the stone rolled away from the tomb… While they were puzzling over this, behold, two men in dazzling garments appeared to them… They said to them, “Why do you seek the living one among the dead? He is not here, but he has been raised. (Lk 24:2, 4, 5-6)

St. Paul declared consistently that death befell mankind as an effect of sin. In his letter to the Colossians, Paul states that we were all once “dead in our transgressions” (Col 2:13) and in his epistle to the Ephesians Paul states much the same, adding that we were brought to life only through Christ (Eph 2: 1, 5). Thus when we read the above quotation about the angels speaking to the women who came to visit the tomb of the crucified Jesus on the first Easter morning, we must consider that “among the dead” relates not only to those who have physically died. In the spiritual sense, “living… among the dead” means living a life of sin without the rectification of grace offered by Jesus Christ – the Son of God who became man, suffered, died, and rose from the dead, and who is most alive because he never sinned.

On Easter morning Jesus not only broke from His own tomb; He smashed all our tombs as well. He set man free (Jn 8:36) so we might arise from our spiritual death in sin and so approach the waters of the baptism unto new life (Rom 6:3-4). Easter and baptism are intimately connected which is why the Church baptizes its new, adult Catholics at the Easter Vigil Mass and why those of us already baptized renew our promises at Easter. As St. Paul writes in his Letter to the Romans, our bloodless baptism makes us die and rise with Christ.

This is very important because we must renew our commitment to evangelize the truth about the necessity of baptism for salvation. Easter Sunday is a good day to begin. Now it is true that the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches “a baptism of desire” unto salvation for those ignorant of the Gospel message. However, we must be honest and admit that self-satisfied, post-modern man is becoming ever less likely to seek the truth and do the will of God (CCCC 1260) without intervention from an Easter person. To be an “Easter People” means not only that we are saved, but that we work to save others through baptism and by calling people back to their baptismal roots.

We place on our bulletin cover for this Easter Sunday a painting by the Dutch master, Rembrandt, entitled Christ and St. Mary Magdalene at the Tomb (1638). Here we see Christ the Creator at a distance from Jerusalem establishing his new creation represented as a well-kept garden. We see angels leisurely guarding the empty tomb; we see Jesus in the attire of a gardener. The figure of Mary Magdalene is a hinge between the angels and Jesus.

In the lower left we see two people walking away uninterested; they represent the world. Yet Mary who once anointed Jesus in Bethany (Jn 12:3) and comes again Easter morning to do the same, is full of interest. She will be glad to be anointed herself in the cleansing of baptism still to come (Mt 28:19).

Steve Guillotte, Director of Pastoral Services

Palm Sunday – 14 April 2019

Palm Sunday – 14 April 2019

I gave my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who plucked my beard; my face I did not shield from buffets and spitting. The LORD GOD is my help, therefore I am not disgraced… (Is 50:6:7)

The farsighted utterances of the prophet Isaiah generally known as the Suffering Servant Prophecies (which include the quotation above) are written in the past tense. This should amaze not only Christians, but every person with an open mind toward religion. This is because if, for instance, we heard a man saying: “I went to the grocery store and picked up some fruits and vegetables”, we must assume that this man already completed the task. Such would also be the case if we overheard the man say, “I gave my back to those who beat me…” In this case we would surmise that the man was captured by an enemy and mistreated in the past. Yet, this same sentence was written by Isaiah some seven centuries before the action ever came true. For some reason, the Spirit of God wished to describe a future event using the past tense. This is not a case of “going back to the future”, but rather of going forward to the past!

Why didn’t Isaiah write instead, “I will give my back to those who will beat me…” like when he wrote, “a virgin will conceive a son and will call him Immanuel? Why is the Incarnation in the future tense for Isaiah, but the Passion in the past tense? One spiritual explanation is that since the future tense of a verb gives the sense of something that still has to be proven, the past tense gives the sense of it being proved. Hence, while the Spirit wanted the Incarnation to require our verification, the Spirit desired that the Passion be already verified. In spiritual terms this means that we are to await the joy, having acknowledged the sacrifice.

