I got a call last week on my home answering about our ongoing dialog about the length of Mass. It was supportive of my position, which is that the 11 a.m. liturgy is running too long when it goes past noon. But it was also anonymous, which says a lot about the sensitivity of this issue. I don’t think many people besides me are willing to admit that they have a problem with the length of Mass. Good old Catholic guilt, I suppose. Or maybe it is a sense that it is just not cool to complain about such things at St. Malachi’s.

The point of this caller was that when the Community liturgy goes long, it has a negative impact on people attending the St. Malachi Parish Mass at 12:30 p.m. For example, when the 11 a.m. Mass runs long, Community people are still kibitzing in the church when early-arrivers for the 12:30 liturgy want to pray. Plus it makes it tough to find parking.

It was noted here by one of the writers that the time of that Mass had been pushed back from 12:15 to 12:30. But the writer had the mistaken impression that this was to allow the Community more time for its liturgy. The main reason for the change was, even when we were finishing the 11 a.m. liturgy 10 minutes before noon, it was disruptive to the people attending the later Mass.

This is one more thing for the Community to be sensitive to in evaluating our liturgy. Also it might be appropriate to ask people to carry their conversations down to Coffee Hour as quickly as possible after Mass.

It’s recommitment time. To me, one of the things that separates the Community of St. Malachi from so many other parishes is our emphasis on action. This is not just a place to come to Mass and put an envelope in the basket. Membership in the Community means making a commitment to participate in some way with the ministries, committees or other activities. Lately a popular catch phrase in church circles is "time, talent and treasure." But in many parishes, you get the distinct impression they are much more interested in the treasure part than in time and talent. Here it is quite the other way around.

And if you feel the committee chairs or other key people aren’t responding to you, feel free to make a pest of yourself.

One committee where we definitely need help is Communications. Specifically we need writers for Communio. If you’ve been reading this publication, you know that just about anything goes, as long as it relates to the Community in the context of faith. We wouldn’t mind getting more humorous articles. But something we really need is people to report on the various speakers who come to town and to Malachi’s, and to correspond from the various committees.

If interested, please check the appropriate lines on the recommitment form, but for faster action call either John Lucic at 216-221-5017, or me at 216-221-5346 (home) or 440-333-9027 (work), or feel free to send E-mail to Alaimo@bigfoot.com, an address that comes to my account with the local Stratos service.

Has anyone been taping "Nothing Sacred"? Because of the changing schedule some folks have missed it lately. Call John or Mary Carol Lucic at 216-221-5017 if you have it.

Got a note from Bill Kessel who is putting our web site together. He writes: "I need the use of a digital still camera to take a few photos of the inside of the church for use on the web site. This would save me the extra steps of using a regular camera, developing the film and prints, scanning the photos, manipulating them in Photoshop, etc. This way, I could just take the photos and put the images directly into my computer and manipulate them. Please contact me at 440-871-0197 or by E-mail at vonk@stratos.net."

One news item from Kay Vine, who is recovering very nicely from her recent surgery: Kay, Gary Pritts and Shair Ali, the father of the Somali refugee family spoke to about 45 people at St. Dominic’s in Shaker Heights on March 4. St. Dominic’s has decided to sponsor a refugee family and this was part of that parish’s Lenten program.

Glad to see another installment of "Women and the Word" in this issue — personal and professional demands have kept it away from these pages recently. I know we’ve all missed it. Thanks to Joan Nuth, Frank Schiros, Jeff Leitch, Fr. Tony Schuerger and Cindy DiNardo for sending in material for Communio. A further note of appreciation to everyone who has sent in reprinted articles for me to use and to Joseph Pulizzi for typing some of them in. I have quite a few in reserve, but please keep them coming.

Note that there will be three weeks until the next issue on April 5; deadline March 29.

The God of the Judaeo-Christian tradition is a God rich in compassion and mercy, a God totally immanent, present in and involved with the world of humans. This involvement came to an amazing climax in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, God’s Word, God’s Wisdom incarnate. Through Jesus we come most closely in touch with God’s mercy, compassion and forgiveness. But the God of the Judaeo-Christian tradition is also a God utterly incomprehensible to us, beyond our understanding, a God of absolute transcendence. This aspect of God makes God very mysterious to us. It preserves God’s otherness — warning us against equating God with any one image of our own devising. It is important for us to speak about God using images from our human and earthly experience — otherwise we would not be able to speak of God at all. However, we must always be cautious about equating any of those images with God’s own self. We must always remember that God’s ways are not our ways.

