Treasure

But God said to him, “Fool! This very night the demand will be made for your soul; and this hoard of yours, whose will it be then?”

So it is when a man stores up treasure for himself in place of making himself rich in the sight of God.’

Luke 12:20 - 21

Don’t let anyone tell you that you shouldn’t plan for your retirement! Even at my age funding a lengthy retirement is no easy task. Like many other baby boomers this will mean that we’ll need what we have set aside and that may mean there is little left to pass on to our children. The drive today is for young people to put any extra income into superannuation. I have no doubt it is very good advice.

So when Luke (12:15) writes, “a man’s life is not made secure by what he owns, even when he has more than he needs,” he is undoubtedly reminding us that there is more to life than storing up treasure on earth, and that it should be balanced with storing up treasure in heaven. And what might this treasure be? And how can it be measured? Perhaps the jewels are justice, hope, truth, charity, reverence, a sense of wonder, dignity, endurance, a commitment to community, service, servant leadership, faith, peace, joy, honesty, respect, integrity, understanding, compassion, responsibility, equity, health and wellbeing. They may not add up to three score and ten years (and preferably four score and ten), but they can be reinvested over and over again. These, we say in modern parlance, are Gospel values.

Of course life expectancy in first century Palestine was somewhat brief, and the idea of living to a ripe old age was available only to the wealthy and lucky. The vast majority of the population of Palestine would have lived somewhat precariously, dependent on inheritance, hard work, good weather and the generosity of friends and neighbours. Jesus isn't against cautious preparation for old age, only avarice that prevents generosity.

Now Luke's Jesus does caution us that we should also live fully, that we should be alive to the moment, to enjoy the fruits of our labour, “Take things easy, eat, drink, have a good time (12:19),” for he warns that all your savings are for nothing should you die! Balance ought be added to our list of Gospel values, for it is in the balance – living in the present, and preparing for the future, that we spend our treasure. Spend it well.

Peter Douglas

 

Everything we have is temporary

 

Michael Simone SJ

Matthew and Luke faced a similar problem. Writing some 80 to 90 years after the birth of Christ, both needed to respond to the apparent delay of the Lord’s return. To the disciples of Jewish background who made up much of the early church, the delay was especially perplexing. Gentile armies had raged against Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple in the year 70 C.E. A wave of persecution followed, in which many followers of Christ lost their lives. The survivors expected Jesus to come soon after these events, but as time passed, expectation turned into disappointment.

Matthew’s Gospel traces the way these Jewish disciples adjusted their understanding and came to regard Jesus’ teachings as a guideline for moral living rather than as preparation for the end times. Luke addressed the problem of Christ’s delayed return in a different way. He found in end-times expectations a spiritual wisdom that inspired disciples to material detachment and humble service.

This spoke to many of the Christians who entered the church after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple. These newer members came from gentile backgrounds and had little interest in ancient Israelite prophecies about God’s coming kingdom. Gentile converts, coming from backgrounds influenced by Greek philosophy, wanted instruction in a lifestyle of material detachment and personal self-control. Such teachings were in fact an important part of the early Gospel message, which encouraged disciples to avoid attachments in order to be able to recognize the arrival of God’s kingdom; signs of it were easy to miss amid the distractions of wealth, power or social status. Luke thus synthesizes Jewish expectations with gentile aspirations, encouraging his audience to use end-times prophecies to develop the kind of wise living that gentiles sought.

Essential to that synthesis is the realization that everything is temporary. Christ’s return, however delayed, is still a reality, and it will transform everything. Material goods, social realities and even human relationships are thus entirely provisional. After Christ’s return, prosperity will no longer consist in wealth, power and pleasure but rather in love, service and joy. Live now, Jesus commands, so as to be rich then.

Service to others is the labour that builds up this treasure, as the parables in this Sunday’s reading illustrate. Vigilant attention to duty will result in a surprising reversal, in which the servants become the guests. With this insight, Luke makes Jesus’ feeding of the multitude (9:12-17) a foreshadowing of the kingdom to come. By contrast, a disciple whose attention grows slack may lose everything at the arrival of Christ. Even worse is the highly placed disciple who loses faith. As a commitment to diligent service gives way to ego, gluttony and violence, the disciple earns only future condemnation. For this servant, the arrival of Christ will result not in a feast but in punishment.

Luke’s synthesis reminds us that everything we have is temporary and that we will have to account for ourselves when we meet Christ. A disciple’s path, then, is to take what God has given and use it for humble service. The servant who thus lives a life of material detachment and care for others will flourish at the Lord’s return.

This article also appeared in print, under the headline "Everything we have is temporary," in the August 5, 2019 issue of America Magazine.

Lord, teach us to pray

Once Jesus was in a certain place praying, and when he had finished, one of his disciples said, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.’ He said to them, ‘Say this when you pray:

“Father, may your name be held holy,

your kingdom come;

give us each day our daily bread,

and forgive us our sins,

for we ourselves forgive each one who is in debt to us.

And do not put us to the test.”’

Luke 11:1 - 4

As adults none of us wishes to either show or admit our total dependence on others. If it is about our spouses and partners, we use words like shared responsibility, or, working together. However we word it, the research still tells us very plainly that women do most of the housework. I know, I know. The statistics are against us, if not personally, then across the entire male gender in general.  In essence, while we try to avoid such words as dependence, reality suggests that we are, in fact, utterly reliant on someone else filling in the gaps, or coping with everything. OK, perhaps on a good day we could call it co-dependence.

Our children, on the other hand are called dependents for a very good reason. Their welfare, their health, their education, their everything, is channeled through us. It is our responsibility, it is our lot until they start making those decisions, slowly but surely, for themselves. When we have children we become acutely aware of their needs – they need feeding, warmth, a change of clothing, sleep, play, talking to, cuddling, discipline, teaching. Those who lack this acute awareness struggle with the notion of parenting and more often than not require support. And let’s be realistic: it is not uncommon in many communities.