To commemorate the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ on this Palm or Passion Sunday, we have placed on our bulletin cover another work of James Tissot entitled The Scourging on the Back (1894 – courtesy of the Brooklyn Museum). Here we see the sad but glorious fulfillment of the quotation of Isaiah. We say “here” because even though the Passion is in the past we explore its science and its art in the present during every season of Lent. Whether in the Stations of the Cross or the reading of the Passion or the meditation on the Crucifix or in the present suffering of ourselves or of those we love, we attempt to experience and understand the loving and redeeming sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

Many other denominations of Christians would desire that Catholics just get over it; that we take Jesus off our crosses and move on to the Resurrection. Well, we do get there eventually, as we will next Sunday. But first we prefer to be faithfully biblical and revel with Isaiah in the past and future tenses. We also revel with the Psalmist in the present tense as when he proclaims of Our Lord’s sacrifice, “My heart is ready O’ God; my heart is ready!” (Ps 108:1)

Steve Guillotte, Director of Pastoral Services

5th Sunday in Lent – 7 April 2019

5th Sunday in Lent – 7 April 2019

Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” (Jn: 8:6-7)

The biblical narrative of the adulteress who was brought by the scribes and Pharisees before Jesus for judgment is (in the gospel of John) a brief but profound story. St. John related this story not only to instruct his readers about how Jesus was tested and pursued by the Jewish leadership, but also as a lesson about divine absolution. It is true that the Pharisees had earlier sent some officials to arrest Jesus (Jn 7:32). It is also true that the Pharisees even imputed one of their own, Nicodemus, for listening to Jesus (Jn 7:52). These are important points as John prepares to relate the Passion of Christ. However, this story is not only about the growing conspiracy against Jesus; it is also about the developing science of sacramental forgiveness.

Notice that the story does not follow the normal sacramental order of Confession: examination of conscience, firm purpose of amendment, confession, penance, and absolution. Yet, all parts of the confessional experience are present. First, the woman was caught in adultery and so the confession comes rather as an accusation. This is how we should all approach confession – as if caught in the act and exposed to accusation before God. Next comes the demanded penance which Jesus forgoes for now in place of the examination of conscience – not only for the adulteress, but also for her accusers (the practice of which thankfully curtails their own sin of murder). Finally, Jesus forgives the adulteress by way of His divine omniscience; for he graciously perceives her sorrow and her intent to amend her life. Lastly, underlying this science of reconciliation is its unspoken vital principle for all absolution: that in order to be forgiven, one must be willing to forgive others (Mt 18:33-34).

To recall this wonderful narrative of divine forgiveness on this 5th Sunday in Lent, we place on our bulletin cover a work by the Venetian Rococo painter Giovanni Battista Tiepolo entitled, Woman Taken in Adultery (courtesy of the Smithsonian American Art Museum). Rococo was a highly decorative style expanded from the Baroque, and Tiepolo was one of its masters who painted ceilings and other frescos with ornate religious, classical, and allegorical themes.

We are only able to show the central portion of the painting. We see a Pharisee standing behind the woman with his hand up as if to hail Jesus’ authority when in truth he has come to undermine it. Tiepolo creates an invisible diagonal, an interlocking “look” between Jesus and the Pharisee which visually goes through the woman. Absent is the force of any stone throwers while Jesus Himself is presented forward-kneeling on left leg as one able and ready to pounce forward in defense of the lady. This may also be why the Pharisee appears with docile bow, hiding behind the woman from the strong justice of Our Lord.
Now our adulteress may not be the guiltless Susanna protected by Daniel (Dn 13:48), however she has, as every repentant sinner does, the merciful protection of Jesus Christ.

Steve Guillotte, Director of Pastoral Services

4th Sunday in Lent – 31 March 2019

4th Sunday in Lent – 31 March 2019

On the day after the Passover, they ate of the produce of the land… On that same day after the Passover, on which they ate of the produce of the land, the manna ceased;… the Israelites … ate of the yield of the land of Canaan. (Jos 5:11-12)

Canaan was an ancient land of the Near East most immediately east of the Mediterranean Sea. It is the land promised by God to Abraham and his descendants (Gn 15:18-21). For forty years the Israelites journeyed toward this country, wandering in the wilderness while being led by Moses until his aide Joshua finally crossed the Jordan River (Jos 3:17) and brought the Israelites into this Promised Land. During their forty year sojourn in the desert the Israelites gathered up and ate manna, food which appeared miraculously each morning on the floor of the wilderness. Moses and Joshua had led the sons or tribes of Israel out of Egyptian bondage; a bondage that had begun only after the pharaohs had forgotten the good deeds and blessings brought upon Egypt by God through Joseph (Ex 1:8-10), the son of Israel and Rachel.

