The price of disordered leisure

Two recent and seemingly unrelated news stories are of interest to Catholic ecologists. Their intersection speaks to a host of issues related to peace, love, and seeking both through far too much consumption.

First is the news of Pope Francis’s words on the topic of leisure. A story by the New York Times about the soon-to-be-published book “Pope Francis: His Life in His Own Words” (Putnam; $24.95), draws attention to a compilation of interviews of then Cardinal Bergoglio. In it, he speaks about the human need to rest.

Responding to the question, “Do we need to rediscover the meaning of leisure?” Pope Francis replies: “Together with a culture of work, there must be a culture of leisure as gratification. To put it another way: people who work must take the time to relax, to be with their families, to enjoy themselves, read, listen to music, play a sport. But this is being destroyed, in large part, by the elimination of the Sabbath rest day. More and more people work on Sundays as a consequence of the competitiveness imposed by a consumer society.” In such cases, he concludes, “work ends up dehumanizing people.”

The second story is about a local issue in Goa, India. I’ve written elsewhere about how this Indian state struggles with mining but here we find another tension between nature and business. According to The Hindu, an island community in Goa is under pressure to be developed as an upscale tropical resort. The story notes that the island

Vanxim has about 120 houses with a population of 500 to 600. Fishing is the only source of livelihood. In 2006, much of the 800,000 sq meter island was bought by a private dealer and sold to a builders’ group that was eyeing this picturesque island to convert it into a resort. The residents are deeply divided over this controversial project and the issue has been hanging fire since then.

A former panchayat member, Manuvel Furtado, says that they want firm assurances that the resort will be constructed on the barren land only and none of the houses and other structures will be affected and none will be evacuated. The group opposing the move argues that the deal is illegal because the water bodies cannot be bought and nor can the mangroves be cut.

The developers have brought out a booklet wherein they quote a resolution of Sao Mathias Gram Panchayat, under which Vanxim comes, recommending an eco tourism project. The resort promoters have promised to develop infrastructure for basic needs, generate employment by tapping the local talent and has also assured that existing homes have not been acquired and no one will be evacuated. But there is an air of mistrust. In the nearby Divar Island, where the Divaaya resort hotel was constructed some years back, people say that the owners sold their land following an assurance that a spice garden and ponds for fishing would be developed there to generate employment for the local people. However, the promoters went back on their promise apart from employing some locals at the resort. Perhaps, Divar’s experience has made Vanxim’s residents edgy about the offer.

For the Catholic ecologist, the words of Pope Francis speak to the worries over Vanxim’s future because far too many of us in the developed world overdo and corrupt the concept of leisure.

Hyper-consumption is a curse rooted in Western thought and practice. A great many resources go to vacation homes that are rather large, resorts that are rather decadent, and cruises that are rather messy.

And all this is in the name of finding bliss on earth.

St. Augustine famously noted that “our hearts are restless until they rest in thee, O Lord.” This restlessness is of course the human desire to seek God. It is the natural orientation to reclaim Eden—to find the new heavens and the new earth that St. John prophesizes and Christianity proclaims. The human urge to rest in the beauty of nature is an echo of our natural desire to join creation—and in so doing to rightly give Him praise.

None of this is bad in itself. Indeed, it is innately human. But sin disorders this quest—these urges—much as it disorders sexual desires.

Nothing of this earth can quench our true thirst to rest. True rest comes only in and from the presence of God. As Pope Francis noted in his homily at the Confirmation of some two dozen youths last Sunday,

[t]he new things of God are not like the novelties of this world, all of which are temporary; they come and go, and we keep looking for more. The new things which God gives to our lives are lasting, not only in the future, when we will be with him, but today as well.

And so as we consider our holiday plans, perhaps we should consider that our quest for the things that last doesn't require extensive international air travel—that the things of God can be found more readily outside of artificial communities, which swallow large volumes of resources from the areas in which they reside.

Certainly, much can be said about the economic benefits of the travel and leisure industry—especially the jobs it provides to desperately poor people. But much more can be said about authentically building local economies based not on foreigners consuming local resources but on a foundation of authentic enterprise and the dignity of local residents.

