Victory Over the Sirens’ Song

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

This morning, I wish to recount two tales from Greek mythology which shed light on how we can fully live the Gospel. I want to tell you the stories of how Odysseus and his ship’s crew and Jason with his sailors each survived encounters with the mythical Sirens. The Sirens were beautiful half-woman/half-bird creatures who would sing from their island to passing ships. Their song was so alluring and entrancing that sailors would jump overboard and drown in the sea or steer their vessels into deadly shipwrecks on the rocks.

In The Odyssey, the poet Homer tells how Odysseus on his epic voyage wished to hear the Sirens’ song but also wanted to survive with his men. So Odysseus instructed his crew to tie him to the ship’s mast telling them that, no matter how much he might beg them, they were not to untie him but bind him down all the more. Then Odysseus put wax into the ear canals of all his men so they could not hear the Sirens’ song. While rowing their ship past the Sirens, Odysseus pleaded to be released, but his crew faithfully followed his previous instructions until the Sirens were left far behind them and all of them survived.

In the Greek tale of Jason and the Argonauts, Jason and his crew survived the Sirens using a different approach. Aboard their ship was a great musician named Orpheus, a master of an ancient harp called the lyre. As they passed the Sirens’ island, Orpheus plucked the strings of his instrument. And though the Sirens’ sang their evil song, Jason and all his men were so engrossed in the beauty of their friend’s music that none of them were drawn to the Sirens’ temptation.

So we see three strategies reflected in these tales: Odysseus tying himself to the mast, his men keeping wax in their ears, and Jason and his crew being captivated by something more beautiful.

Some people approach certain sins like Odysseus, asking, “How far can I entertain this temptation without falling? How much can I enjoy this sin without suffering consequences?” But having such a divided heart makes it is very hard to restrain oneself. Others, with more success, approach such sins like Odysseus’ men by giving temptation no hearing. They are not seduced by temptation because they prudently avoid its near occasions. They know where they are weak and adjust their habits accordingly. This strategy should have some place in aspects of all our lives. However, the third strategy against the allure of sin is best of all: to be led by, delighting in, and loving the holy, good, and beautiful.

Jesus says, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” The person in Christ’s parable sacrifices joyfully because he so values the treasure he has found. Jesus says, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it.” A wise merchant can peacefully trade everything else for one most beautiful and desirable thing, to his great personal profit. Jesus, God, is the Pearl of Great Price. Christ’s Kingdom and life with his saints is the treasure we have found.

Let us pray: “Lord God, help me to love you more — your goodness and beauty and love — and to love all that you love as you love it.” Ask Jesus Christ to grow and deepen your love so that as you journey on your life’s voyage your faith may not be shipwrecked but be lived in fullest freedom with peaceful, loving joy.

How Far is East From West?

7th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Today we praise the Lord with Psalm 103, a psalm written by King David: “Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and abounding in kindness. Not according to our sins does he deal with us, nor does he (repay) us according to our crimes. As far as the east is from the west, so far has he put our transgressions from us.” David rejoices that the Lord is merciful and slow to anger, not punishing our sins in the measure we deserve. God forgives our sins and removes them from us, “as far as the east is from the west.”

Let’s look more closely at that last line: “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he put our transgressions (our sins) from us.” How far away is the east, the place of sunrise, from the west, the place of sunset? Depending upon where you’re standing, your horizons may not be far away. But when ancient peoples walked beyond the next range of hills which blocked their view they did not imagine they had reached the ultimate place of the sun’s rising or setting. They knew that both east and west went on and on, farther still. What they likely did not know when King David wrote his psalms 3,000 years ago is that our Earth is spherical.

We know a number of facts that they didn’t back then, but ancient peoples were not less intelligent thinkers than us today. Could you, without using modern technology, prove that the world is round? Well, in the 3rd century B.C., Greek astronomers did and calculated the Earth’s circumference without using telescopes, photographs, airplanes, or satellites. So, given what we know now, how far is the east from the west?

Because the world is a globe, east and west eventually come together. If you were to travel from here due east while I journeyed due west, if we both kept going on making equal progress, we would meet once more near a border of China and Mongolia. If east and west actually meet together how are sins taken far from us “as far as the east is from the west” like this God-inspired psalm says?

Now some may say I’m taking biblical poetry too literally. A figure of speech doesn’t need to be painfully accurate to be true. We may know that each new morning comes from our perspective upon this spinning planet, but in ordinary conversation it’s not wrong to say the Sun rises. Or, in romantic poetry, a woman’s skin need not be made of real porcelain nor a man’s chin actually be chiseled for such metaphors to convey truths about their beauty. Saying the Lord removes our sins far away from us like the east is distant from the west is a straight-forward enough image on first impression. But humanity’s later discovery that these two opposites unite suggests an additional interpretation for this scripture passage about how our Lord takes our sins away.

Here is the puzzle God faced in regards to our redemption: how could the all-holy Trinity ever forgive humanity’s sins? If the Lord were to forgive us by merely ignoring our crimes, then what of cosmic justice and divine righteousness? There was a price to be paid which we sinners could not pay, but God found a way. As was foretold in the 85th Psalm: ‘Kindness and truth met; justice and peace kissed. Truth sprung out of the earth and justice looked down from heaven.’ Just as east and west were distant contraries which surprisingly converged, so sinless divinity and estranged humanity were amazingly joined through the Incarnation and Sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Jesus separates us from sin by uniting himself to us.

