If you would like to catch up on some recent posts, here is a place where you can easily access some posts you might have missed. I hope it helps… enjoy.
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The Moral Task
The HISTORY Channel docuseries World War II with Tom Hanks begins today, Memorial Day. It is a 20-episode series premiering this Memorial Day. It was developed in collaboration with the National WWII Museum in New Orleans (an awesome museum – visit it if you ever get the chance!). When asked about his ongoing connection to WWII (Saving Private Ryan, Band of Brothers, The Pacific. Greyhound) and why he returns again to these projects, Hanks commented:
We’re not talking about Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones or the Star Wars universe. We are talking about what, at the core of it all, is flesh and blood and the stasis of years asked of an entire generation—plus some—to say, “Put the present on hold. Your future doesn’t mean anything right now, because there is a moral task before us.”
It is that commitment of the men and women of our nation’s armed forces that remember and on this Memorial Day, we remember those who gave their lives because of the moral task before them.
Face-to-face with the Messiah
This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday. The fuller story of the gospel begins at the end of John 2 where we encounter the gospel writer’s closing statement (vv. 23-25). What seems clear is that a lot more than the temple cleansing took place during Jesus’ visit to Jerusalem for this first Passover festival. There is the one recorded sign at Cana; otherwise the record is silent. Yet, the evangelist, while recording no details, goes on to write “many began to believe in his name when they saw the signs he was doing.” Even though many began to believe in Jesus, “Jesus would not trust himself to them.”
These verses suggest that Jesus did not yet see a clear basis for an enduring relationship of faith with the people. They were enthralled by the signs, but Jesus knows they will always want one more – there will always be one more thing in the way of commitment. Only later does Jesus express the bases of that lasting, committed relationship: “You are my friends if you do what I command you. I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father” (John 15:14–15).
Jesus well understands human nature (2:25) – and that is perhaps the overriding narrative of this section of the Fourth Gospel: the response of human nature in coming face-to-face with the Messiah. The majority of John 3 describes Jesus’ encounter with the Jewish leader Nicodemus – a prestigious man “in the know” forms one response. John 4, the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well, points to a different response of human nature.
One way these verses are connected is the double “we know,” uttered by Nicodemus in 3:2 and by Jesus in v. 11. The first person plural, “we,” indicates that both are representing groups – perhaps the distinction between Jewish and Christian leaders, perhaps the subtle difference between thinking that Jesus is just a “teacher who has come from God” or that Jesus is the one who has “descended from heaven,” who will be “lifted up,” and through believing him one has eternal life – the difference between Jesus as a human teacher or the divine savior.
Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain
Holy Trinity Sunday: History
This coming Sunday is Holy Trinity Sunday which is celebrated on the first Sunday following Pentecost in most of the liturgical churches in Western Christianity. It is a solemn celebration of the belief in the revelation of one God, yet three divine persons. It was not uniquely celebrated in the early church, but as with many things the advent of new, sometimes heretical, thinking often gives the Church a moment in which to explain and celebrate its own traditions; things it already believes and holds dear. In the early 4th century when the Arian heresy was spreading, the early church, recognizing the inherent Christological and Trinitarian implications, prepared an Office of Prayer with canticles, responses, a preface, and hymns, to be recited on Sundays to proclaim the Holy Trinity. Pope John XXII (14th century) instituted the celebration for the entire Church as a feast; the celebration became a solemnity after the liturgical reforms of Vatican II.
In the shadow of Pentecost and the dramatic coming of the Holy Spirit, the following week seems a fitting place to pause, as it were, and place it all in a context of salvation history. Perhaps that is why the second reading was selected and says it so well: “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.” (2 Cor 13:13). It ties together the first reading and psalm which point to the working of God before the coming of the Christ as well as our gospel reading, a short passage from the John 3:16-18:
16 For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him. 18 Whoever believes in him will not be condemned, but whoever does not believe has already been condemned, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.
John 3:16 is perhaps one of the most promoted of all gospel passages. The University of Florida quarterback, Tim Tebow, wore this gospel passage as part of his eye-black during an NCAA national championship game. The next day “John 3:16” was the most single-day queried passage in internet history.
If one looks at the three readings for the solemnity, it is summary of salvation history with a
“capstone” provided by the gospel passage.