As we see in Goa, there is an insatiable need for new and more luxurious locales for restless travelers to find something akin to peace. But true peace comes not by constant exploration of this world—which often comes at a hefty price to ecosystems—but from God's grace, which allows us to build small destinations of the Kingdom of God in the places we call home.

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When Earth Day falls on a Monday

Last year I reflected on the intersection of Earth Day and Sunday. I noted how fitting it was to focus on our life-giving ecosystems on the day when Christians celebrate the victory of love and life over sin and death.

But what significance is there for celebrating Earth Day on a Monday? Quite a bit.

While many Earth Day events were held this weekend and while many of us will be keeping Earth Day somewhat in mind today, it is nevertheless the reality that today is, well, Monday. And Monday’s are often the day we return to work and to the busy routines of the week.

But if we are to truly make every day Earth Day—if we are, as Benedict XVI had once said, to change our “inner attitudes” to be better users and tenders of God’s creation—then what we do on Mondays, Tuesdays, and so on is just as important as those moments on transcendence during Earth Day cleanups, rallies, and tree plantings.

My friend Robert Baxter wrote a great little book, “The Sunday/Monday Paradox.” He has spent many years in the corporate business world. His book applies his experiences and observations about the way we work with the message of the Gospel. It turns out that those who live by the Gospel and maintain a graced, sacramental relationship with God are often better, team-oriented workers that make organizations excel. It also turns out that many of us keep the lessons and grace of our Sunday sacramental worship confined to that day.

In seeing Monday and the rest of the work week as offering their own encounters with God—and in acknowledging what that requires of us—we become disciples of Christ even when we’re not in Church. And that simple rethinking of our lives can change businesses and the world.

“The deterioration of nature is in fact closely connected to the culture that shapes human coexistence,” wrote Benedict XVI in Caritas in Veritate. He went on that “when ‘human ecology’ is respected within society, environmental ecology also benefits. Just as human virtues are interrelated, such that the weakening of one places others at risk, so the ecological system is based on respect for a plan that affects both the health of society and its good relationship with nature."

The pontiff continued with these essential thoughts (with all emphasis original): 

In order to protect nature, it is not enough to intervene with economic incentives or deterrents; not even an apposite education is sufficient. These are important steps, but the decisive issue is the overall moral tenor of society. If there is a lack of respect for the right to life and to a natural death, if human conception, gestation and birth are made artificial, if human embryos are sacrificed to research, the conscience of society ends up losing the concept of human ecology and, along with it, that of environmental ecology. It is contradictory to insist that future generations respect the natural environment when our educational systems and laws do not help them to respect themselves. The book of nature is one and indivisible: it takes in not only the environment but also life, sexuality, marriage, the family, social relations: in a word, integral human development. Our duties towards the environment are linked to our duties towards the human person, considered in himself and in relation to others. It would be wrong to uphold one set of duties while trampling on the other. Herein lies a grave contradiction in our mentality and practice today: one which demeans the person, disrupts the environment and damages society.

And so the challenge before us in the matter of ecological protection is the same we hold in all matters of morality and faith: giving our entire lives to Christ and living His truths every day. This is not some simple platitude that sounds fitting for an Earth Day blog posting—it is a necessary reality if we are to slow the present and rapid global ecological decline.

The work of ecologists, then, is first the changing of hearts. Our task is the offering of Christ into the everyday. It is the reorientation of the human heart toward a culture of temperance, peace, and life rather than of consumption and conflict—which both slowly kill the world, one soul and one ecosystem at a time.

May our Earth Day Monday make us mindful of this truth: that only in rooting our everyday decisions in Christ will we see the elevation of who we are and what we do. After all, it is He who takes away the sins of the world. All we need do is keep Him close by every day and hour of the week.

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An introduction to the Franciscan Action Network

Thank you Patrick Carolan, executive director of the Franciscan Action Network, for bringing a fine Catholic perspective to a conference held last night by Rhode Island Interfaith Power and Light.

