Tag: Dave Dashiell

There simply isn’t enough time to meditate on our Gospel today. Pope Saint John Paul II spent weeks meditating on it, as it was one of the critical inspirations for his Theology of the Body. He notices the gravity with which Jesus says “in the beginning it was not so,” and begins to wonder, “What is it about the beginning that makes it so significant?”.

His early reflections culminated in the realization of the “spousal meaning of the body.” This phrase, central to John Paul’s reflections, is hard to define succinctly, but we can get close. The body reveals the person. It is a window into the person, revealing his thoughts, feelings, personality, and ultimately his identity. In the beginning, that is, in Eden, this was transparent. The moment Adam saw Eve, it was clear that she was a person like him, and that she was extraordinarily beautiful. They were able to be naked without shame together, truly seeing the other as a gift.

This is the core of the spousal meaning of the body: having been created as a gift from God, we are meant to imitate His Trinitarian life of infinite love. Through our bodies, we reflect the Creator, and through our sexuality we reflect His boundless gift. In our relationships with others, in our bodily life, we are meant to express this total gift, ultimately through our sexuality. We ought to carry forth God’s love, and this comes prewritten in our bodies.

This provides the context for Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel. In the beginning, marriage was the flowering of this spousal meaning of the body, the ultimate expression of self-gift through sexuality, imaging God’s Trinitarian communion of love. This is still what marriage is. With God’s grace, marriage today lives up to this original state of unity and innocence.

Still, Jesus does not deny the disciples’ words when they point out that it is better not to marry. He points out that not all can accept this, but only those to whom it has been given. Saint Paul speaks similarly in 1 Corinthians 7:7, saying that “each has a particular gift from God.” Some are called to marriage, and some to continence for the kingdom.

We can see why this is. In marriage, spouses live out the spousal meaning of the body in a natural and direct way. Through the very sexuality which speaks of self-gift, they give themselves completely to another in a comprehensive (psychological and physical) union, becoming one flesh.

In the priesthood and consecrated virginity, men and women live out the spousal meaning of the body in a supernatural, indirect way. They express the same impulse toward self-gift, but give themselves entirely to their heavenly spouse. Both Christ here and Saint Paul in 1 Corinthians 7 call this the higher calling, since it mirrors life in heaven, when we will give ourselves entirely to be God and no longer be married.

As mentioned, each has his own gift from God. The superiority of continence for the kingdom is not meant to downplay the beauty of marriage, but it is something to give thanks for. God calls specific men and women to consecrated celibacy, and he gives the grace for them to reflect His Son’s life as a virgin dedicated to the kingdom. He also prepares specific men and women for holy marriage, giving the grace to maintain a one-flesh union that reflects the boundless love of the Trinity.

In both cases, we have reason to give thanks, reflecting the praise of God echoed in both our First Reading and Psalm. It all comes from the Lord, Who does the work and wins the fight for us. We need only to trust Him, cooperate, and be grateful.

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Today, the Lord tells us that He can give us true rest, beyond that which the world gives. Christ invites us to take His yoke upon us and learn from Him, but this claim is much more significant in light of our First Reading.

When God reveals His name to Moses in the burning bush, He make a bold claim: “I AM.” At face value, this is somewhat redundant. Deeply examined, it reveals two things. First, God is the only God, and all the “gods” that others worship are either non-entities or demons. They cannot begin to compare to the God of the universe, the only One who is. Compared to Him, they do not even exist. Second, this is a metaphysical claim: God is existence itself, in that there is nothing lacking to Him. He has every possible perfection, fullness of being, life in abundance.

With this revelation, God is communicating that He is and always will be truly God, truly all-powerful and all-encompassing, and that no other can compare to Him. He is the one we should turn to for all our needs, since He holds all existence in Himself and has every good gift in abundance. He remains so for all time, never able to be hindered. 

Jesus points to this reality at a different point in the Gospel of Luke (20:38), when He uses this passage to prove the resurrection: God revealed Himself as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, even though they were thought to be dead or annihilated. In reality, He remains their God, because they remain alive, even after bodily death.

In our Gospel today, Jesus connects Himself with this same image of God. It may sound comforting to hear that all who come to Jesus will find rest, and it is comforting. However, it goes much deeper than the surface. As Pope Benedict XVI pointed out, this passage comes directly before Jesus’ statement that the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath. Coupled with the concepts of “rest” and “burden,” this coalesces to the claim that He is above the Sabbath, not merely as a lawgiver but as the Author of the Sabbath, God Himself.

Only God can give the true Sabbath rest promised in the Ten Commandments and echoed in the Exodus from Egypt. Only He can provide this freedom from both external and internal enemies, from Pharaoh and sin. With this divine claim, Jesus Christ is directly connecting Himself to the “I AM” Who introduced Himself in our First Reading.

We all know that Jesus Christ is God the Son, but it is important to reflect now and again on what this really means. He is the I AM, the one God, the fullness of existence, the giver of every good gift. There is no goodness without God, because there is no existence without God. Jesus Christ, being God, is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. There is no other, and any attempt to place our final hope in another will deprive us of the promised rest.