But part of a whole
When one does a commentary on a gospel passage, one of the first tasks is to mark the beginning and end of the cohesive unit that the gospel writer intended. Our gospel reading is but three verses of a much larger unit. The unit begins with John 2:23 “While he was in Jerusalem for the feast of Passover…” marking a shift from the Johannie scene in which Jesus cleanses the Temple of the money changers et. al. and preparing us for John 3, the first of the discourses: Jesus and Nicodemus. This unit stretches from John 3:1 through to 3:21. Our gospel is intimately connected to the scene of Moses lifting up the serpent in the desert – “So must the Son of Man be lifted up so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. (vvv.14-15). It is the dialog with Nicodemus that gives our gospel its fuller and context.
Note: there is a lot to cover and so some days there will be multiple posts.
Image credit: Rublev, Trinity icon, 15the century, Trinity Lavra of St. Sergius, Moscow, Public Domain
Incomplete Christians?
This past Monday one of the readings for daily Mass was from Acts of the Apostles. I described St. Paul’s encounter with two men who had received the baptism of John of the Baptist, were apparently part of the Christian community in Ephesus, but had never heard of nor received the Holy Spirit. Paul baptized them and laid hands upon them that they might receive the Holy Spirit. From then the two men went about using their gifts given by the Spirit.
Continue readingMakes me wonder
If you spend anytime on your computer doing anyone of a variety of what today are mundane tasks, the internet (the amorphous “they” or sometimes, “them”) begins to know you, develop an algorithm about you and send you advertisements, promotions, and the like. Perhaps these things reflect you browser history and interests. Perhaps smart home devices like Alexa and Siri have been listening. Or maybe the random flotsam and jetsam of digital lives have finally been stitched together to reveal our deep identity, hidden desires, or better yet – our secret identities: mild mannered photojournalist novice Peter Parker by day and your friendly neighborhood Spider Man by night. Hard to say, difficult to know.
Why such musings? Well…. I have no idea why this morning I received this promotional email:
Unless there was some part of being a Franciscan and a parish priest about which I was not informed, I am not sure why I would be a prospective customer. Clearly I can not afford to purchase or lease such an aircraft – or pay the insurance, the fuel cost, the pilot or hanger fees. But just maybe I could “flexjet” off to my next meeting. Of course, my next meeting is at the parish approximately 0.25 miles through the woods… and I rather enjoy the walk.
I have to go to St. Louis in July for a gather of friars. I wonder if I could “flexjet” and hopscotch regional airports between here and St. Louis picking up friars to ride-share. There are a good number of friars here in the broader Washington DC area, Cincinnati (original settlement named Losantiville, in case you were wondering – now named after a dictator of the early Roman Empire – but that is besides the point… lots of friars live nearby)… I wonder if the Chicago area friars want in on the ride. Of course I would have to actually click the “Learn more” button to find out pricing… and that would add to “them” knowing more about me.
I have a good friend who works for an organization that has more than one private jet in their hangers. In chatting I have mentioned that it would be nice if they could “pick me up” on their way and drop me off. I don’t think I am being taken seriously. But it raises the possibility that “they” are monitoring my cell phone and have picked up the chatter that “flexjet” might be just the thing I need. I know that federal agencies can monitor “metadata” on calls, but I am not sure they could extract my “flexjet” needs or desires…perhaps a wiretap? That would explain a lot of things…but then that would also assume I am actually interesting enough to wiretap. I am sure that if I gave it a go I could weave any number of conspiracy plots that include private, next-level, jet service to some exotic destination. Sorry, St. Louis. A great American city I am sure… gateway to the west and all that, but Montevideo sounds more exotic. And I have been to St. Louis; never been to Montevideo. I would love to revisit New Zealand…
Of course it could all be random…like radioactive decay at the quantum level. You know true randomness is simply because we lack the right tools or information. It is fundamentally uncaused and unpredictable. Like the “flexjet” promotion in the inbox of a Franciscan friar.
By this point, you might be thinking, “where is all this going?” Most likely answer: nowhere. But then again you are reading a blog with “musings” in the title…just saying..
What They Don’t Tell You About Getting Old
Today is my birthday and someone sent me this in anticipation of the years a decade ahead. I don’t know the source and online research did not reveal any clues, so credit to Roger Rosenblatt, the author.
I recently turned 83, and while there are many joys to getting older, getting out of taxis is not one of them.
What you don’t want to do is get your left foot caught under the front right seat before you try to swing your right foot toward the door; otherwise, you’ll topple over while attempting to pay the fare, possibly injuring your ankle, and causing the maneuver to go even more slowly. If you make it past the taxi door, there is still the one-foot jump to the street. You’re old. You could fall. Happens all the time.