The gathering at the stately old “Casino” at Providence’s Roger Williams Park provided an opportunity for many faiths to share their perspectives on creation—and how to protect it. Patrick’s wonderful witness on the orthodox Catholic perspective of ecology was much appreciated, especially by me—the past president of RI IPL—because at last year’s conference the keynote speaker launched into a clichéd and errant attack on Catholicism’s history of ecological insights.

Meeting Patrick allowed me to learn a great deal about the Franciscan Action Network, especially their eco-efforts. (The group is involved in a great many issues related to Franciscan mission and spirituality.)

To better appreciate the group and its work, here’s a section of their discussion on climate change by a network researcher, Ríobart É. Breen, SFO Ph.D.: 

Franciscans have had a centuries-old tradition of explicitly integrating science, and using science as a means of exploring and coming to know our created world.  Knowing the science of ecology helps us to read the Book of Creation, and to know the Creator.  Franciscans also emphasize haeccitas or “thisness,” the unique specialness of each particular living and nonliving thing, loved individually and particularly by God. Every person, every tree, every pond, and every member of every species is uniquely special, is uniquely known and loved by God, and is uniquely imbued with the presence of God.  Integrating Climate Change science into our considerations is essential for Franciscans, as is an understanding of the impacts of Climate Change on every individual creature that is part of the ecosocial system.

Perhaps the most important Franciscan aspect for Climate Change is the Franciscan conversion process.  Franciscan penance is a person’s process of conversion or transformation that results in ametanoia, or new way of seeing.  This metanoia results in a new way of being, and a new way of living in right relationships in the world.  This Franciscan conversion process is a deepening cycle; by changing the way a person sees Climate Change, there is a change in personal and community lifestyle that reduces Climate Change impacts, which in turn further changes the way the person sees Climate Change.  This Franciscan conversion or transformation process attunes the person and the community to the presence of God in Creation, and brings people into a more intimate relationship with God. 

There is a lot in those two paragraphs. Much of it reverberates with the current pontiff and his successors. Indeed, the process of conversion is very much a penitential transformation that has as its ultimate goal a right relation with creation and “more intimate relationship with God.” And that is precisely the equation that will bring about more sustainable lifestyles, a well-tended planet, and souls who seek first the Kingdom of God.

So spend some time at the Franciscan Action Network webpage—there is a lot to peruse!—and in the meantime, we pray for Patrick as he heads off to Rome for a meeting of other Franciscan leaders involved in issues of justice, peace, and ecological protection.

Stay tuned for his reflections on that trip and its gatherings when he returns.

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Divine mercy: Forgiving those who doubt

Photo: Flicker/Mazur-catholicchurch.org.uk

Today, Divine Mercy Sunday, we should consider the place of mercy in environmental science and advocacy.  

Many of us who accept, for instance, that the climate is changing—that science overwhelmingly shows that this is the case and that man’s activity is a substantial cause—have been questioned, sometimes rather rashly, by climate-change critics. Our characters and loyalties are called into question and our intelligence lampooned. I’ve experienced something like this in the comments on this blog and in other publications—such as an essay about ecology in Catholic World Report and one about energy.

It’s also been my experience that when scientists, planners, and policy makers discuss climate change (and other eco-issues), they often consider how to change the minds of skeptics but they don’t speak of how to love them.

As Catholics know, today’s feast was decreed by Pope John Paul II in May 2000 after decades of growing devotion to the visions, writings, and images of the Polish nun (and now saint) Faustina Kowalska. Her visions were of Christ’s desire for all souls to know His mercy. Faustina wrote that Christ communicated to her that 

My mercy is so great that no mind, be it of man or of angel, will be able to fathom it throughout all eternity. Everything that exists has come forth from the very depths of My most tender mercy. Every soul in its relation to Me will I contemplate My love and mercy throughout eternity.

Photo: Flicker/Mazur-catholicchurch.org.uk

Faustina had an uphill climb to convince others of this personal revelation. But her visions could not be contained nor her sincerity questioned. And the Lord’s mercy could not be ignored. Today, divine mercy is celebrated with a unique feast that closes the great Octave of Easter. 