Once the Israelites crossed the Jordan River by the power of God, they began to eat of the fruit of their new land. This was a sign not only of the completion of their journey but also of the completion of their fast and abstinence in the desert, a forty year penance brought on by their own disobedience (Num 14:34). With the manna, God sustained the ancient nation of Israel throughout its moral and spiritual rectification. The manna was not only physical nutrition, but also salvific representation: a sign that God would sustain them and forge them into a unified nation in the midst of many trials. Further, that the manna ceased to appear in proximity to the first Passover feast celebrated in the Promised Land, indicates that it was the Passover, not the manna, which would be the future glory of Israel.

To better explain this notion we have placed on our bulletin cover another work by James Tissot for this 4th Sunday in Lent. This work, painted on wood board in gouache or opaque watercolor, is entitled, Gathering of the Manna (1896). The water base paint creates an image which close up looks more like an illustration for an action comic book; and this image is full of action: bodies leaning and twisting this way and that way, while the segmented dunes produce a deepening and distant artistic perspective.

Whether intended or not, this work is symbolic. The multiple colored striping of the dunes reminds us of God’s rainbow (or rather God’s promise) to Noah; but more suitably it recalls the “many colored coat” made by Jacob for his son Joseph (Gn 37:3). Proceeding visually from the banded background, we can see the Israelites moving away from the Josephic Egypt into the Mosaic Law (foreground) symbolized by (and allied to) the descendant manna. Yet in the middle of this scene stands a woman looking solemnly toward the future. She looks to the Passover still-to-come in Jesus Christ, the Bread from Heaven. She stands as a pillar of revelation, a sacred caryatid; a majestic or even Marian monstrance upholding the basket of the Bread of Life, our Most Beloved and Holy Eucharist.

Steve Guillotte, Director of Pastoral Services

3rd Sunday in Lent – 24 March 2019

3rd Sunday in Lent – 24 March 2019

For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. So cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?‘ (Lk: 13:7)

It must be allowed that fig trees may not bear fruit until the age of four, so the tree in our story must be about seven years old. Figs need not be grown in an orchard; they are self-fruitful. They do require much sun and the right amount of fertilizer – too much feeding however can cause the fruit to fall immature and then result in a long recovery period. This is not the case of the fig tree in our parable. It has been underfed.

In this parable, the gardener responds to the owner of the tree: ‘Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.’” (Lk: 13:8-9). In spiritual terms, fertilizer is symbolic of nutrition (i.e. grace) while the soil in which the tree is planted on earth is the ecosystem of grace, that is, the Church, which itself needs regular tilling.

In this parable the fig tree is the human soul. Souls in the state of grace produce good fruit. It is the soul that is not in the state of grace, but which lives in grave sin, which is fruitless. The fig tree in our story is the soul that stubbornly refuses the grace and mercy offered by God. The story is meant to show us that God the Father is very patient by offering active grace and interior sanctity. Yet in the end, the soul that proves itself willfully fruitless will be cut down, fully cut off from grace and uprooted from the mystical Church, the Body of Christ, which malicious souls “exhaust”.

On this 3rd Sunday in Lent we place on our bulletin cover a work by religious genre painter James Tissot, entitled The Vine Dresser and the Fig Tree. This “event” is presented (as with many of Tissot’s works) with scenery requiring a landscape rather than a portrait viewing. Hence, we are unable to include on our bulletin cover the full image of the owner of the tree; we show only his foot in the lower right hand corner of our bulletin image to acknowledge his presence.

Here we see the fig tree sporting very few leaves so that its capacity to receive light has been compromised. It is not prosperous (Ps 1:3). Its defoliation has come about through its failure to take in the proper nutrition (grace). In the parable, the tree is given more time to allow for “soil improvement” so that it may be saved (i.e. be fruit-bearing in the future). The vine dresser is Jesus Christ; but so are his vicars, the stewards of the Church which stand in for Him on earth. If they fail to feed the fig trees by properly fostering the soil – the Church – then they too will be held to account to the owner (God) for their time and produce. In our illustration then, it is not only the fig tree, but also the stewards, who, especially at present, are in a place of spiritual probation.

Steve Guillotte, Director of Pastoral Services