Today, we give praise to God for His providence, for His loving care that provides us rest from our enemies, both from within and from without.

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Today we see the gravity of following Christ. In the center of our readings, we are reminded of the beauty of our call, a call to remain in the presence of the kind and merciful Lord. In the surrounding readings, God points out both the consequences of abandoning Him and the implications of following Him.

At face value, our passage from Genesis 18 concerns the great mercy of God — this is correct, of course, and our Psalm confirms it. However, we need to remember the larger context. Sodom and Gomorrah were known for their depravity, specifically the sin of sodomy. Though God shows His great kindness in condescending to Abraham and informing him of His plans, He still executes judgment on the people of the two cities. Their grave sin does not go unnoticed.

By contrast, the Lord makes clear that He would have spared the city if only ten righteous persons were found within it. He takes the opportunity to worn Lot and send His angels ahead to protect the family. But because only Lot and his family are righteous, the city is destroyed. God shows mercy to the righteous, but His judgment comes for those who repeatedly ignore His pleas.

This helps us place the other accounts of judgment throughout the Old Testament into perspective. The way God acts in response to grave sin may seem excessive, especially when we consider the manner of death — slaying, earthquake, stoning, and the like. Seen in light of Sodom and Gomorrah, though, we can see that God would never go to such lengths for those who would return to Him, called the “righteous” in our First Reading. Destruction of cities and other grave punishments are reserved for truly wayward sinners.

On the flipside of God’s stark justice, we see His great mercy. He is willing to spare the city for ten righteous, and ultimately He is ready to call all into the New Covenant in Christ. When we come to our Gospel, we see the glory of this call. All manner of people come to Jesus to follow Him, but He is no ordinary rabbi. His ministry demands sacrifice and dedication.

To the scribe, He says that following Him will mean homelessness. To the other disciple, He implies that discipleship means letting go of intimate family ties. The follower of Christ is never at home in this world, and he is ready to choose God over family and friends, if it comes to that.

Combined with our First Reading, this may seem like a bleak image. Turn away from God, and He will judge decisively. Follow God, and He will demand that you sacrifice what you hold dear. Such an image, taken on its own, neglects the fact of Who we are following: the kind and merciful Lord, Who gives us all that we need and more.

Jesus Christ is worth following no matter the sacrifice. We know that we were created to be with the Lord in heaven, and that nothing else will satisfy us. He made us to serve Him, but He made serving Him sweet. It may demand some purification so that we have room to accept Him, and it may mean some conflict with those who do not understand, but the alternative is not glamorous, and the journey is worth the sacrifice. As our Alleluia verse says, “If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.”

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On this Solemnity of Corpus Christi, the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, we focus on the ultimate sacrifice of Our Lord, and just as much on His ultimate miracle. In the Eucharist, Christ feeds us with His very Body and Blood, the same that was given on the Cross for our salvation. He gives us food for eternal life while perpetuating that one perfect sacrifice which ushered in the New Covenant.

Our First Reading, recounting the sprinkling of the blood of the covenant upon the Israelites in the desert, shows us the importance of Christ’s sacrifice. In the Old Covenant, blood was considered to hold the life of the animal. The sprinkling rite in Exodus was not simply a reminder of punishment for not following the covenant — it was moreso a purification, as Paul points out in our Second Reading: “If the blood of goats and bulls and the sprinkling of a heifer’s ashes can sanctify those who are defiled so that their flesh is cleansed, how much more will the blood of Christ … cleanse our consciences” (Heb 9:13–14).

Christ’s Blood, shed for us on the Cross, is also a cleansing agent, but one infinitely more potent than that of sacrificial cattle. While their blood sanctified legally, His sanctifies thoroughly. But as Paul is at pains to explain, Jesus follows in the same tradition, building upon it while at the same time surpassing and perfecting it. His is the definitive sacrifice, and He commands it to be re-presented in the action of the Mass. 

It is enough for us to attend Mass to participate in this sacrifice. But to truly experience its fruits in the most extraordinary way, to have life within us, we must receive His Body and Blood. As most of us know, this is not a metaphor at all. The Eucharist is truly Jesus Christ’s, God’s, Body and Blood. 

Through transubstantiation, the changing of the substance of bread and wine into His Body and Blood, we can receive Him without having to experience the potentially-nauseating taste of human flesh and blood. He preserves the accidents, the non-essential features proper to bread and wine: taste, shape, color, smell, and the like. How this is possible may be difficult to understand, but we know that it is true, at the very least from Christ Himself in John 6 and in our Gospel passage, and again from the infallible definitions of the Council of Trent.

This ultimate sacrifice made present to us is a profound gift, allowing us to experience and participate in the New Covenant in the same practical, visceral way that the Jews did in the desert. The Cross and its fruits are not something abstract, thanks to God’s providence: they are present at every Mass throughout the world, available to us day after day.