What our Lord Jesus has done to save us is reflected in all of this Sunday’s readings. In our first reading, Jesus’ great ancestor David took King Saul’s spear and water jug and then returned them, thereby proving his goodness to his persecutors. Later on the Cross, Jesus takes the soldiers’ spear into his side and water pours out with Christ’s blood, proving his love for us. In our second reading, St. Paul notes the first man, sinful Adam, is saved by the new God-man, Christ. “The first man was from the earth, earthly; the second man, from heaven.” And in our Gospel, Jesus observes that if you love those who love you and do good to those who do good to you, what is so remarkable about that? Jesus says, “Love your enemies and do good to them.” St. Paul wrote to the Romans that “God proves his love for us in this: that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” We struck him on one check and he offered the other one as well. We took his cloak and he let us strip him of his tunic. We could not purchase our own redemption but Jesus paid the cost knowing we could not pay him back. “Indeed,” as St. Paul writes, “while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son…”

Jesus Christ, the first of the Most High’s children, is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked, and merciful, just as his Father is merciful. He has loved his enemies, done good to those who hate him, blessed those who curse him, and prayed for those who mistreat him. He calls us to follow his own Christian example that we may share in his resurrected glory and heavenly rewards, “a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing,” poured into our laps. Praised be Jesus Christ! Let us always praise and thank him – for who he is and what he’s done. “From the rising of the Sun to its setting, may the name of the Lord be praised.”

Does Jesus Have an Arc?

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) in The Hunger Games (2014)

When I was growing up, my dad read a lot of science fiction novels and he once made an observation that I’ve remembered ever since. He noted how science fiction stories always feature some futuristic thing (like cloning, time-machines, or space travel) but if a sci-fi story only talked about the technology, it would be boring. “Every good story,” he said, “is a story about people.” It’s true. All great stories, be they found in literature, television, or film, are stories about people – interesting characters living through events.

What do Katniss Everdeen, Sir Thomas More, and Paddington Bear have in common? They are all film characters with the same kind of character arc. A character arc refers to the inner journey of a character throughout the course of a story. A character may go here or there, and do this or that, but their character arc is their transformation as a person. There are three main types of character arc: Positive, Negative, and Flat.

Positive arc characters change for the better. They originally believe lies about themselves and the world, things like “I’ll never find true love,” or “I can’t be a warrior.” But by the end, they’ve found the truth, embraced it, and triumphed. Most of the stories you’ve seen or heard are stories like this. Negative arc characters, on the other hand, change for the worse. They come to accept lies and wickedness. Villains’ origin stories are like this. Michael Corleone from The Godfather or Walter White in Breaking Bad are famous examples of characters with negative arcs. Katniss Everdeen, Thomas More, and Paddington, however, are characters of a third type; characters who do not change.

Flat arc characters possess the truth and live it out from the start of their stories to the end. These characters also experience struggles like the others, but rather than being transformed themselves they transform the people and world around them. In The Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen, from beginning to end, knows that the tyrannical government is evil and is willing to sacrifice herself for others (as for her little sister, Prim). In A Man for All Seasons, 1966’s Best Picture winning film about a real-life Catholic saint, Sir Thomas More is a man of virtue who endures persecution for refusing to swear a false oath against his conscience and God’s law. And throughout the Paddington movies, young Paddington remains consistently earnest, honest, polite, and friendly while enhancing the lives of the people he meets.

When we consider the Gospels and the Book of Acts as stories (indeed, true stories and the greatest ever told) what kind of arcs do we find? What kind of arc does Jesus Christ have, and what sort of characters are his apostles? Though Jesus is born as a baby and grows into adulthood, though he ministers and is put to death as a suffering servant and returns as triumphant Lord, Christ’s inner self remains the same. The Person of Jesus Christ is divine, the eternal Son of God, a flat arc character who remains the same “yesterday, today, and forever.” He knows the wickedness of the world and sacrifices himself for others. He only speaks the truth and makes no compromise with evil, despite its persecutions. And his love converts the hearts of others, healing and saving the world around him. Jesus is the model, the pattern, the archetype, of every true hero.

What is the character arc of his apostles? The Gospels do not hide their flaws. We catch them arguing among themselves about who is the greatest. They still believe the world’s lies about who and what’s important, which produces the disorders St. James describes: jealousy, envy, and selfish ambition, greed, fighting, and slavery to passions, with every foul practice. But by the Book of Acts, the apostles’ positive arc has led each of them (except Judas Iscariot) to see that the greatest of all is not the ruler over peoples but the one who cares for even little ones. Jesus’ apostles have become new men, loving servants of all in the likeness of their Lord.

We human beings love stories. That’s part of why Jesus so often taught in parables. But why do we love stories so much? And why do we root for the underdogs, such as Rocky Balboa, Forrest Gump, or Joan of Arc? We love them because we are in a story ourselves, God’s great underdog story, in which you and I are characters. Our lives are important subplots to Christ’s overarching saga. We are co-authoring with Jesus our own character arcs within it.

Will you rise higher and higher in a positive arc, finding the truth in Christ’s Church, embracing the truth and living it out? Will you eventually become like Jesus and his greatest saints, who hold to the truth in a flat arc, blessing and transforming all around them? Or, following lies into darkness, will a negative arc lead you to final tragedy and disaster? If you are on this downward path, realize that a vast audience in heaven looks on, longing for a plot-twist which you can accomplish with Christ. But do not delay, for you do not know how many more pages of the book or minutes in the movie remain before your life’s eternal epilogue. This Sunday’s gospel antiphon acclaims: “God has called us through the Gospel to possess the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Let us whole-heartedly play our part in Jesus Christ’s heroic saga, that we may also share in his story’s glorious happy ending.

Lessons From The Gulag Archipelago

14th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn was a captain in the Red Army of the Soviet Union serving bravely on the front lines against the Germans in 1945. Three months before World War II’s end in Europe, his brigade commander summoned him to headquarters and asked for his pistol. When Solzhenitsyn handed it over two counterintelligence officers suddenly crossed the room. They ripped off the insignia from his uniform and shouted: “You are under arrest!” “Me? What for?” The pair gave him no answer. But as Solzhenitsyn was being hauled to the exit, the brigade commander firmly addressed him: “Solzhenitsyn. Come back here.” With a sharp turn he broke loose and stepped back to his superior.