Of course, the mercy of God is at the core of apostolic revelation. From Genesis chapter three (when God relents on his warning that “you will surely die” for touching the fruit in the center of the garden), throughout the history of the Nation of Israel, to the very incarnation and crucifixion of Christ, to the coming of the Spirit, and to the forgiving of sins in the life of the Church, God’s underserved mercy has showered onto us sinners—we who so desperately need it.

In the Lord’s Prayer, we are asked to seek God's mercy by connecting this petition to our own forgiveness of others.

 ... and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

There is, of course, a place for all this among you and I who—in this particularly crucial and dangerous time—champion a better relation with the natural order of things. In large part because of our age of hyper-technology, the gluttony of man—our desires, appetites and, as we hear at Mass, “disordered affections”—now threatens global ecosystems with ruin. The next few decades will be times of important choices if we hope to leave for future generations a planet that looks and works pretty much like the one humanity has known from the beginning.

Thus the consequences of not changing our ways are frightening and the changes required to avert them are daunting. Confounding matters is that changing our ways for the good of the planet’s life-offering ecosystems has been an issue voiced at length (for various reasons) by the political left. This has turned a scientific discussion into an ideological one.

And so out of fear of what seems so difficult and out of dislike for political ideologies that—besides championing the environment—champion issues like abortion and same-sex marriage, some of our brothers and sisters push back when they hear the prophetic warnings of ecologists. Such doubters are, like all humans at times, a bit like Thomas, who doubted the words of his friends when they spoke of the return of the Lord of life. But our Lord loved Thomas nonetheless—and He provided all the empirical evidence that Thomas required.

And therein lies the lesson for us: to love and teach those who doubt.

I know firsthand that the words and taunting of those who doubt issues like anthropogenic climate change can rouse a desire to strike back—to demean those who demean us and diminish those who diminish objective observational data. Some of us may even gloat (oddly enough) when current events prove our points.

But we cannot succumb to such temptations.

Catholic ecologists should be well aware that our ancient enemy looks for any means to create division and discord—especially when the stakes are high. Seeking unity must be one of our goals and the chief means to achieve this is love.

It is not enough to present people with graphs and photos of flooded neighborhoods if we do not love. Indeed, we cannot champion life if we refuse to first love.

As St. Paul teaches us in 1 Corinthians, 

if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing  [...] 

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, [love] is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

 Love never fails.

If there are prophecies, they will be brought to nothing; if tongues, they will cease; if knowledge, it will be brought to nothing. For we know partially and we prophesy partially, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. 

When I was a child, I used to talk as a child, think as a child, reason as a child; when I became a man, I put aside childish things. At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face. At present I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known. So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:2-13)

One might ask, then, is love the greatest of our motivations? I don't know that it is for me. This requires serious thought, because we may hasten ecological destruction if we don't present truth with certainty and love—if we do not forgive when at first we are doubted, or worse. As Christ has taught us (and Benedict XVI reminded us), truth and love must never be isolated.

And so, we champions of sound ecologies must commit this Sunday and every day to offer the mercy that we ourselves so desperately need. Let us bring with us the gospel of forgiveness as we prophesize about the harm in violating God’s laws. Let us resist despair, anger, and gloating. For in the end, we will build up the good of our neighbors and of all creation—and help save souls, including our own—if we truly love and forgive those who trespass against us.

Catholic Ecology Home.

The eighth anniversary

 "The complexity of the ecological question is evident to all. There are, however, certain underlying principles, which, while respecting the legitimate autonomy and the specific competence of those involved, can direct research towards adequate and lasting solutions. These principles are essential to the building of a peaceful society; no peaceful society can afford to neglect either respect for life or the fact that there is an integrity to creation."  Bl. John Paul II. 1990 Message for the World Day of Peace.

In this paragraph, John Paul II made the life-ecology-humanity connection that is summed up in his term "human ecology." These are concepts that Benedict XVI carried in full form and that Pope Francis will expand and exhort in his own way.

As we close this eighth anniversary of the death of Bl. John Paul II, there is very little that can be added to the reams that have been written and said about him, so I will not carry on. The video tribute below by YouTuber Penn BC will do that for me.

Suffice to say Catholic ecologists owe much to him, his work, and to the Holy Spirit, who gave us such a wise, loving, and powerful pontiff.

May Bl. John Paul II pray for us.