And that’s when it’s just you in the taxi. If some other old person is with you — a friend, a spouse — there’s a real possibility of never getting out of the vehicle. You might live out the rest of your days in the back seat, watching Dick Cavett do real estate ads on a loop.
“Old People Getting Out of Taxis.” I was thinking of making a film with that title, if I knew how to make a film. Figure it would run four hours. I asked an actor friend, also old, if he’d star in it. His response: “If I can get out of my chair.”
It’s no joke, old age. It just looks funny. Mel Brooks latched on to this in his 1977 film “High Anxiety” with Professor Lilloman (pronounced “little old man”), a stock character who moves at a turtle’s pace, mumbles and whines as he goes, equally irritated and irritating.
I used to find the professor a lot funnier than I do now. Slow? Merely to rise to my feet in a restaurant takes so much angling and fulcrum searching, the waitstaff takes bets on whether I will do it at all.
Old age isn’t what the books promised it would be. Literature is littered with old people for whom the years have brought some combination of wisdom, serenity, authority and power — King Lear, the ageless priest in Shangri-La, Miss Marple, Mr. Chips, Mrs. Chips (I made that up), Dickens’s Aged P, crazy Mrs. Danvers. In fiction, old folks are usually impressive and in control. In life, something less.
I can’t think of anyone who has come to me for wisdom, serenity, authority or power. People do come to sell me life insurance for $9 a month and medicines such as Prevagen, which is advertised on TV as making one sharper and improving one’s memory. Of course, that is beneficial only to those who have more things they wish to remember than to forget.
One thing I need to remember is which day for which doctor. Two years ago, my wife and I moved back to New York City after 24 years of living by the sea. The city is safer, we thought — just in case we may ever need to be near medical facilities. Since our move, not a day has passed without one of us seeing a doctor, arranging to see one or thinking or talking about seeing one.
One day last week, I had a vascular sonogram in the morning, consulted my ophthalmologist in the afternoon, made an appointment with a retina specialist, spoke to my primary care physician about test results and put off my dentist. As a result of such activities, my vocabulary has increased. I now can say “occlusion” — and mean it. Has anyone seen my oximeter?
Activities such as getting out of a taxi are not only degrading and humiliating; they take so much effort, they simply make you tired. You may reasonably say, “Why not take the subway?” I would, except for the two hours needed to get up and down the stairs. Still, it’s all a matter of adjustment. It took me three or four years of taxi rides to finally admit to myself that I’m old.
Old. Even the word sounds like a sigh of surrender.
I wrote a book called “Rules for Aging” 25 years ago, when I used to leap in and out of taxis like a deer, if you can picture such a thing. The rules were less about aging than about living generally, one of the first being “Nobody’s thinking about you.”
In old age that’s true in spades. And that’s another of aging’s unnerving surprises. You disappear from the culture, or rather, it disappears from you. Young women and men shown on TV as world famous, you’ve never heard of. New idioms leave you baffled. You are Rip Van Winkle without having fallen asleep.
To be sure, old age has compensations. Grandchildren. Their company is delightful, partly because they think you have something useful to impart, if you could remember to impart it. Waitresses tend to treat you sweetly. Doormen and maintenance crews show respect. And there are positive or harmless activities for the over the hill. Women take up watercolors and form book clubs. Men find loud if pointless camaraderie in diners and on village benches all over the country. Hey, old-timer.
While here in the city, we hail taxis. And cringe to see whether the one we have hailed is a normal car, for normal people, or one of those sliding, clanging door jobs that require a forklift for entry. I’m not exaggerating — much.
My point is: Who ever expected to spend time wondering if Madison Beer is a beverage honoring a founding father? Who ever expected that one’s social circle would consist of Marie, who does blood work, and an M.R.I. technician named Lou? Who ever expected that getting out of a taxi would be so momentous an issue that one is a bundle of nerves planning exit strategies halfway through the ride? Who ever expected old age?
Image credit: Jelena Stanojkovic. | iStock photo ID:1716794244 | Standard iStock license | downloaded May 4, 2026
Whose sins you forgive
This coming Sunday is Pentecost with the gospel reading taken from the Gospel of John. Many scholars see a parallel between John 20:23 and Matthew 18:18: “Amen, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” The parallel becomes clearer when we know that the words “forgive” in John 20:23 are the Greek words aphiēmi and krateō which mean “send away” and “hold” respectively [EDNT 2:314]. But even with the parallels aside, the meaning, extent and exercise of the Matthean and Johannine powers has been a source of division with the post-Reformation Christian community.