Solzhenitsyn had never known his commanding officer very well. This colonel had never condescended to run-of-the-mill conversations with him, but now his ever-stern face displayed thoughtfulness. “You have…” the colonel asked weightily, “a friend on the First Ukrainian Front?” Solzhenitsyn understood instantly: he was being arrested for criticizing Joseph Stalin in private letters to a school friend. Over the decades, many millions would suffer in the soviet prison camps (known as gulags) for offenses as small as this or less.

The counterintelligence officers objected. They shouted at the colonel for his revelation to the prisoner: “It’s forbidden! You have no right!” The colonel could get himself arrested, too. As Solzhenitsyn recalls in his own words, his colonel, “Zakhar Georgiyevich Travkin could have stopped right there! But no! Continuing his attempt to expunge his part in this and to stand erect before his own conscience, he rose from behind his desk — he had never stood up in my presence in my former life — and reached across the quarantine line that separated us and gave me his hand, although he would never have reached out his hand to me had I remained a free man. And pressing my hand… showing that warmth that may appear in an habitually severe face, he said fearlessly and precisely: ‘I wish you happiness. Captain!’ Not only was I no longer a captain, but I had been exposed as an enemy of the people… And he had wished [me] happiness…” Despite the danger to himself, the colonel did what little he could to bless and console a persecuted man – and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn never forgot this.

Solzhenitsyn would go on to survive almost eight years inside prisons and forced labor camps. After his release, he became a world famous author, winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1970. But the publication of his most important work, The Gulag Archipelago in 1973, outraged the soviet authorities. They stripped him of his citizenship and expelled him from the USSR – they rejected him in his native place. Two Christmases ago, St. John the Baptist’s Altar Rosary Society gifted to me a subscription to Audible. A week and a half ago, I activated it and this non-fiction book, The Gulag Archipelago, is the first thing I’m listening to. It draws on interviews, documents, diaries, and Solzhenitsyn’s own experiences as a prisoner to detail the history and the horrors of soviet gulags from 1918 to 1956.

The dictator Joseph Stalin suspected and feared he had enemies everywhere, so he would hand down orders for entire groups to be arrested (“Arrest all the generals in the Red Army”) and he ordered large numbers of political arrests to be made (“Arrest 200 people in this city for political crimes by month’s end”). To fill their quotas, the police would arrest innocent people, employ terrible tortures to extract confessions, and then ship these condemned persons off to camps, often to die there from a bullet or from the inhuman conditions.

Getting confessions was very important for the corrupt and cynical interrogators. Caring nothing whether the accused were actually criminal conspirators, they inflicted intense physical and psychological sufferings to make them admit guilt and implicate others. These police were not afraid to lie, and any court trials there were were just for show. In that case, instead of breaking their victims, why didn’t the interrogators just forge signatures onto confessions? I suspect this was due to demonic influence. Demons delight to see the wicked do evil, but they are pleased still more by seeing the good fall, to see them sin by betraying the truth and betraying those they love. Solzhenitsyn urges us to have mercy on those who people fell: “Brother mine! Do not condemn those who, finding themselves in such a situation, turned out to be weak and confessed to more than they should have. … Do not be the first to cast a stone at them.”

Some prisoners did not lie or betray anyone, but even took the opportunity to proclaim the truth. Solzhenitsyn tells the story of one Vera Korneyeva who was arrested with all seventeen members of a Christian group. Her interrogator had left her alone in a large office of the police building where half a dozen employees were sitting. A conversation started and Vera launched into a sermon. In freedom, she had been no more than a lathe operator, a stable girl, and a housewife. But the typists, stenographers, and file clerks of the secret police listened, sometimes asking her questions. People came in from other offices and the room filled up. She spoke mostly about religious faith and religious believers, and asked why anyone would need to persecute Christians.

“Believers don’t need to be watched,” she said, “they do not steal, and they do not shirk [their duties]. Do you think you can build a just society on a foundation of self-serving and envious people? Everything in the country is falling apart. Why do you spit in the hearts of your best? … Why arrest [religious] people?” At that point, her interrogator reentered and started to rudely interrupt her. But everyone shouted at him: “Oh, shut up! Keep quiet! Go ahead, woman, talk.” Solzhenitsyn notes they were forbidden to call her comrade or citizen, but they referred to Vera with the honorable title Christ used: “woman,” and she continued in the presence of her interrogator. So there in an office of the police headquarters they listened to Vera Korneyeva — and why did the words of an insignificant prisoner touch them so? Like Ezekiel, a prophet had been among them.

Soviet prisons and gulags were hellish places, but like Mount Calvary, the Lord was present even there. Nikolai Aleksandrovich Kozyrev, whose brilliant career in astronomy was interrupted by his arrest, sustained himself in prison by doing theoretical work in his mind. His line of mental exploration, however, was blocked by forgotten figures. He could not build any further — he needed the data to develop his theory, but how could he obtain this from his solitary-confinement cell? The scientist prayed: “Please, God! I have done everything I could. Please help me! Please help me continue!” His eyes were fixed on the Lord, pleading for his mercy.

At that time, he was entitled to receive one book every ten days. Half an hour after his prayer, they came to exchange his book. As usual, without asking anything at all, they pushed a book at him. It was entitled A Course in Astrophysics! What was a book like this doing in a prison library? Kozyrev threw himself into it and began memorizing everything he needed and everything he might need later on. After two days, the prison chief made a surprise inspection of his cell and immediately noticed the book. “But you are an astronomer?” “Yes,” he answered. “Take this book away from him!” Yet its providential arrival had opened the way for the scientist’s further work, helping his mind and spirit survive his ten years of detention. Following his release, Dr. Kozyrev would go on to be the discoverer, through telescopic observations, of tectonic activity on the Moon. In other words, he discovered that there is hot magma inside of the Moon. Like Jesus Christ, the Moon is not long-dead (as many have thought) but is dynamically alive today.