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Easter's truth: "there are no situations which God cannot change"

As usual, my very gifted pastor hit a grand slam in his homily at this year's Easter Vigil. The Holy Spirit was certainly rushing through the parish and most especially in an inspired sermon about Christ’s love—His Way, Truth, and Life—that removes the stones that block all of us at one time or another.

His homily aligned beautifully with points made by the Holy Father earlier in his own homily:

Jesus no longer belongs to the past, but lives in the present and is projected towards the future; he is the everlasting “today” of God. This is how the newness of God appears to the women, the disciples and all of us: as victory over sin, evil and death, over everything that crushes life and makes it seem less human. And this is a message meant for me and for you, dear sister, dear brother. How often does Love have to tell us: Why do you look for the living among the dead? Our daily problems and worries can wrap us up in ourselves, in sadness and bitterness… and that is where death is. That is not the place to look for the One who is alive!

And so, I offer this Easter posting that is directed at all who seek to protect the natural world from man’s overreaching, gluttonous grasp. The victories we seek (and that we must ensure) will come only through Christ, with Christ, and in Christ—the Resurrected One who lives anew always because He is the source of Life.  

As we embark in the Easter Season during the Year of Faith—a time when the harm done to our natural environment is accelerating—let us put our faith in Christ, His Church, His grace, and, then, each other.

As Pope Francis preached : 

Dear brothers and sisters, let us not be closed to the newness that God wants to bring into our lives! Are we often weary, disheartened and sad? Do we feel weighed down by our sins? Do we think that we won’t be able to cope? Let us not close our hearts, let us not lose confidence, let us never give up: there are no situations which God cannot change, there is no sin which he cannot forgive if only we open ourselves to him.

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Good Friday and the reality of regret

Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when he was made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him. (Hebrews 5:8-9)

I missed a much-anticipated opportunity today. This made me think of the opportunities to protect the created order that you and I could miss at this critical time in human history.

His Eminence Sean Cardinal O’Malley had invited members of the Equestrian Order of the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem, of which I am invested, to attend Good Friday services at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Boston. I was ready to go but family obligations gave me a late start and traffic congestion added another forty minutes to the journey. In hindsight, I should have anticipated both.

I turned back about twenty minutes after I should have arrived because I still had another twenty or thirty or however many more minutes left. And one does not arrive that late to such liturgies.

I could have planned better. But I didn’t and a wonderful opportunity was missed.

Regret is fitting for Good Friday. And so I thanked God at my own parish services tonight for the opportunity to experience a little uncorrectable, humiliating remorse. In doing so, it helped me spiritually connect with the Passion of Our Lord, who suffered infinite loss, shame, and agony so that payment of an eternal dept could be made—so that the cosmos could balance its juridical scales and allow us safe passage to freedom from sin and death.

In comparison, my despair was infinitesimal. But my regret made me consider what could be terrible regret if those of us alive today do not plan better, live simpler, love more profoundly, and heed the warnings of the modern prophets—those who speak of spiritual hunger and those who speak of accelerating earthly devastation.

There is a (not as famous as it should be) painting of Good Friday that peers into the events of Christ’s Passion from an unusual but appropriate angle. “The Return from Calvary” by Herbert Schmaltz (1856-1935) depicts a devastated Mary supported by her son’s disciples as they walk home. Some look back over Jerusalem towards Calvary as the sun sets behind it. Their postures and expressions indicate grim, confused anguish. They are stunned at the day’s sequence of events. They seem to be wondering what they could have done differently to have had the sun set on different circumstances.

This Good Friday—and the daylight of Holy Saturday—should be a time to ponder the reality of regret. For Catholic ecologists, it should be especially a time to think well of the losses that are at this moment in our power to prevent.

Here, of course, my analogy ends: The crucifixion of Christ comes with theological realities related to salvation. There is nothing that the disciples could have done to prevent the cup of sacrifice being given to Christ by His Father in Heaven.

But in our own lives, free will gives us choices. It allows us to steer our paths to one end or another—or at least try. This is especially so for our work in environmental protection. More accurately, this is especially true in how we live our lives and how close we stay to the grace that poured forth from that Cross. In choosing life and God’s grace (and only in doing so), we can end our days with far less regret than we might see without choosing wisely.

