the real thing
By Diogenes (articles ) | Feb 01, 2007
After a particularly disappointing morning at church you can cheer yourself up with a glance at Gumbleton's and Greeley's thoughts on the Gospel of the day, which will nearly always make the homily you just heard seem good by comparison. Partly they annoy by using the Gospel as a means in the attainment of some polemical end; partly they annoy by the flaccid semi-Arian Jesus they present us with. Their Jesus turns out to be a rogue preacher with a truculent social agenda: a man, in fact, very much like themselves. This brand of christology puts me in mind of a problem latent in Dr. McCorry's disparagement of Eucharistic adoration:
Maybe God is telling us that we need to change our focus from Jesus in the tabernacle onto Jesus in the tabernacle of our brothers and sisters. Because, my friends, ultimately where we reserve the blessed sacrament is no where near as important as to how we treat the blessed sacrament which is contained in the tabernacle of the people we encounter daily.
On first reading this proposal might sound edifying ("as you have done to the least of my brethren, so you have done to me ..."). But finding Jesus in our brothers and sisters is edifying only if Jesus himself is something extraordinary. When Mother Teresa said that Jesus was to be found "in the distressing guise of the poor" her confession had wallop. Why? Because she believed Jesus was God Incarnate, and to see God Incarnate as somehow present in a wretched human being is to acknowledge that person as intrinsically worthy of reverence. But if you're a social Gospel christologist, to say you find Jesus in others is to say you can see in them the Jesus you yourself have found in the New Testament: a heterodox rabbi of first century Galilee. Sure, it's meant to be a compliment, but it doesn't shake you up, doesn't force you to confront, radically, the difference in the way you treat important and unimportant people. If Jesus is no big deal, finding Him in others is no big deal either.
Now consider Eucharistic adoration again. Mother Teresa regarded it a daily necessity if she and her sisters were to persevere in their work. On one hand, adoration reinforces one's faith that Jesus is God Incarnate, even as the belief itself summons the believer to adoration. But worshiping the body of Jesus under the species of bread also coaches us in a particular disconnect between appearance and reality, where the underlying reality is infinitely more precious than the surface appearance. Now it's comparatively easy to minister to poor people when they're cooperative and grateful and make the minister feel a sense of accomplishment. But sometimes, we're told, they're cantankerous to the point of being positively repellent. That's the point at which the self-congratulatory do-gooders quit and go home and where the real charity kicks in. That's the point at which it's impossible to see the face of Jesus in the destitute (or sick, or deranged) except as a pure act of faith. And that's the point at which it matters whether Jesus is divine or not, because belief in the repulsively disguised spark of divinity is the only reason to keep on giving love in exchange for contempt.
When some natural catastrophe (a famine, epidemic, earthquake) catches the public imagination, there's usually a noticeably widespread compassionate response -- noticeable because (and as long as) the news crews have their cameras trained on the relief efforts. I don't intend to demean that spontaneous compassion, but I'm more impressed by the folks who remain, who stick with the wretched people in the wretched circumstances years after the media buzz has ended and everyone else has forgotten about it -- most especially when the virtuous and amiable poor have been sufficiently relieved and only the less virtuous or less amiable are left. The McCorrys would have us "change our focus from Jesus in the tabernacle onto Jesus in the tabernacle of our brothers and sisters." But I'd want to ask: who are the folks that in fact stick it for the long haul -- those who see adoration and charity as mutually exclusive alternatives, or those who see the first as a motive and a sustenance for the second?
An appeal from our founder, Dr. Jeffrey Mirus:
Dear reader: If you found the information on this page helpful in your pursuit of a better Catholic life, please support our work with a donation. Your donation will help us reach seven million Truth-seeking readers worldwide this year. Thank you!
Our Spring Challenge Grant
Progress toward our Spring Challenge Grant goal ($18,565 to go):
All comments are moderated. To lighten our editing burden, only current donors are allowed to Sound Off. If you are a donor, log in to see the comment form; otherwise please support our work, and Sound Off!
Posted by: Fr. William -
Feb. 08, 2007 12:36 PM ET USA
Blessed Mother Teresa, pray for us to grow in holiness, in our love for Jesus and His Church, in our love for and devotion to the Holy Eucharist, the source and summit of the Christian life.
Posted by: Fr. William -
Feb. 07, 2007 8:04 PM ET USA
Thank you, Diogenes. Amen. Indeed, as a priest, what I "do" each day only makes sense because of the Holy Eucharist... The heart of each day is offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and adoring Jesus in the Holy Eucharist. He orders the day that He gives me... He uses me well as a vessel of His love and mercy when, as one of His disciples, I am nourished by Him, in His Mass, in His Word, in His Church.... Our being & doing must begin through, with & in Jesus, the Only Savior of the world.
Posted by: John J Plick -
Feb. 04, 2007 8:24 PM ET USA
"It would be easier for the earth to exist without the sun than to exist without the Mass" St Padre Pio
Posted by: -
Feb. 02, 2007 2:08 PM ET USA
I think I know what they are trying to say, but could they have looked at Stalin or Hitler and said the same thing? Aliester Crowley or Anton Levay certainly would be exceptions to that. See God's creatures with a supernatural soul capable of sharing Heaveneternally. Also recognize those doing the work of Satan and disengage from contact with them.
Posted by: Hammer of Heretics -
Feb. 02, 2007 9:28 AM ET USA
I simply had accepted as a matter of faith that Christ was really and truly in the Blessed Sacrament, but I really didn't have a good sense for "why" he chose to appear in such a form. Thank You, Fr. Di, for giving me a really good answer: "...worshiping the body of Jesus under the species of bread also coaches us in a particular disconnect between appearance and reality, where the underlying reality is infinitely more precious than the surface appearance."
Posted by: www.inquisition.ca -
Feb. 01, 2007 10:02 PM ET USA
Amen to "medicus mentis"!
Posted by: -
Feb. 01, 2007 4:20 PM ET USA
Anyone who remains after the microphones and cameras have departed is halfway there. Good on ya, Uncle Di.
Posted by: sparch -
Feb. 01, 2007 2:05 PM ET USA
I remember someone saying, The more God looks and sounds like you, the odds are pretty good that it is you whom you are seeing and listening to, not God. Sacrifice requires that each of us extend ourselves until we crawl outside ourselves. It takes effort and faith to glimpse God residing in others, but it is not impossible.
Posted by: -
Feb. 01, 2007 12:36 PM ET USA
You know, I've about had my fill of pap from these nitwits. I propose a ban on mindless twits. We know they're out there, but we don't have to wallow in it.
Posted by: Fides -
Feb. 01, 2007 9:02 AM ET USA
"That's the point at which the self-congratulatory do-gooders quit and go home and where the real charity kicks in." Amen! Having worked in shelter ministry for a number of years I can truly attest to this. Every new wave of volunteers would get the same advice - "don't expect the majority of these people to thank you. You do this as unto the Lord". Those who had a deep relationship with the Lord stayed the course. They experienced the Lord. The others left - "You never knew me".
Posted by: -
Feb. 01, 2007 7:29 AM ET USA
This is simply the best short piece on several matters that have troubled me since I began to seriously study our faith. It is relevant, cogent, charitable, and hard-hitting without being offensive. Thank you. Duc in altum, Diogenes.