Solzhenitsyn observed in 1983, “There always is this fallacious belief [around the world about great atrocities]: ‘It would not be the same here; here such things are impossible.’ Alas, all the evil of the twentieth century is possible everywhere on earth.” Will this church one day be torched by arsonists, as Catholic churches are now being burned down in Canada? Could we one day be fired, beaten, or arrested, be separated from our families, be deprived of our material possessions, or die because of our faith? Jesus Christ was perfect and sinless, “and they took offense at him.” He was hated, denounced, tortured, and murdered. If they persecuted him, why wouldn’t the world persecute us? I do not know how severe the persecution of Christians will become in our lifetimes, but I see no reason not to prepare our souls for this eventuality.

If we are to be like Jesus, even up to the point of dying like Christ rather than denying him (and indeed we are each called to be willing to do this) then we must begin practicing with the little things. Jesus says, “Whoever is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and whoever who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones.” So we must never lie. Make no false professions or false confessions. As Jesus teaches us, “Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one.”

In addition to never telling falsehoods, we are called to speak the truth, like the woman Vera in the heart of the police organization. Are you afraid of what other people will think? Realize that they are concerned about what you think, too. If you are open, the Holy Spirit will give you opportunities to share the truth with others. Like Colonel Travkin with his accused Captain Solzhenitsyn, we must also be courageous enough to remain loyal to our peers when others would denounce and abandon them. And we must pray and rely on God, like Dr. Kozyrev (who was seemingly, but not truly) alone in his prison cell. Remember that Christ’s grace is sufficient for you, and his power is made perfect in weakness.

Practice these four things: never lie, share the truth, be loyal, and rely on Christ. Even if, in God’s Providence, you never come to suffer like Christ’s martyrs, by practicing these things you will become more like our Lord Jesus Christ.

The Ashes of Sin

Ash Wednesday

One evening when was a teenager, I was alone at my uncle and aunt’s home in Illinois experiencing a particular temptation. Knowing the direction where things were headed, I prayed to God for some kind of diversion, saying, “Lord, give me something.” The next moment, as I scanned the living room bookshelves, I saw a paperback book. Its red cover shows the faceless silhouette of a horned demon dressed in formal attire, a suit, beneath the book’s famous title: “The Screwtape Letters” by C.S. Lewis. That night God delivered me from temptation through what would go on to become one of my all-time favorite novels.

In it, we read the letters of a senior demon named Screwtape to a junior demon, his “nephew” Wormwood. Screwtape instructs Wormwood in spiritual and psychological techniques for misleading human beings, describing how to draw the soul of one’s target (called the “patient”) away from God (called “the Enemy“) and toward the devil (called “Our Father Below”). The book is really wonderful, seasoned with dry, ironic humor and containing great insights into human nature and spiritual realities. In one passage, Screwtape reflects upon the use of pleasure in tempting souls:

“I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His [God’s] invention, not ours. He made the pleasures: all our research so far has not enabled us to produce one. All we can do is to encourage the humans to take the pleasures which our Enemy has produced, at times, or in ways, or in degrees, which He has forbidden. … An ever increasing craving for an ever diminishing pleasure is the formula. … To get the man’s soul and give him nothing in return — that is what really gladdens our [Father the devil’s] heart.”

Indeed the demons and every sin always take good things and corrupt, distort, or misuse them.

Reflect upon fire for a moment. Is fire a good thing or is it bad? St. Francis of Assisi, in his poetic hymn “The Canticle of the Creatures,” praises God for his creation of fire:

“Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
through whom You brighten the night.
He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.”

Fire gives light, it offers heat, and it dances with a fascinating beauty. If fire were evil, would the Holy Spirit have descended in the likeness of tongues of fire at Pentecost? Yet fire, though God’s good creation, can be misused, at wrong times or wrong places or for wrong reasons, causing great suffering, destruction, and even death. Whenever we sin (be it through lying, stealing, lust, greed, gluttony, or whatever) we take some good thing God has given and set it aflame. Our misdeeds may yield heat and light for awhile, serving some purpose we find useful, but when they burn out we are left with ashes.

Do you know where the ashes we use on Ash Wednesday come from? Customarily, they are the ashes of burnt palms used on previous Palm Sundays. Like the people of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday who waved palms and sang “Hosannas” for Jesus and then went on to crucify him, so our sins are major or minor denials or rejections of Christ.

There’s another famous book about temptation and sin I’d like to mention that’s by an author named Oscar Wilde, who himself lived a sinful life but repented on his deathbed and died a Catholic. In “The Picture of Dorian Gray” a very handsome, very wealthy young man sits to have his portrait painted and offers his soul in exchange for the wish that his portrait would age instead of himself. The wish is granted and as the years pass by the picture of Dorian Gray ages while his own youthful appearance remains unchanged. However, as he lives a wicked, selfish life, the state of his sinful soul is reflected by the increasingly hideous portrait which Dorian keeps secretly hidden and covered up in his attic. Are not most of our unrepeated sins like this? Unseen by others yet marked on our souls and clearly visible to God who sees what is hidden. We have played with fire, we have been burnt by it, and we are left with ashes.

In the Old Testament, God’s people put dirt or ashes upon their heads as a sign of repentance. In the Book of Nehemiah “the Israelites gathered together while fasting and wearing sackcloth, their heads covered with dust.” And the Book of Daniel records how the prophet “turned to the Lord God, to seek help, in prayer and petition, with fasting, sackcloth, and ashes.” This year, because of the pandemic, the Vatican has asked us to put on ashes in a way common in other Catholic countries but which is different from what we’re used to. Rather than marking our foreheads with a cross, the top of our heads will be sprinkled with ashes.

Even if no one else notices these ashes atop our heads today, they will outwardly symbolize the ugliness of our secret sins and the uncleanliness of our invisible souls, and appeal to our merciful God above who is able to make us clean. Repent and believe in the Gospel, discouraging the demons and delighting the angels. Make the most of Lent this year by confessing your sins and to drawing closer to the Lord and to that holy image of yourself which God envisions for you in Heaven.