These themes of God’s immanence and transcendence find very clear expression in our first reading today, which recounts God’s call to Moses from the burning bush. One of the ways God made the divine presence felt in Jewish history was through chosen representatives, usually called prophets. In today’s reading Moses receives just such a call. He is the one through whom God will save the Jewish people.

But God’s motivation for sending Moses puts us in touch with the essence of the heart of God, which is compassion. God says, "I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt. I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings. And I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey" (Ex 3:7-8). Here is a poignant expression of God’s compassion. Our God is not a God who desires us to suffer; our God is a God who wants milk and honey for us. If we let it happen, God will supply good things for us.

This compassion at the heart of God is spoken of most commonly in Hebrew through the noun "rahamin," usually translated as "compassion" or "loving kindness" or "mercy." But this word "rahamin" is derived from the noun "rehem", which means "womb" or "uterus." Therefore, wherever God’s compassion is spoken of in scripture, we are put in touch indirectly with a feminine image of God. God’s compassion for us is "womb-like." It is like the love of a mother who can never forget the child of her womb (see Isaiah 49:15 for a direct expression of this idea). One can scarcely image a closer form of love than this. This is the kind of love with which God loves us.

However wonderful and comforting this notion of God may be, we must also remember God’s transcendence. God is not simply compassionate according to our human notions of what compassion means. God and God’s compassion are utterly beyond our understanding. And God’s absolute transcendence is also abundantly present in the story of the burning bush.

First, God’s transcendence is symbolized by the bush itself, which is on fire, yet is not being consumed. Such an image contradicts the laws of nature, indicating God’s difference from earthly reality.

A second indication of God’s transcendence is found in Moses’ reaction to the sight of the burning bush, a classic example of what Rudolph Otto called "the experience of the Holy." On the one hand, Moses is fascinated by and drawn to the mysterious bush: "I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up" (Ex 3:3). But Moses also feels the kind of fear we call awe: "Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God" (Ex 3:6). Moses is both attracted to and repelled by the awesome mystery of God.

The third indication of God’s utter transcendence in this story comes when Moses asks God "what is your name?" God’s response is utterly mysterious. God tells Moses "I am who am — that is my name." I am who am. The first letter of each of these Hebrew words is called the tetragrammaton (the four letters). "I am who am" yields YHWH — Yahweh — the name for God so revered by Jews that they rarely if ever utter it aloud. There are many ways to interpret this mysterious name for God. Let one suffice here. God is the only one who can say "I am who am." All of us need to say, "I am now, but once I was not." God is being itself. To quote Thomas Aquinas reflecting on this topic: God’s essence is God’s existence. God is the absolute, "necessary" being — we are contingent beings — our being depends absolutely upon God.

Now, somewhat paradoxically, an adequate awareness of God’s transcendence is necessary to protect God’s immanence. If we just take the notion of God’s compassion earlier referred, this can become clear. God’s transcendence, God’s difference from us, enables us to realize that God’s compassion for us is beyond anything we know as human compassion — which often has very strict limits. Even a mother’s compassion for her child may be flawed, limited, imperfect. God’s compassion for us simply knows no bounds. Without an adequate awareness of God’s transcendence, God is no longer God — God becomes another earthly reality like everything else earthly — flawed, limited, imperfect.

This somewhat paradoxical inter-penetrating of immanence and transcendence within God can help to explain a bit today’s mysterious gospel reading. Jesus is asked about what must have been two current news stories in his day. There were some Galileans (who would have been Jesus’ own neighbors) who were killed by the Romans, and whose blood Pilate mixed with the blood of sacrificial offerings (Luke 13:1). There were also 18 people killed when a tower fell upon them (Luke 13:4). The assumption of the people around Jesus is that those who met their deaths in such gruesome ways must have been greater sinners than most. If God meted out to them such punishing deaths, they must have sinned greatly to deserve such punishment. Jesus challenges this assumption, which is based too much upon human standards of justice. He suggests that there is a profound mystery to evil. And our feeble ways of trying to understand it are wrong, particularly if that means ascribing greater guilt to those who suffer than we do to ourselves.

Finally he tells the parable of the fig tree that has borne no fruit for three years. The human reaction would be to cut it down — it is useless. But the gardener wants to give the tree more care and another chance. The gardener’s attitude is like that of the God of Jesus. Yet the fact that we have a compassionate God ought not make us presumptuous, thinking that we can simply rely on God’s compassion without any personal accountability. The flip side of receiving comfort and consolation from God is being faithful to our Christian call.