Luke (11:1 – 13) introduces his notion of dependence when Jesus teaches his disciples to pray. We call it the Lord’s Prayer. More appropriately it should be called Our Prayer. In this prayer, God, addressed as Father, is approached as the giver of grace and mercy. Our spiritual and physical health is dependent upon his unrestricted, unconditional generosity. We are already most favoured, we are his children. He is utterly and totally aware of what we need, and Jesus tells us, Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.

This is not a dependency that requires no action from us. No. Each day we must forgive our neighbours their debts, we must keep his name holy and ultimately assist in the building of his kingdom, for his will must be done. This prayer also becomes an indicator of the presence of the kingdom among us: we pray we will be nourished by his daily bread (in the sense of the Eucharist, as well as both spiritual and physical nourishment, and as participation in a divine, heavenly banquet begun now in the present and to be completed in the eternal kingdom).

Paul, in writing to the Colossians (2:14), succinctly expresses our dependence on God: He has overridden the Law, and cancelled every record of the debt that we had to pay; he has done away with it by nailing it to the cross.

None of us needs to be carried from birth into the next life. Even dependents have obligations: to be thankful, to be cooperative, to acknowledge the work done for and on their behalf, to contribute, to encourage and to fortify the efforts made. But helpless dependency must end. It too must be nailed to the cross. Each of us needs to carry our own weight.

Peter Douglas

 

Latin is not just for encyclicals. For all Catholics, it is our living history.

by Grace Spiewak

19 July 2019

The Catholic Church often faces the perception that it cannot adequately respond to the social issues of our modern age. For example, the Congregation for Catholic Education’s recent document “Male and Female He Created Them,” with its aversion toward the field of gender studies, perpetuates the idea that the church has outdated views on L.G.B.T. issues. Some also call the church misogynistic for its exclusion of women from the priesthood. Many of these critics say the use of Latin is another outdated tradition, a symbol of resistance to modernity.

On the contrary. Severing our Latin roots may only further confuse and divide us. To demonstrate the relevance of Catholicism today, the church should celebrate the Latin language and its significance in our history.

The decline of the Latin Mass, as well as the disappearance of Latin and ancient Greek in education, seems to reflect the belief that classical languages no longer have a purpose for us. We forget the influence of Latin and Greek on leaders across the centuries, from St. Ignatius Loyola to Jane Addams. Far from stifling or limiting their ideas, their knowledge of Latin helped reinforce core values of self-motivation, communication and originality. The discipline of studying ancient languages translates to a zeal for learning overall, as well as a dedication to the improvement of the self and the world. These are among the reasons the church adopted Latin as an official language, and the work of scholars in the church over many centuries proves its effectiveness.

And even as Latin Masses become less common, there is an enduring appreciation for the ancient language. In his apostolic letter “Latina Lingua,” published in 2012, Pope Benedict XVI notes that “the church has spoken and prayed in the languages of all peoples since Pentecost” but adds that liturgical books and Vatican communications are written in the Latin of early Christian communities, “precisely in order to highlight the church’s universal character.” Pointing to a “renewed interest” in the language because of its value in science and technology, Benedict established the Pontifical Academy for Latin to promote the study of the language.

In June, Vatican Radio began broadcasting a weekly bulletin in Latin titled “Hebdomada Papae” (“The Pope’s Week in Review”). In the announcement of the program, Vatican Radio’s editorial director, Andrea Tornielli, described it as a way to bring new life to the language. “We did not conceive it with a nostalgic look to the past but as a challenge for the future,” he said. Meanwhile, Pope Francis’ popular Twitter account has a Latin version with 914,000 followers, a notable increase from its 100,000 followers in 2013.

We may still be few in number, but some of us see Latin as a way to grow within our faith. Latin’s absence from everyday speech gives a sense of specialness when it is read, heard or spoken. It offers relief from the superficial talk that swarms our daily lives.

When using a foreign language, one must be more intentional since the words do not come naturally. But this is fitting for a global religion: Latin is not the native language of any one people and thus offers an equal opportunity for all to share in its learning.

Even as a long-term student of Latin, I cannot use it colloquially. Reading a Latin prayer challenges me to examine every word and elevate my comprehension of the phrases I have heard since childhood. I usually make the sign of the cross with a mechanical muscle memory akin to scribbling my signature. But when I recite in Latin—In nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritus Sancti—I slow my gestures and consider the brief phrase that envelops the greatest mystery of my Catholic faith. Latin does not create the Miracle of the Trinity, but it reminds me of it in a way that English cannot.

Does using a language unfamiliar to most of the Catholic community discriminate against certain populations? Remember that women, slaves and prostitutes in the ancient city of Rome spoke at least simple Latin, using the same language that Cicero and Caesar did. Promoting the use of Latin—in Masses, publications and prayers—can foster pride in the church, reminding us of our unique and complicated history. It allows people of all cultures and classes to connect not only with the roots of the church but with the vast population who have spoken the language throughout time.

Offering only Latin Masses would not serve the needs of Catholics today. But incorporating Latin prayers and phrases into everyday spirituality and catechesis can revitalize the striving for holiness and for service to others. It presents an opportunity to interlace our prayer lives with the scores of people who have come before us.

In Horace’s Satire 1, he writes sed quod eram narro, or “rather, I said who I was.” Similarly, the Catholic Church can say what it is without fear of being seen as antiquated. Latin prayers, songs and writing can refresh a wilting pride for Catholicism’s past and present. Latin can help the church declare in honesty what it was, what it is and what it wants to be.

Published in America 19 July 2019.