Meet St. Paul’s Newest Teacher

Rachael Butek is a Cooks Valley native and graduate of Christendom College. She will be teaching English and Religion at St. Paul’s Catholic School this fall.

Why did you choose to teach at St. Paul’s?
Because to me teaching is a mission, not just a job, and as a member of St. John’s for the past 15 years I desired to give back to the community which has done so much for me.

What do you love about English?
Everything! I love the intricacy of our language, and delving into its origins in order to better understand how we communicate today. I also enjoy exploring the way that good literature can communicate Truth and Beauty to us.

What are ten other things you like?
In no particular order: Anglo-Saxon England, gardening, calligraphy, wild turkeys, book binding, singing, bugs, dancing, long walks, and good conversation. Feel free to ask me about any of them!

What do you wish to become patron saint of someday?
Good communication. I think about 90% of the worlds problems could be improved by better communication skills!

To learn more about enrolling into St. Paul’s Catholic School call our principal, Jackie Peterson, at 715-568-3233.

Screwtape on Pandemics

I was introduced to the Christian writing of C.S. Lewis years ago during a time of temptation. Alone at my uncle and aunt’s home, I prayed to God for some kind of diversion. “Lord, give me something (to change where I see things are headed).” The next moment, scanning the living room shelves, I saw a book cover with the image you see here. That paperback preserved me that evening and would go one to become one of my all-time favorite books: The Screwtape Letters.

In these letters, a senior demon named Screwtape instructs a junior demon, his “nephew” Wormwood, in the tactics of misleading humans. Screwtape describes how to draw the soul of one’s “patient” away from God (“the Enemy“) toward the devil (“Our Father Below“). The book is not only often seasoned with ironic, dry humor, but also contains great insights into human nature and spiritual realities.

At the time of Screwtape’s fifth letter to Wormwood, Britain had just recently entered the Second World War. However, as Lewis observes in his preface, “The history of the European War, except in so far as it happens now and then to impinge upon the spiritual condition of one human being, is obviously of no interest to Screwtape.” What the demon has to say about the influence of war in the greater battle for souls contains spiritual reflections that apply to our current time of pandemic as well.

Below is the text of that letter refashioned with pandemic being substituted for war.

 

My dear Wormwood,

It is a little bit disappointing to expect a detailed report on your work and to receive instead such a vague rhapsody as your last letter. You say you arc “delirious with joy” because [of this new pandemic.](1) I see very well what has happened to you. You are not delirious; you are only drunk. Reading between the lines in your very unbalanced account of the patient’s sleepless night, I can reconstruct your state of mind fairly accurately. For the first time in your career you have tasted that wine which is the reward of all our labours — the anguish and bewilderment of a human soul — and it has gone to your head. I can hardly blame you. I do not expect old heads on young shoulders. Did the patient respond to some of your terror-pictures of the future? Did you work in some good self-pitying glances at the happy past? — some fine thrills in the pit of his stomach, were there? You played your violin prettily did you? Well, well, it’s all very natural. But do remember. Wormwood, that duty comes before pleasure. If any present self-indulgence on your part leads to the ultimate loss of the prey, you will be left eternally thirsting for that draught of which you are now so much enjoying your first sip. If, on the other hand, by steady and cool-headed application here and now you can finally secure his soul, he will then be yours forever — a brim-full living chalice of despair and horror and astonishment which you can raise to your lips as often as you please. So do not allow any temporary excitement to distract you from the real business of undermining faith and preventing the formation of virtues. Give me without fail in your next letter a full account of the patient’s reactions to the war, so that we can consider whether you are likely to do more good by making him [a reactionary extremist of one kind or the other.](2) There are all sorts of possibilities. In the meantime, I must warn you not to hope too much from a [pandemic.](3)

Of course a [plague](3) is entertaining. The immediate fear and suffering of the humans is a legitimate and pleasing refreshment for our myriads of toiling workers. But what permanent good does it do us unless we make use of it for bringing souls to Our Father Below? When I see the temporal suffering of humans who finally escape us, I feel as if I had been allowed to taste the first course of a rich banquet and then denied the rest. It is worse than not to have tasted it at all. The Enemy; true to His barbarous methods of warfare, allows us to see the short misery of His favourites only to tantalise and torment us — to mock the incessant hunger which, during this present phase of the great conflict, His blockade is admittedly imposing. Let us therefore think rather how to use, than how to enjoy, this [worldwide pandemic.](4) For it has certain tendencies inherent in it which are, in themselves, by no means in our favour. We may hope for a good deal of cruelty and [greed.](5) But, if we are not careful, we shall see thousands turning in this tribulation to the Enemy, while tens of thousands who do not go so far as that will nevertheless have their attention diverted from themselves to values and causes which they believe to be higher than the self. I know that the Enemy disapproves many of these causes. But that is where He is so unfair. He often makes prizes of humans who have given their lives for causes He thinks bad on the monstrously sophistical ground that the humans thought them good and were following the best they knew. Consider too what undesirable deaths occur [in plagues.](6) Men [die](7) in places where they knew they might [die](8) and to which they go, if they are at all of the Enemy’s party, prepared. How much better for us if all humans died [of old age](9) in costly nursing homes amid doctors who lie, nurses who lie, friends who lie, as we have trained them, promising life to the dying, encouraging the belief that sickness excuses every indulgence, and even, if our workers know their job, withholding all suggestion of a priest lest it should betray to the sick man his true condition! And how disastrous for us is the continual remembrance of death which [pandemic](3) enforces. One of our best weapons, contented worldliness, is rendered useless. [During a plague](6) not even a human can believe that he is going to live forever.