The urgency of hearing and following the Christian message is also emphasized in this gospel — the fig tree is given one more year to be fruitful — one more chance to respond to God’s call. As Robert Karris comments, "Jesus is compassionate but not wishy-washy. He demands that sinners repent before it is too late." The parable of the fig tree is both "a parable of compassion, which produces comfort in the disciple who stumbles along the Christian Way" and "a parable of crisis, which should light a fire under procrastinators and other unproductive disciples" (The New Jerome Biblical Commentary, p. 705).

Which am I? Which are you? The disciple who has stumbled and needs to hear God’s words of compassion? Or the procrastinating, unproductive disciple who needs to be enflamed with zeal for the gospel? Probably all of us have been one or the other at various points in our lives. Discerning where each of us is right now might indicate how we may need to spend this Lent of 1998. The two words are not incompatible, but deeply related. Hearing God’s word of compassion and love for us can only motivate us with the desire to love that God in return by spreading the good news in whatever way we can.

Mexico recently deported a priest for siding with the poverty stricken Indians, along with several other priests who are trying to achieve some measure of social justice for the abused and imposed on lower classes.

Is the American Catholic hierarchy, in particular, doing anything about the plight of lower and middle classes in this country? I believe that they, like our politicians, don’t have a clue, or even care, about what’s happening today or where the situation may lead U.S. citizens. Economic exploitation, as the Mexican Indians will tell us, opens the door to all other forms of exploitation — employment, income, civil rights, family support, housing, environment, medical benefits and, yes, even religion. It all boils down to "everything is connected to everything," whether it has to do with God or country.

Am I yelling like Chicken Little that the sky is falling? Is there any basis in fact for the observation that life is deteriorating for most of the people in the good old USA?

Let me offer some contemporary facts demonstrating how capitalism, perhaps even democracy, has run amok in this country.

In a nation with a population of about 260,000,000, the super rich (about 1% or 2,600,000) earn about 68% of the annual income. The rest of us (99% or 257,400,000) earn the other 32% of annual income. An even more startling fact is that the upper 5% (still plenty rich and about 13,000,000) own 95% of all the nation’s equity, while the rest of us (95% or about 247,000,000 people) own the crumbs of our democratic heritage. The robber barons are loose. The Plain Dealer has been announcing this year that CEOs have increased incomes and bonuses ranging from $9,000,000 to $1,000,000 while at the same time resisting any efforts of organized labor to improve the economic picture for their employees. This means that 12 Americans will earn in a lifetime what one will earn in a year!

On the religious side, to use a metaphor, our hierarchy "fiddles while Rome burns." The archbishop of Los Angeles confers knighthood on people who represent some of the worst repressive economic empires in the country (they shall remain nameless). Both are non-Catholics. One represents a corporation that has a terrible record for sweatshop labor everywhere in the world. The other represents a media empire that consistently censors from the public the news of corporate greed and corruption, but hastens to titillate the public about a president and his personal problems.

Am I simply expressing jealousy because I’m not part of the upper 1% or 5% of a skewed economic picture? (It would be nice if I had the money to buy a 30-foot sailboat.) Am I expressing envy that only 5% of the population is smart enough to earn millions and I’m not? Is there any indication that something has gone wrong in the paradise of milk and honey? Are the streets paved with gold for only those grasping enough not to consider the social consequences?

The bottom half of the middle class is slowly sliding into poverty. It has become a common phenomenon (practically gone unnoticed) that both spouses have to work to make ends meet, while school-age children are left at home to watch TV. Is it any wonder that juvenile delinquency has reached epidemic proportions? Is there any connection between divorce and economic decline. 52% of the families in Lakewood have single parents! The church abhors the divorce, but not the causes. Is there time left to see if the kids are attending Christian Formation? Is Sunday better spent having quiet moments at home than going to mass?

What about the lack of any improvement in real wages in the last 10 years and the increasing tax load that the average citizen has to bear. Is it any wonder that crime and violence have increased and have become nationwide problems?

Why is education in such a miserable state and our children at the bottom of the world heap in mathematics and geography? Why are we one of the least enlightened of the world’s industrialized nations and won’t provide millions of Americans with health coverage when they’re too poor to afford it? Why, Why, Why, WHY?

The answer may lie in the possibility that the Church has subverted the mission of Jesus Christ and prefers the company of Pharisees.

Maybe we also need to deport to Rome the clergy who hob nob with the glitteratti and import some missionaries who have outspoken compassion for the plight of the 95% left out in the cold.

Am I critical of the way the Church promotes the advocacy of the multitude? You bet I am! It is the only power left that can bring peace, justice, prosperity and God to the world.