Christ’s death brought salvation. Death and extinction within nature’s tapestry of life, however, will bring us—and every generation after us—only judgment and suffering.

Let us, then, lift high the Cross and ponder its message. Let us pray in earnest so that, by the grace of God, we can act with renewed fervor for the protection of creation—the natural order that God has given to us to use wisely and nurture.

Let our personal and cultural sins not have the last word in how we plan our days, weeks, and the years ahead.

Catholic Ecology Home.

Holy Thursday and the "pro-creation" eucharistic Church

A Washington Post guest commentary by Christiana Z. Peppard, Ph.D lauds the laudable eco-comments by Pope Francis. In doing so, she seems to miss the point about the Eucharist—the core of the Catholic faith—and what it means for you and me.

Given that I write this on Holy Thursday—and I’ve just come from the Mass of the Lord’s Supper (and a few churches on the way home to stop in and pray a bit)—I’d like to respond to Dr. Peppard in hopes that  she is not making the mistake that many others seem to be making in these early days of the pontificate of Pope Francis.

Dr. Peppard, an Assistant Professor of Theology, Science and Ethics at Fordham University,  applauds Pope Francis for his early and direct mentioning of caring for the poor and environmental protection. But Pope Francis isn’t the first pope to make such statements. His two predecessors have quite the eco-record and have made at least a handful of statements about confronting poverty. But there are more than words at play here. Like many others, Dr. Peppard’s excitement is heightened by the pontiff’s public actions, which are profoundly moving.

She writes: 

Certainly, the Bible is rife with injunctions to care for the poor, and Catholic social teaching insists on the theological and ethical imperative known as the “preferential option for the poor.” But has any pope ever talked the talk while walking the walk? Enter Francis, who has decided to not live in the papal apartment (he will live in the Vatican guesthouse), who has eschewed highly filigreed garments, and who has constantly spoken of humility and poverty. Might this papacy be less about pontifical pomp and theological rhetoric than about attention to concrete circumstance? That would be theology as praxis: where the word of God hits the ground, and keeps walking.

 She continues, 

[I]t’s not enormously surprising that at his first press conference, Pope Francis mused, “These days we do not have a very good relationship with creation, do we?”

No, we don’t—neither as an economically-driven global society, nor as a Catholic institution. Sure, Vatican City pledged to become the first carbon-neutral country; but first-world folks in pews, especially in the United States, are unused to heeding this message.

Yet Francis inherits a legacy of Catholic social teaching that links economic globalization, environmental degradation, and poverty. Even the recondite Benedict XVI wrote about environmental degradation and its deleterious impacts on the lives of the poor. Along with the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, he considered access to clean air and fresh water as “right-to-life issues.” Moreover, he insisted that commodification of such essential “goods of creation” is unjust. Here’s the upshot: In the 21st century, papal pro-creation involves the preferential option for the poor and a critique of excessive pursuit of profit. There is a strong set of Catholic teaching in which the rhetoric of pro-creation is not reducible to the prohibition of prophylaxis.

As it turns out, these social and economic teachings have existed since the 1960s, though they are often minimized or referred to as the church’s best-kept secrets—especially in the United States. Think about it: When was the last time you heard a Catholic invoke the “right to life”—and proceed to expound on the importance of clean, fresh water? (Well, never.)

Never? Not at all? Not by, oh, Pope Benedict, as in the quote from Caritas in Veritate that tops this blog, or in other statements, like this one, this one, or this one?  Not by the United States bishops, who list the environment as a human life issue? Not by a host of dioceses, parishes, and everyday practicing Catholics? Not by saints from centuries past?

Moreover, is it accurate to say that “first-world folks in pews, especially in the United States, are unused to heeding this message” [of environmental protection]? We are?

In fairness, Dr. Peppard notes that the Church possesses “a legacy of Catholic social teaching that links economic globalization, environmental degradation, and poverty.” I would emphasize this. The Church has been pro-creation throughout its history—from fighting heresies like Marcionism (which rejected Hebrew Scriptures and thus the revelation of God’s creation as being “very good”) and Gnosticism (which considered the created world as evil), as well as their modern forms.