I know that Scabtree and others have seen in [plagues](10) a great opportunity for attacks on faith, but I think that view was exaggerated. The Enemy’s human partisans have all been plainly told by Him that suffering is an essential part of what He calls Redemption; so that a faith which is destroyed by a war or a pestilence cannot really have been worth the trouble of destroying. I am speaking now of diffused suffering over a long period such as the [pandemic](3) will produce. Of course, at the precise moment of terror, bereavement, or physical pain, you may catch your man when his reason is temporarily suspended. But even then, if he applies to Enemy headquarters, I have found that the post is nearly always defended.

Your affectionate uncle
SCREWTAPE

 

Endnotes:

(1) – Originally, “the European humans have started another of their wars.”

(2) – “an extreme patriot or an ardent pacifist.”

(3) – “war”

(4) – “European war”

(5) – The original word here was “unchastity,” but the levels of that sin during this pandemic appear either decreased or the same as before. An intense and selfish attachment to material goods and wealth seems the more tempting vice at this time.

(6) – “in wartime”

(7) – “are killed”

(8) – “be killed”

(9) – These words are my insertion as a contrast to those dying in nursing homes from the Coronavirus.

(10) – “wars”

For more of The Screwtape Letters, I highly-recommend this excellent illustrated series on YouTube.

Quiz: Scripture or Shakespeare?

     This year marks the 400^th anniversary of the death of William Shakespeare. Arguably, behind the King James Bible, no English literature has been as celebrated as Shakespeare’s works. But can you tell the two apart? Which of these passages are verses from the Bible and which are quotes drawn from Shakespeare’s plays? (Highlight to reveal the answers.)

1. “Lord, what fools these mortals be!”
   ● Archangel Raphael in Tobit 5:23
   ● Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream ◄◄◄
2. “For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition…”
   ● Judas Maccabeus in 1^st Maccabees 4:19
   ● King Henry in King Henry V ◄◄◄
3. “How sweet are thy words unto my taste! Yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!”
   ● Psalm 119:103 ◄◄◄
   ● Juliet in Romeo and Juliet
4. “Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.”
   ● King Solomon in Proverbs 16:18 ◄◄◄
   ● Brutus in Julius Caesar
5. “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”
   ● King Solomon in Proverbs 22:6 ◄◄◄
   ● Lady Macbeth in Macbeth
6. “Neither a borrower nor a lender be; for loan oft loses both itself and friend…”
   ● King Solomon in Ecclesiastes 6:13
   ● Lord Polonius in Hamlet ◄◄◄
7. “…Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things…”
   ● Jesus Christ in Matthew 25:23 ◄◄◄
   ● King Lear in King Lear
8. “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
   ● Jesus Christ in Mark 8:36 ◄◄◄
   ● Antonio in The Merchant of Venice
9. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
   ● St. Stephen in Acts of the Apostles 6:16
   ● Prince Hamlet in Hamlet ◄◄◄
10. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up…”
    ● St. Paul in 1^st Corinthians 13:4 ◄◄◄
    ● Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing
11. “Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, and for thy maintenance commits his body…”
    ● St. Paul in Ephesians 5:34
    ● Katharina in The Taming of the Shrew ◄◄◄

So how did you do? Leave a comment and, as it is written somewhere, “Do the part of an honest man in it.”

Time Travel & God’s Prophesies

Many science-fiction stories have explored the idea of traveling through time and changing the past. For example, 1980’s “The Final Countdown” imagined a modern-day U.S. aircraft carrier being transported back to 1941 and facing the choice of either thwarting the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor or allowing history to play out unchanged. In the early 1990’s, the TV time traveler Dr. Sam Beckett would “Quantum Leap” into other people’s lives, “striving to put right what once went wrong.” Just last fall, the internet hotly-debated the morality of going back in time to kill Adolf Hitler when he was still too young to have chosen or have committed any crimes.

Is it possible to go back in history and change the past? There’s good reason to think that it is logically impossible. Here is why: Imagine traveling back in time and, by some tragic accident, killing your grandparent as a child. This would mean that one of your parents would have never been born… so you would have never been born… which raises the question: who killed your grandparent? Or imagine a time traveler’s intended history-changing mission succeeding, such as stopping JFK’s assassination. If so, then there is no cause for the time traveler to have ever been sent back from the future at all. This sort of logical contradiction is called a paradox.

Most serious time travel stories avoid this paradox problem using the premise that the past can be visited but never truly altered. Time travelers simply fulfill the role they have always played in those past events. Any and all attempts to avert some disaster in history will either prove useless or actually contribute to bringing about the calamity.

Time travel is merely fantasy, but the prophesies of God, which have correctly foretold future events, are very real. Consider, for instance, these passages from the 22nd Psalm written by King David under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit some 1,000 years before the coming of Christ:

“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? … All who see me mock me… Like water my life drains away; all my bones are disjointed. My heart has become like wax, it melts away within me. As dry as a potsherd is my throat; my tongue cleaves to my palate… They have pierced my hands and my feet. I can count all my bones. They stare at me and gloat; they divide my garments among them; for my clothing they cast lots. … I will live for the Lord…”

This psalm is clearly fulfilled in Christ’s sufferings on the cross; the onlookers’ gloating mockery, the gambling over his garments, his dehydration and laboring heart, wounds cutting to his bones. What other form of torture is there that pierces the hands and feet? Jesus spoke this psalm’s opening words even while sharing the psalm’s closing hope in a life restored. These events were accurately described a millennium before they occurred.

God prophesying future events raises questions about human freewill. If Jesus’ crucifixion could be long foretold then what responsibility could Judas, Caiaphas, or Pontius Pilate possibly bear for their roles in the Passion? The answer is that Eternal God, from his vantage point outside of time, can behold all of history, including the free choices that each of us make. C.S. Lewis reconciles God’s knowledge and our freedom in these passages from his book “Mere Christianity”:

“…God is outside and above the Time-line. In that case, what we call ‘tomorrow’ is visible to Him in just the same way as what we call ‘today’. All the days are ‘Now’ for Him. He does not remember you doing things yesterday; He simply sees you doing them, because, though you have lost yesterday, He has not. He does not ‘foresee’ you doing things tomorrow; He simply sees you doing them: because, though tomorrow is not yet there for you, it is for Him. You never supposed that your actions at this moment were any less free because God knows what you are doing. Well, He knows your tomorrow’s actions in just the same way— because He is already in tomorrow and can simply watch you. In a sense, He does not know your action till you have done it: but then the moment at which you have done it is already ‘Now’ for Him.”