In the reading we just heard (II Corinthians 5:20 - 6:2), St. Paul implores the Christian Community at Corinth to become ambassadors for Christ.

Today we would imagine an ambassador to be a highly skilled and experienced diplomat sent as the authorized messenger of one country to another to be its in-residence representative.

In contrast, St. Paul tells us that by God’s grace alone we have become his ambassadors when in faith we accepted Christ. At that point we became new creations and began our own personal journeys of faith. For this ambassadorship, skill and experience are unimportant. A pliable heart and a willing spirit are the main pre-requisites. And the message Jesus asks us to take on our journey is both simple and profound. It is one of reconciliation. The word reconcile can be defined as bringing someone or something into harmony or agreement. It’s an active word, not a passive one, that addresses our relationships with others and God Himself. And the real challenge of Christ’s message of reconciliation is that it must be worked out in the nitty-gritty details of the lives of each of us every day.

Last Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, there was a reconciliation story in the Plain Dealer that was of special interest. It described Bishop Pilla’s recovery from heart bypass surgery and then a serious staph infection. Still weak and tired, he talked about the dramatic impact it had made on him — how it had helped him better understand the importance of everyday life, his family and friends — even his own salvation. He admitted that, like most of us, he likes to be in control. And yet he found himself completely helpless and dependent upon others. Despite all his years of education and priesthood, he said he struggled with the same "Why me?" questions any of us would. He concluded that it was one thing to know a theology and another to make it operative in your life.

As we move on into Lent, it occurs to me that the real gift of this liturgical season is that we are continually challenged each time we gather together here at St. Malachi’s. Challenged to re-assess our priorities, to question our choices and attitudes, to examine those relationships that need to be brought into harmony.

The Lenten journey is not an easy one. Because it takes time. Because it makes us uncomfortable. It forces us to be honest with ourselves and to accept ourselves as we are, where we are. Remarkably, despite our imperfections and shortcomings, Jesus still chooses us to be his witnesses, his instruments for change, his ambassadors to a world in desperate need of reconciliation. And that is the joyful Easter message that follows these 40 days of Lent. Through his cross, he chooses us. We need only to respond positively to His call.

As I took in that marvelous gathering, I was reminded of the rich and complex history that led to the founding of the Diocese of Cleveland. I thought of the pioneering work of the Dominican, Edward Dominic Fenwick, who became the first Bishop of Cincinnati in 1822. At the time, his territory covered this area, which was to become the Diocese of Cleveland. With great dedication, Bishop Fenwick undertook arduous journeys through his vast and unsettled territory and, in 1832, died virtually alone in the town of Wooster.

My thoughts turned also to the valiant labors of Bishop Amadeus Rappe, first Bishop of Cleveland, who served from 1847 until 1870. He set in place firm foundations for this diocese, foundations upon which you continue to build. As the beautiful celebration in Public Hall unfolded, I thought also of other missionaries who have gone forth from the Diocese of Cleveland, religious women and men, priests and bishops, a great and worthy number. They went to so many parts of the country, east and west, and indeed beyond our national borders. I remembered in special fashion Sr. Dorothy Kazel and Jeannie Donovan and the two Maryknoll sisters who gave their lives while serving the Church in El Salvador. In so doing, they made the Church in Cleveland a stronger and more beautiful witness to the truth of the Gospel.

As I considered the work of those who have gone before us in faith, I asked myself then, and I ask myself now, what these faithful pioneers and missionaries would say to us today?

I am confident these practical and devoted people are even now rejoicing in all that God’s grace has made possible here in this large and thriving diocese of Northeastern Ohio. But I am equally confident that these same missionaries, together with your own Bishop of Cleveland, would not want anyone to rest on present laurels! On the contrary, they would point out not only the needs of the missionaries abroad but also that the Church at Cleveland — the Church throughout every diocese of our United States — is still mission territory. It’s not that we’re living in log cabins and trudging over obscure trails. But the cultural thicket is dense, and the obstacles to preaching the Gospel are many. Ours is a society increasingly secular, a society from which God is systematically barred from public life and public activities!

That is why Pope John Paul II has asked us all to engage in what he calls "the new evangelization." As we near the end of the second Christian millennium and prepare to celebrate the Great Jubilee of Christ’s birth, Pope John Paul II has invited and encouraged every member of the Church to be a missionary. Each of us is called to be renewed in our own faith and then to spread the Church’s faith with renewed commitment, vigor and love. The trouble is the way we hear the word "evangelization." To some it suggests the old camp meetings and an emotional approach to God. Even the most informed Catholics wonder what it means in practical terms. How can you and I spread the Gospel today, in the culture in which we live?

