Franciscan at Home

What happened to Mary? This is a question that could easily occur to anyone reading through 20th-century theology. Marian theology up to the 1960s was vibrant and flourishing. Fr. Edward O’Connor’s 1958 magisterial volume The Immaculate Conception (recently re-released by University of Notre Dame Press) seems to sum up an era. The lively essays harvest the best of traditional theology and seem poised to surge ahead, bursting as they are with both creativity and fidelity. And yet, ten years after its publication, Marian study was nearly dead. This book remains unsurpassed in its field.

What happened to Mary? This same question could be asked by anyone old enough to remember Marian piety before 1968, even if, as is more and more likely now, they were only children at the time of Vatican II, which closed that year. Marian piety had seemed so alive and well that it seemed unthinkable that it could be dislodged. But within ten years of the Council, it had all but vanished.

What happened to Mary? This same question is most likely not to be asked by Church members who grew up in the post-conciliar Church. The tragedy of any enduring loss is that eventually no one notices anything is missing. When one’s spiritual sensibilities have been dulled through lack of use, one lives an impoverished spiritual life without even realizing it. The question is not likely to occur to those born in the 70s or later, unless, perhaps, they travel to regions in the world or encounter subcultures within our own society where Marian devotion is alive and well. The encounter can almost seem shocking to the person whose spiritual sensibilities are thereby newly awakened. They might very well be prompted to ask, “But what happened to our Mary?”

What does it mean to be a disciple?

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As Christians, we are called to affirm the dignity of each human being. This dignity has its beginning from our first moment of existence, when each of us receives the gift of life itself. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “Human life must be respected and protected absolutely from the moment of conception. From the first moment of his existence, a human being must be recognized as having the rights of a person—among which is the inviolable right of every innocent being to life” (2270).

Made in God’s image, each human being possesses an intellect and will, along with the capacity to love and be loved.[1] When we live in accordance with our dignity, what we were truly made for, it causes deep happiness and fulfillment. When we witness to a culture of life, we help uphold the dignity of everyone around us.

Notes

In 2017, the bishops of the United States held a convocation focused on unpacking and applying Pope Francis’ Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium (“The Joy of the Gospel”). It was a beautiful moment of solidarity around the essential mission of the Church. Throughout the convocation, the bishops often repeated the mantra “We all are missionary disciples!” That phrase certainly echoes Pope Francis’ words in Evangelii Gaudium, “In virtue of their baptism, all the members of the People of God have become missionary disciples,” but it also reflects a desire in the American episcopate for the faithful to embrace the mission of evangelization and live out their identity as missionary disciples of Jesus Christ.[1]

This expressed desire has inspired many efforts to form evangelizers and missionary disciples at the diocesan, parochial, movement, and apostolate levels. These formation opportunities have helped the Church ask more specific questions, such as: What does a missionary disciple need to know? What skills are necessary for missionary discipleship? Given the wide array of pastoral gifts, abilities, and methods, are some more pertinent or necessary than others? How long does it take to form a missionary disciple? These questions are all relevant, even important. But in forming a missionary disciple, there is one key question: how does baptism make one a missionary disciple? Understanding the answer to this question helps catechists and leaders to approach formation from a position of collaboration with what God is already doing rather than what we hope he wants to do.

Notes

Pope St. John Paul II proclaimed the theology of the body (TOB) as perennial truths revealed by God through ancient biblical texts, but he also noted that this pedagogy of the body “takes on particular importance for contemporary man, whose science in the fields of bio-physiology and bio-medicine is very advanced” (TOB 59:3).[i] While he acknowledged the value of modern science for certain kinds of truth, he cautioned that such science does not develop “the consciousness of the body as a sign of the person” because “it is based on the disjunction between what is bodily and what is spiritual in man,” which leaves the body “deprived of the meaning and dignity that stem from the fact that this body is proper to the person” (TOB 59:3). In “a civilization that remains under the pressure of a materialistic and utilitarian way of thinking and evaluating” (TOB 23:5), this depersonalized notion of the body encourages people to treat the body as an object to be manipulated and used for their own subjective gratification.

In 2019, the Congregation for Catholic Education (CCE) promulgated Male and Female He Created Them, which identifies this same disjunction between the body and the spirit as the fundamental tenet of the gender theory linked with the so-called sexual revolution.[ii] Over the course of the twentieth century, this gender theory became an “ideology of gender” that absolutizes and weaponizes pseudoscientific concepts to establish a sharp dichotomy between the conscious individual (gender) and the body (sex) and to dictate social outcomes that serve the agenda of the sexual revolution (CCE, no. 6). On the surface, it looks like a very modern example of bad philosophy and dubious science. But from the perspective of TOB, gender ideology is an attempt to establish a cultural framework that glorifies the most degrading components of the concupiscence and lust that have plagued humanity since the advent of sin.