The Council of Trent rejected the proposal that this power to forgive sins was offered to each of Christ’s faithful – something one often sees in commentaries from a Reformed perspective. The Catholic Church has always held that the power to forgive sin was to be understood as that ministry to which the ordained minister was called; something it had maintained as the teaching of the church and only formally declared at Trent when it was challenged by the Reformers. As Fr. Brown notes [1041] this is not a debate that can be settled solely on exegetical grounds – nor does the Catholic Church propose such a solution. The Church looks to Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition.
The Church has also looked at Jesus’ own action toward sin as expressed in John. In 9:39-41 Jesus says that he came into the world for judgment; to enable some to see and to cause blindness for others. Deliberate blindness means remaining in sin; and, implicitly, willingness to see results in being delivered from sin.” [Brown, 1042] So as Jesus was sent into the world, so too the apostles and their successors to exercise discriminating judgment between good and evil. This idea of the apostles as agents of discriminating judgment is reinforced by the idea that the Advocate/paraclete is working through the apostles as an avenue of the outpouring of the Spirit that cleanses people and begets within them new life. All-in-all this passage is a declaratory statement that the core of Jesus’ ministry, forgiveness of sin and the restoration of right relationship, continues within the community generally, but in specific sacramental ministries in the particular sense.
This gospel passage makes clear that there is a strong relationship between the Resurrection and the coming of the Holy Spirit – and Jesus’ gift of the Holy Spirit points to the Resurrection as the start, the source and the reason for mission. As Jesus has been sent, so too are we sent on mission. Those are the final words of the celebration of the Mass: Ita misa est – Go! [the church] is mission!
Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobash, pravolavie.ru, CC BY-SA
Papal Encyclical and Memorial Day
On Monday, May 25th, our Nation celebrates Memorial Day. On that same day the Vatican will release Pope Leo’s first encyclical.
Lots of people confuse Memorial Day or conflate it with Veteran’s Day. It is the latter which honors all the men and women who have served our nation in the military. It is the former that remembers and honors all those who have died while serving in the United States Armed Forces. It is a difference of which I receive weekly reminders as I am honored to serve veteran families during the internment of their loved ones at Quantico National Cemetery.
Lots of people are confused about papal encyclicals. While primarily addressed to the Church’s bishops, modern encyclicals are published globally to guide the faithful and address societal issues. They are a powerful expression of the pope’s “ordinary magisterium” (everyday teaching authority). While highly authoritative and significant, they do not inherently constitute “infallible” (ex-cathedra) statements.
The title of the Encyclical is Magnifica Humanitas (“Magnificent Humanity”). A major theme of the document will be to reaffirm values, to ensure that we don’t lose values and sight of the fundamental dignity of people in the face of technology. I understand that some part of the encyclical will address Artificial Intelligence. It will be interesting to see his teaching on how this technology impact the dignity of people.
Receive the Holy Spirit
This coming Sunday is Pentecost with the gospel reading taken from the Gospel of John. John 20:21–22 form a key passage in Johannine theology. The disciples receive the Holy Spirit at this second coming of Jesus: the eschaton, the final era, is now; future is present. In 7:39, the Spirit had not yet been given, since Jesus was not yet glorified. On the cross, Jesus, manifesting the nature of God, which is love, delivers over the Spirit (19:30), symbolized immediately afterward by the flow of the sacramental symbols of blood and water. And now, at his first encounter with the believing community, he breathes the Spirit again as he celebrates the re-creation of God’s people.
Simultaneously, he sends out these disciples just as the Father had sent him (v. 21). His mission becomes theirs; his work is placed in their hands. And that mission, that work, is to manifest God who is love in their words and deeds. Through them now, enlivened by the Spirit, will the presence of God become known and seen and felt in the world.