Corpus Christi is a wonderful time to reflect on the Eucharist. Though I cannot go into it here, I strongly suggest reading over the full Sequence, read between the Second Reading and the Gospel, for today. Take your time, look up the words you don’t know, and pray over the words detailing God’s providence and His impressive design in the Eucharist. Happy Solemnity!

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Today we celebrate the Memorial of Mary, Mother of the Church. Our Lady, as the woman through whom the Lord came into the world, sits as Queen of the Church, continuing to mediate His graces.

Even knowing the memorial, the First Reading can seem out of left field. Why are we hearing about the Fall on the feast day of Mary? The key is in Genesis 3:15, traditionally called the Protoevangelium, or “First Gospel”: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel.” It is considered the first proclamation of the triumph of the Messiah.

This most obviously refers to the conflict between our first parents and Satan, but it also refers to a number of other things. Depending on the language translated, it can either read as shown, or as “she will strike at your head.” Both interpretations are valid, one referring to the Messiah and the other to a female descendent of Eve. This female descendant, who will strike at Satan’s head, is none other than our Blessed Mother, the Mother of the Church.

Mary’s authority is not simply abstract. From the beginning of history, the Lord intended that she would not only bear the Savior of the world, but also that she would conquer Satan through her ministry. This is borne out not only in Marian apparitions, but even in the realm of exorcism: demons are no match for Our Lady. Her intercession is truly powerful, as we acknowledge in the Memorare.

The triumph of Our Lady, predicted in Genesis 3:15, gets fleshed out at Our Lord’s crucifixion. As we see in the Gospel, Jesus’ last act before His death is to entrust Mary to John and vice versa. The saints have always interpreted this to mean that Jesus is giving Mary to the Church as Mother, and the Church to Mary. Christ certainly rules His Church, but He chooses to do so through Mary, just as He chose to become flesh through her. 

The ecclesial typology is complete with the piercing of Christ’s side. Blood and water flow out, symbolizing the Eucharist and Baptism, marking the birth of the Church. Just as Eve came from Adam’s side, so too does the Church come from the side of Christ. None of this escapes John, the same disciple to whom Mary was entrusted.

As Mother of the Church, Mary, the “Destroyer of all heresies,” helps to preserve her from error and apostasy. She protects the Church from those who would subvert her purpose, and keeps her members fixed on Christ. Though she does not have much to say in the Gospels, she rules the Church with serenity and authority. She excellently fulfills the role of Queen Mother, serving at the right hand of the King.

Today, we receive a welcome reminder of Our Lady’s intercession, and ultimately of Our Lord’s provision for His people. Let us turn to Mary, Mother of the Church, knowing that her intercession and authority are both real and effective.

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Today is the memorial of Saint Thomas Aquinas, a great saint and a Doctor of the Church. As most of us already know, Aquinas is a giant in the Catholic theological and philosophical sphere. He took Aristotle, Plato, and the other ancients and combined them with Augustine and the best of the Christian faith. His beginner’s text, the Summa Theologiae, may not seem like beginner’s work to us, but it masterfully and systematically explains the Faith while giving it a sure defense. Though he spent most of his time writing, teaching, and praying, we can learn more from the life of this academic than at first glance.

Our readings speak of light, both in the sense of God’s Word and in the sense of the light of our good works. In the Gospel, light refers to the hidden things of God and of the human heart: “Is a lamp brought in to be placed under a bushel basket or under a bed, and not to be placed on a lampstand? For there is nothing hidden except to be made visible; nothing is secret except to come to light” (Mark 4:21–22). Saint Thomas Aquinas shows what can happen if we let our light shine before others, revealing both our good works that God has enabled us to do and the hidden things of God.

Aquinas spent his life’s work doing this, both expounding the mysteries of God and the human heart and using his good works to glorify God. For him, these activities were one and the same. He taught, spoke, and wrote about the things of God, humbly displaying his natural talent and letting the Lord infuse it with grace. He was immersed in the life of the Trinity. His writings, academic and devotional, are still widely read today, and his light continues to defend the Faith and bring souls to Christ.

We can look at the example of so great a saint and use it as a model for our own lives. We may not have the gifts necessary to be effective writers, teachers, or speakers, but we do have particular gifts that God has given to us. Whether we look at our personalities or our particular talents, there is something unique that we can use to glorify God. Just as Saint Thomas Aquinas did, we should spend our lives using our gifts and talents for the glory of God.

Next comes the important step of allowing God to guide our actions. Saint Thomas Aquinas would not have written a word if he thought that staying silent would glorify God. Nearing the end of his life, Aquinas had a magnificent vision of God, and immediately ceased writing. Compared to what he had seen, his writing counted as straw, he said; he could not do his vision justice, and knew that it was better not to write any more. We need to have the same docility, ready to work when God calls and cease when He shows us a new path.

Taking Saint Thomas Aquinas as our model, let us cultivate the gifts and talents that God has given us so that we can truly let our light shine. In doing so diligently and with docility, we will clearly reveal the hidden things of God and be able to let Jesus Christ work through us.

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