The gender ideology of the sexual revolution corresponds directly to the concerns about contemporary culture that led St. John Paul II to proclaim TOB, and it remains one of the most important reference points for the application of TOB in the modern world. This installment of the series summarizes the main components of this gender ideology that deviate from the meaning of human sexuality found in TOB. Additionally, this installment examines the issue of homosexuality as a prominent example of how this gender ideology clashes with TOB at the level of sexual morality.

Notes

In prayer after receiving Holy Communion, I recognized in my heart the voice of God the Father. “I want you to be radically available.” As Director of Religious Education in a large parish, I had an idea of what it meant to be radically available while working full time. It meant being available to God by showing up for daily Mass and prayer. It meant being available to my family for quick phone calls or spontaneous lunch meetings and for celebrations and vacations. It meant planning ahead but holding my plans loosely so I was interruptible. It meant keeping my office door open, welcoming parents or catechists who needed to talk.

Available to Rest in God’s Love

But why, I wondered, did God speak this phrase to me as I was retiring? I concluded that I was not to make any ongoing volunteer commitments but to trust God to lead me each day. For a couple of weeks, I delighted in unhurried phone conversations, invitations to travel, writing letters, cleaning neglected closets and corners, and catching up with friends over coffee after morning Mass.

Yet, I wondered, had I rightly understood the call to radical availability? Wasn’t it selfish of me to say no when my calendar was empty and I was qualified to help? What if I was taking the idea of radical availability too far? When I took my doubts to my husband and my spiritual director, they affirmed my discernment and encouraged me to stay the course.

In his important apostolic letter Dies Domini (“Keeping the Lord’s Day Holy”), St. John Paul II argues that to rest is to re-member (put together again) the sacred work of creation on the day set aside for worship, thus orienting times of rest toward a deeper contemplation of God’s vision of humanity. “Rest therefore acquires a sacred value: the faithful are called to rest not only as God rested, but to rest in the Lord, bringing the entire creation to him, in praise and thanksgiving, intimate as a child and friendly as a spouse.”[i]

The human need for rest is not a call for inaction or laziness. Times of rest need some form of activity to remove our minds and attachments from the workaday tasks that can too easily become heavy and uncomfortable burdens. St. John Paul II’s use of “in praise and thanksgiving” is shorthand for the celebration of the liturgy.

Embracing the Paschal Mystery

Liturgy, as the celebration of the Paschal Mystery, is the heart of Catholicism. It integrates the divine and the human, the active and the contemplative. “The Paschal mystery of Christ’s cross and Resurrection stands at the center of the Good News that the apostles, and the Church following them, are to proclaim to the world. God’s saving plan was accomplished ‘once for all’ by the redemptive death of his Son Jesus Christ” (CCC 571).

Note

This article is part of a 3-year series dedicated to promoting the efforts of the National Eucharistic Revival in the United States.

“The Body of Christ.” “Amen.” Each time we participate in Mass, we have the opportunity to encounter the Lord Jesus in the most intimate way through the reception of Holy Communion. This moment is the most practical and profound way we can live Jesus’ invitation to “abide in my love” (Jn 15:10) this side of heaven. Yet, this moment of communion is not solely about a personal bond with Jesus. The relationship with him—strengthened and nourished by the Eucharist—impels us to charity for our brothers and sisters, especially the most vulnerable.

In this article, I want to reflect with you on two of the Beatitudes, allowing the witness and words of St. Francis of Assisi to help us understand how our inner life is transformed by the reception of Holy Communion. Flowing from that transformation, as “other Christs,” we are fortified to live lives of charity in action.

Sarah: aged and barren. Joseph: rejected, betrayed, and enslaved. Moses: desperately cast afloat in a basket. Daniel: sent to death by lions. Mary: unknown, unmarried, unbelieved.

Salvation history is the story of the poor ones, the bowed down, the lowly—the anawim, as they are named in Hebrew. In both the Old Testament and the New, God tends to the impoverished, the helpless, and the abandoned with special care and favor. The widows, the orphans, the outcasts—they have nothing, and God chooses them to receive everything.

Poverty is also a central thread of the Incarnation. Jesus came in the poverty of a stable. Poor shepherds received the Good News first, before any wealthy king or powerful governor. When Jesus began his public ministry, he reached out to the disregarded children, the lame, the blind, the social pariahs, and especially the poor souls exiled in sin. Jesus lived humbly and ultimately gave himself to the darkest poverty of death.

But Easter changed everything! The Resurrection exploded the darkness and opened the eternal treasure of heaven. After the Ascension and Pentecost, the spirit-enflamed disciples pursued this treasure even as they, too, were rejected, persecuted, and ultimately martyred.