Paramount in this discussion is, of course, the Eucharist. It is this “sacrament most holy” that, through the actions of a priest, transubstantiate bread and wine—and all the earth, water, and sunlight that allows wheat and grapes to become bread and wine—into the Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior. Indeed, the entire liturgy of the Mass (especially the Mass of the Lord’s Supper) is rooted in the mingling of natural events, material reality, and supernatural will. It is for this reason—this sacramental nature of the Church—that Catholics throughout the centuries have taken seriously the dignity of the created order.

It is not until recently—at least in ecclesial terms—that man’s activity has become a global threat to the created order. As chronicled in this blog and elsewhere, the Church has responded accordingly. And as Pope Francis shows us, the Church will continue to do so in ways that we can only imagine.

But for voices like Dr. Peppard (and she is most certainly not alone), Francis seems like a rupture in Church history. She even wonders if this new pope will be “revolutionary.”

Let’s be clear: Francis is not a revolutionary. He is not ushering in a new Church. Rather, he’s living eternal Church teachings in his own vibrant, loving way—one that makes for much more accessible visuals in this age of visual news. In this regard, he far outdoes Benedict XVI and even gives a youthful Bl. John Paul II a run for his money.

I would describe the differences between Pope Francis and the pope emeritus this way: Pope Benedict very often stressed the Liturgy of the Altar and the sacramental grace of God as a means to “love in the present,” as he wrote in an early doctoral work. Pope Francis presupposes sacramental grace to stress and encourage the vital liturgies of charity performed by both priests and laity in the everyday world. Certainly, neither Pope Francis nor Benedict XVI would deny the existence of and the need for both sacramental grace and the human response to it.

Indeed, the Sacrifices at the Altar are meant for the people, who in turn go in to the world to transform the world, and thus protect it. From the Last Supper onward, Christians have known that it is God’s grace that makes possible the work of the Church. But in modern times, many people (even some Catholics) assume that we can go into the world to transform it without this grace—that one does not need “theological rhetoric” to right wrongs, feed the poor, and clean up Superfund sites.

For well-meaning voices like Dr. Peppard, I would caution that Pope Benedict and Pope Francis are, as the latter noted when they met at Castle Gandolfo, brothers. They may emphasize different elements of what it means to be Catholic, but they do not dismiss the fullness of Catholic sacramental theology.

These brothers both know that without the Eucharist, there is no hope of overcoming the ills of the age.

In other words, they both know that we need a proper understanding of theological language and logic—of study and exhortations—if we are to be authentically a people in proper relation to the altar. Otherwise, we will fail to adequately (if at all) confront the evils of the age—like poverty, ecosystem destruction, cultural greed, loneliness, despair, and all forms of violence against human dignity, most especially abortion.

I understand why Pope Francis excites so many people (like me). But I also understand that at his heart, he, like his predecessors, is a priest of Jesus Christ—men who we pray for and thank this Holy Thursday. For without them, the world would have no access to the Sacrament of Charity—our Lord and God—Who alone takes away the sins of the world.

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Pope Francis on patience

The Holy Father’s homily on Monday in the small chapel of the Casa Santa Marta (which, it seems, will be his home for some time rather than the papal apartments) struck me because of its theme—one that needs repeating in the world of environmental protection, especially during these most important days of Holy Week.

Here’s what Vatican Radio reported about the words of Pope Francis:

[The pope] said “The emblem of the infinite patience that God has for man is reflected in the infinite patience that Jesus has for Judas.”

Pope Francis was inspired by the scene of today's Gospel, in which Judas criticizes Mary, sister of Lazarus, for anointing Jesus' feet with three hundred grams of precious perfume: it would be better - says Judas – to sell it and give the proceeds to the poor. John noted in the Gospel that Judas was not interested in the poor, but in stealing the money.

Yet, Pope Francis said, "Jesus did not say: 'You are a thief.’” Instead “he was patient with Judas,” trying to draw him closer through patience, his love. During Holy Week, we would do well to think of the patience of God, the patience that God has with each one of us, with our weaknesses, our sins.