God’s knowledge of our free choices does not make our choices any less free. As St. Augustine once noted, “Just as you do not compel past events to happen by your memory of them, so God does not compel events of the future to take place by his knowledge of them.” God’s divine knowledge does not strip us of human freewill, but it does permit him to communicate perfect prophesies to his people concerning events further along our timeline. Such prophesies concern not only the Messiah’s life, but our times and future as well.

Jesus Christ has already victoriously prevailed. His Second Coming in glory is foretold and assured, and his people’s final victory over sin and death is prophesized and certain. This is the connection between time travel stories and the prophesies of God: like the futility of time travelers attempting to avert some historic disaster, any and all attempts to prevent the ultimate triumph of Christ will either prove useless or actually contribute to bringing about the coming of his Kingdom. The enemies of Jesus schemed to destroy him and his movement, but their very plotting led to the fulfillment of his mission and the birth of the Church. This knowledge is a cause for Christian endurance and joy, even amidst our times of struggle. We know that we are free to serve a faithful role in helping bring about the great, holy, happy ending of history.

Jesus is Risen, Not Undead

All the classics of horror are Catholicism twisted. Vampires are the shadow opposite of Jesus in the Eucharist; they prey on the blood of others to possess eternal life apart from God. Depictions of Frankenstein are distortions of the Mystical Body of Christ, with the dead parts of many monstrously combined as one. And what are zombie stories but corruptions of the Resurrection? A new friend of mine teaches a faith formation class with a 5th grader who periodically pipes up saying, “Jesus was a zombie.” So, this week, she taught them about how Jesus is different from zombies.

Zombies are typically said to be created by a virus or a magic spell, but Jesus lives by the power of God. Zombies lose their memory and intellects, but the risen Jesus knows his friends and converses with them. The bodies of zombies decay and they can be “killed,” but the risen Jesus is free from corruption and can die no more. Zombies “desire” to kill people, but Jesus would give them life. (What other differences can you find with your family?)

After seeing The Passion of the Christ in 2004, I heard a fellow seminarian say that the movie ending with Jesus walking from the tomb on Easter morning frustrated him—he want to see what happened next, he wanted the story to continue. Last Friday, I had the great pleasure of seeing a new film which tells that story: Risen. In it, a Roman soldier named Clavius is tasked by Governor Pontius Pilate to find the body of Jesus the Nazarene and end rumors of his resurrection. Only about a dozen people were in the theater on opening night, so if you want to enjoy this highly-recommended film on the big screen you should make a point to see it soon.

 

The Screwtape Letters, Illustrated

“I have no intention of explaining how the correspondence
which I now offer to the public fell into my hands.”

—C.S.  Lewis, in his preface to The Screwtape Letters
(A great book you should certainly read.)

 

 

 

Four Cheeks Turned — 7th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year A

Gospel: Matthew 5:38-48

When attacked, our natural response is “fight or flight,” but Jesus suggests a  supernatural response: “When someone strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other one as well.” Since the Jews regarded the left hand as unclean, they would reflexively strike with the right hand. If the right cheek were hit, then one had been backhanded with contempt. Responding by turning the other cheek neither attacks not retreats, but insists on being regarded as an equal, whom one must strike (if at all) with an open hand. Jesus wants us to stand our ground in the face of injustice, assertively but lovingly, in hopes that the offender will reconsider his ways. Jesus modeled this response when he was struck during his trial before Annas:

The high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his doctrine. Jesus answered him, “I have spoken publicly to the world. I have always taught in a synagogue or in the temple area where all the Jews gather, and in secret I have said nothing. Why ask me? Ask those who heard me what I said to them. They know what I said.” When he had said this, one of the temple guards standing there struck Jesus and said, “Is this the way you answer the high priest?” Jesus answered him, “If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong; but if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” (John 18:19-24)

Another saintly example was shown by Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Though reports vary, Mother Teresa was once begging bread from a baker for her orphanage. When the baker responded by spitting into her hand, she replied to effect, ‘I will keep this for me, but please give something for my children.’

In Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, a bishop welcomes an impoverished convict to join his table and sleep at his home. However, that night, Jean Valjean steals his host’s silverware and goes away. The police catch him and take him to the bishop. Looking at Jean Valjean, the good bishop exclaims, “Ah! here you are! I am glad to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too, which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and spoons?” Jean Valjean opens his eyes wide and stares at the venerable Bishop “with an expression which no human tongue can render any account of.” The bishop’s turn of the cheek spares the thief’s freedom and saves his soul.

And finally, a true story from a modern marriage: A woman’s husband had a terrible temper and every time it flared she would say, “That’s just like you to lose your temper!” But then, following a stroke of insight, she began responding differently. The next time he began to fly of the handle she told him, “That’s not like you to lose your temper,” and he nearly fell out of his chair. Even the kids looked at her funny, but she stuck with her new resolution. Months later, while at a restaurant together, he became irritated by the slow service. He started to fume about it, but then he suddenly stopped, turned to her, and said, “That’s not like me to lose my temper, is it?” This time, it is said, she nearly fell on the floor.

Was it true the first time the woman declared that it was not like her husband to lose his temper? The claim did not match his previous behavior, but perhaps he changed because she revealed to him that his uncontrolled anger was quite unlike the father, husband, and Christian man he truly and deeply wanted to be. This is the sort of realization and conversion we are to hope for in turning the other cheek.