English Title:
The Church in the Modern World

Author: Vatican II

Date: December, 1965

Main Points: Up to all Catholics, as the "People of God," to scrutinize the great technological and social changes — good and bad — that have transformed the world. (Names some of these changes — industrialization and mass communication, for example — and lists many changes they’ve effected in turn: greater gaps between rich and poor, overpopulation, rapid growth of city life, questioning of traditional values by the young, etc.)

Explores relationship between Catholic Church and humanity. (While the church isn’t bound to any party or social system, its mission "begins in this world"; all people called to improve the world; Jesus is the lord of history; etc.)

Families, the foundation of society, are especially vulnerable to today’s new trends; the Catholic Church should use culture more to spread the gospel; with new developments in weaponry, a new evaluation of war is needed.

Context: The Cold War and arms race still loom. Discussion of Gaudium et Spes was slotted after Belgium’s Cardinal Joseph Suepens spoke up after the first session of Vatican II asking that the council also address issues more "external" than liturgical change.

Innovation: First social teaching to represent opinions of the world’s bishops.

Trivia: This and other Vatican II documents initiate frequent use of the phrases "People of God" and "signs of the times."

Swami Beyondananada’s 10 Guidelines for Enlightenment:

1. Be a Fundamentalist – ensure that the Fun always comes before the Mental. Realize that life is a situation comedy that will never be canceled. A laugh track has been provided and the reason we are put in the material world is to get more material. Have a good laughsitive twice a day, which will ensure reguhilarity.

2. Remember that each of us has been given a special gift just for entering, so you are already a winner.

3. The most powerful tool on the planet today is Tell-A-Vision. That’s where I tell a vision to you and you tell a vision to me. That way, if we don’t like the programming we’re getting, we can change the channel.

4. Life is like photography – you use the negative to develop. No matter what adversity you face, be reassured: Of course God loves you – He’s just not ready to make a commitment.

5. It is true: As we go through life thinking heavy thoughts, thought particles tend to get caught between the ears and cause a condition called "truth decay." Be sure to use mental floss twice a day, and when you’re tempted to practice ‘tantrum yoga,’ remember what we teach in the Swami’s Absurdiveness Training Class: Don’t get even, get odd.

6. If we want world peace, we must let go of our attachments and truly live like nomads. That way there’ll surely be nomadness on the planet. Peace begins with each of us. A little peace here, a little peace there. Pretty soon all the peaces will fit together to make one big peace everywhere.

7. I know great earth changes have been predicted for the future, so if you’re looking to avoid earthquakes my advice is simple: When you find a fault don’t dwell on it.

8. There’s no need to change the world. All we have to do is toilet train the world and we’ll never have to change it again.

9. If you’re looking for the key to the Universe I’ve got some good news and some bad news. The bad news: There is no key to the Universe. The good news: It was never locked.

10. Finally, everything I’ve told you is channeled. That way, if you don’t like it it’s not my fault. But remember: Enlightenment is not a bureaucracy, so you don’t have to go through channels.

Whenever she was burdened by any disquiet of heart or body, she would stand before an image of the Crucified One. After she had looked at the image for a long time, she would fix her eyes upon it. And then, like Daniel, "the man of desires," her eyes would close and her limbs would sink to the ground. Fainting, she would be completely rapt in spirit. Then she would see Christ with the bloody wound in His side and, pressing the mouth of her heart against it, she would suck such sweetness that nothing at all could distress her.

St. John was 16 when he joined the monks of Mount Athos. From there he wondered into the wilderness that encircled him and spent the next forty years in a desert teeming with holy ascetics. He was revered for curing spiritual disorders and strove after his longed-for God, spurring others in the race: "Keep running, athlete, and do not be afraid." "Love," he taught, "by its nature, is a resemblance to God, insofar as this is humanly possible."

St. Paphnutius was a disciple of St. Anthony in the desert of Egypt before he was made bishop of Upper Thebaid. St. John Cassian ranked him with "that troop of saints who shone like the purest stars in the night" and quoted him in his Conferences: "Holy people have never claimed that their own efforts would have enabled them to find a sense of direction along the road they were traveling to perfect virtue. Rather, they sought it from the Lord, praying, ‘Direct me in your truth.’"

As bishop of Arles, St. Caesarius founded the first monastery for women in Gaul. His rules for the community provided that every nun learn to read and write and that the women retain the exclusive right to select their abbess. "If you possess charity, you have God," he preached, "and if you have God, what do you not possess?"