"The patience of God is a mystery!" Pope Francis said. "How much patience he has with us! We do so many things, but He is patient.”

The Holy Father likened him to the father in the Gospel, who "saw his son from afar, the son who had left him with all of his inheritance." And why, the Pope asked, did he see him from afar? "Because every day he went out to see if his child would return." This, Pope Francis affirmed, "is God's patience, this is the patience of Jesus." 

He concluded: "Let us think of our personal relationship, in this week: How patient has Jesus been with me in my life? Just this. And then the words will rise from our hearts: 'Thank you, Lord! Thank you for your patience."

These words haunt me because in the world of ecological protection there is often a great deal of impatience, personal attacks, and character assassination. Such vice has no place among disciples of Christ who seek to care for creation. Indeed, caring for creation cannot occur unless we first care for our brothers and sisters—even when they disagree with us.

My recent piece about energy in Catholic World Report resulted in discouraging comments by those who are convinced that the science of climate change is a scam—or worse. But then, I have known colleagues to say unkind words about the “crazies” that question the science of climate change.

This back and forth is unhelpful. And it is very often unchristian.

And so in Holy Week, we ecologists who proclaim Christ Crucified and Risen have this task: to double our efforts to love those that disagree with us—those who refuse to accept what science is showing us about man’s impacts on the created order. Just as Christ has patience with us, the Holy Father reminds us, so we must have patience with others. This is of course not easy (which is why we need God's grace). 

Still, as our Lord could forgive those who crucified Him, we must attempt to forgive those who attack us, whether personally or professionally. In fact, as Christians, we are called to love them. We are called to offer them again and again a path for dialogue. Patience does not mean accepting and enabling ignorance, fear, or unkind (and unprofessional) words. It means bearing them in love and with the hope of conversion.

Let us then heed the reminder of Pope Francis about the great mercy, love, and patience that God has for us, and let us seek to mirror this love and patience in our encounters with others.

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Connecting through nature's beauty, goodness, and truth

Photo: Flicker/Catholic Church (England and Wales)

When speaking today to representatives of other faiths and Christian confessions, Pope Francis included those who do not belong to “any religious tradition.”

When addressing this latter group, his words sought some connection—some common element. In doing so, he demonstrated the essence of New Evangelization.

Here are his words: 

We know how much violence has been provoked in recent history by the attempt to eliminate God and the divine from the horizon of humanity, and we feel the need to witness in our societies the original openness to transcendence that is inherent in the human heart. In this we feel the closeness also of those men and women who, while not belonging to any religious tradition, feel, however the need to search for the truth, the goodness and the beauty of God, and who are our precious allies in efforts to defend the dignity of man, in the building of a peaceful coexistence between peoples and in the careful protection of creation.

I’ve written often about ecology as a tool for New Evangelization (here, here, and here) because New Evangelization seeks in part to announce the Gospel through existing and trusted channels. And since we all share ecosystems that make up life on Earth, it makes sense that ecology would provide such a point of contact.

Note how the Holy Father acknowledges that men and women with no religious affiliation are nonetheless searchers of truth, goodness, and beauty—those “transcendentals” that, like ecology (which he connects with all this), all humans share and need. In doing so, the pontiff is doing much the same as his predecessor.

In beginning the conversation with truth, goodness, and beauty, one opens a dialogue that can then reverse the order of those transcendent realities. In calling attention to shared understandings of the beauty and goodness of creation, one can then speak of the truths of creation—of natural laws. From there, one might acknowledge that absolute truths exist. One may then be able to speak of a Truth. From there, one might suggest that this Truth is a Person, because this Truth is, ultimately, sacrificial love. And love is never impersonal.

Catholic intellectual and spiritual tradition holds that we can know something of the Creator through studying creation. In speaking to those who do not embrace the Christian creed, the Holy Father first spoke about the very essences of human dignity and the very nature of nature. By simply beginning this conversation, he laid a path for unbelievers to follow, should they wish.

If they do ... well, we’ll see where the conversation goes.

But all this first requires a conversation. And that requires agreement. And who cannot agree that the created world is beautiful, good, and true?

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