Plus, a fifth story: “If a teen mugs you for your wallet…“

The Giving Tree — Tuesday, 8th Week in Ordinary Time—Year I

Do you remember The Giving Tree, that very green childrens book by Shel Silverstein? It’s a story about a boy and the tree that loved him. When he is a boy, the tree gives him her leaves to play with and her apples to eat. However, when the boy becomes a young man he comes asking for money, so that he can buy things and have fun. Since money doesn’t grow on trees, she gives him her apples for him to sell. Time passes, and he comes back, this time asking for a house. The tree lets him cut off her branches so that he may build one. Later, much later, the boy returns again, but he is now a much older and sadder man.”I want a boat that will take me far away from here,” he says. “Can you give me a boat?” The tree offers her trunk and he takes it. He fashions a boat, and sails far away. After a long time, the boy returns, now a very tried and very old man. The tree is now just an old stump. He has taken everything, but she still gives. The story closes with these words: “‘Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.’ And the boy did. And the tree was happy.”

Now if The Giving Tree has always been one of your favorite books, that’s ok. If it has a special place in your heart, don’t let me or anybody take that from you. But, as for me, this book has always bothered the heck out of me. Even when I was a kid, the story filled me with indignation. Do you know what I’m taking about?

It’s the boy! The selfish, ungrateful boy, who never gives anything back. He receives everything the tree has to give and he never says, “Thank you.” He takes everything she has to give, uses all of it up on himself, and he never says, “I’m sorry.” This book would have been so much better if he just said “thank you” at the end. Does this kid’s behavior in the story of The Giving Tree bother you like it bothers me? If so, then you and I should make sure that we’re not doing the same in our own lives.

So who would be the “giving tree” we take for granted in our lives? Our moms and dads come first to mind. They’ve given us life, food, shelter, clothing, and love our entire lives. What have we given back to them? They probably don’t need your material support right now, but they would appreciate signs of your love. (It’s probably no coincidence that Shel Silverstein dedicated The Giving Tree to his own mom.) But there is another “Giving Tree” we can take for granted, who is even greater and more generous than our parents. I speak of God, and of Jesus Christ, “from whom all good things come.” What should we do for our parents and for God? We should honor them with our words. We should obey them in our actions. We should be grateful for everything and show it.

For God, we do this by way of sacrifices. (This Eucharist is a thanksgiving sacrifice. The name itself means thanksgiving in Greek.) Yet our sacrifice is not merely what happens here at church, but the offering of our whole lives. Those who make no sacrifices for God in their daily lives bring nothing to His altar. What do we have to offer Him today? What will we have to offer him tomorrow?

Jesus Christ is The Giving Tree. At this sacrifice, let us say to Him, “I’m sorry, for misusing your gifts.” Let us say, “Thank you, for your generosity to us.” And let us say, “I love you,” because that will make Him happy.

Holy Reading — Wednesday, 5th Week in Ordinary Time—Year II

If a saint, like St. Scholastica or St. Benedict, were coming to speak at our parish tonight, would you come out to listen to what they had to say? The queen of Sheba (thought to be present day Ethiopia) traveled hundreds of miles just to hear the wisdom of King Solomon. What would you be willing to offer in time and treasure to listen to the wisdom of a saint today? In truth, we can encounter their wisdom today and at fraction of the queen’s effort.

The saints of both modern times and centuries long past wrote their wisdom in books, which are easily assessable for us today. Jesus observes that food which comes from outside and passes through us cannot defile. The saints’ holy books, however, can sanctify us, if we hold on to their words with a receptive heart.

As it is written: “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.” Spiritual reading is important for the growth of the Christian disciple, so commit yourself to beginning some holy reading that interests you.

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time—Year B

Somewhere, in an underground lair, a secret hideout, or a den of iniquity, we find a criminal mastermind, or a mad scientist, scheming a nefarious plot. “Mah-ha-ha-ha,” the villain manically laughs. “Once I unleash my evil plan, evil will conquer the world.”

This is the way of villains as we often find them in comic books. Comic book bad guys love doing evil for evil’s sake. But we should realize that this isn’t why people do bad things in our world. In the real world, nobody does evil for evils sake. Every single person acts to achieve some real or perceived good. Sinners simply go about the pursuit of happiness in wrong ways. Bad people are not bad because they’re trying to do bad things. Unrepentant sinners actually feel justified in what they do.

For instance, in Jesus’ day, influential people said, “That Jesus from Nazareth so obnoxious. Let’s have him condemned and see how he holds up then.  If he’s really holier-than-thou, a son of God, then God will come to his rescue—otherwise he gets what he deserves.” People still rationalize like this today. It’s easy to come up all sorts of reasons for doing bad things rather than what is right:

“Lying? What I said isn’t technically untrue. Besides, it’s only a little white lie.”

“Angry? Is it any wonder that I get so angry when I have to deal with stuff this.”

“Stealing? The way I see it, they make plenty of money, and I deserve more than what they pay me.”

Activities outside of marriage?  “What’s the big deal? It’s all consensual, and nobody’s getting hurt. Besides, we love each other.”

It’s not only “bad people” who say things like this. Each of us fall into embracing lies like these sometimes. But what is the antidote for rationalizing aside our sins? The cure for this is a prayer life with Jesus Christ.

When the apostles came face to face with Jesus inside the house, Jesus began to ask them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they remained silent, for they had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest. Coming into Jesus’ presence, who is the embodiment of Truth, the reality of what they had been doing became clear for them. Their false illusions completely faded away, like the smoke from a blown out candle.

We should spend time in conversational prayer with Jesus Christ every day, allowing Him to form us, build us up, and console us. When you receive the encouragement, confidence, and consolation which Christ is eager to give you in prayer, when He acknowledges you as His own brother or sister, as His good friend, as a favored child of His Father, fears dissolve and you live in peace—a peace in which cleverly-devised excuses are no longer sought for and no longer necessary.