Although the text does not use parakletos, there is unanimity among commentators that the Holy Spirit is the Advocate promised in the Farewell Discourse of the Fourth Gospel. That discourse had outlined the role the Advocate/Holy Spirit would play in relation to the disciples. The Holy Spirit will:
- be recognized by the disciples (14:17)
- teach the disciples everything (14:26)
- guide the disciples along the way of all truth (16:13)
- take what belongs to the Jesus and declare it to the disciples (16:14)
- glorify Jesus (16:14)
- bear witness to Jesus in order that the disciples will also bear witness to Jesus (15:26-27)
- remind the disciples of all that Jesus told them (14:26)
Fr. Raymond Brown nuances these promises in that the parakletos describes that aspect of the Holy Spirit which is specifically concerned with witness so that a believer is assured of all the power needed to be witness. Brown [1139-43] makes a case that the full power of the Holy Spirit manifests in other ways not connected to the witness of the person/community – e.g. baptismal regeneration, sacramental forgiveness of sins, and gifts that build up the community.
Thus Jesus’ words about sending his disciples as the Father sent him applied immediately to the apostles both with respect to Christian mission and to them in their specific roles/gifts within the church. It is in Baptism that all believers are privileged to share in this Mission in so far as they all are recipients of the Spirit whom he bequeathed to his disciples (see 20:22). With the particular enabling that Spirit provides, each plays a part in continuing the work and witness of Jesus. What is clear in text such as 1 Cor 12:3-12 (the second reading on Pentecost Sunday, Year A) – to one a particular gift is given, to another, another gift – all from the same spirit.
Image credit: Fr. Ted Bobash, pravolavie.ru, CC BY-SA
Why do you call me good?
The New Testament is a collection of texts written by various authors over decades, and it naturally contains diverse portrayals of Jesus. Several passages show Jesus expressing human limitations, ignorance, or subservience to God, prompting questions about his precise identity and nature. For example, “Jesus answered him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone.” (Mark 10:18) When a young man addresses him as “Good Teacher,” Jesus appears to distance himself from the title, suggesting an absolute separation between himself and the pure, unmatched goodness of God.
The verse from Gospel of Mark 10:18 has long attracted attention because, at first glance, Jesus Christ seems to reject being called “good”. Some have wondered whether Jesus is denying his divinity or distancing himself from the goodness that belongs uniquely to God. But the Early Church Fathers overwhelmingly understood the passage differently. Rather than denying his divinity, they saw Jesus drawing the young man deeper into recognizing who Jesus truly is.
The verse from Gospel of Mark 10:18 has long attracted attention because, at first glance, Jesus Christ seems to reject being called “good”. Some readers have wondered whether Jesus is denying his divinity or distancing himself from the goodness that belongs uniquely to God. But the Early Church Fathers overwhelmingly understood the passage differently. Rather than denying his divinity, they saw Jesus drawing the young man deeper into recognizing who Jesus truly is. Their interpretations generally moved along several connected lines.
An Instruction on Recognition of Divinity.
Many of the Early Church Fathers contended that Jesus was not issuing a disclaimer regarding his goodness, but was instead posing a transformative question: “If you call me good, do you understand what that means?” The challenge lies not in the terminology, but in whether the young man grasped the profound reality that calling Jesus “good” necessitated a recognition of his divine nature.
St. Augustine posited that Christ was examining the depth of the man’s perception: If absolute goodness is the exclusive domain of God, and if Jesus is indeed truly good, it follows that the man must acknowledge Jesus as more than a mere human instructor. In this view, Christ does not relinquish his claim to goodness; rather, he redirects the man from a superficial courtesy toward a substantive confession of faith. For Augustine, the verse functions as an invitation to see the divine excellence present in the person of Christ.
Distinguishing Flattery from Truth. Other Patristic authors suggested that Jesus was correcting a casual or shallow use of language. John Chrysostom noted that the young ruler approached Jesus as a respected rabbi rather than the Son of God. Consequently, Jesus questions his use of language: Why use divine language without understanding its depth? Rather than denying his own goodness, Jesus exposes the superficiality of the young man’s faith, critiquing praise that is divorced from true discipleship.
Absolute Goodness vs. Participating in Goodness. The Fathers frequently employed a distinction regarding the nature of goodness: God exists as goodness itself in its absolute form, while all created beings possess goodness only by participation. Origen clarified that only God is good in an uncreated sense. While humans share in this goodness, the statement “No one is good but God alone” identifies the ultimate source. Because the Fathers held Christ to be divine, they did not see this as an exclusion. Instead, as the eternal Son, Christ shares fully in the Father’s essential goodness.
The Defense of Christological Doctrine
Passages that critics used to question Christ’s status were often reclaimed by the Fathers as evidence of his divinity. During the fourth-century Arian controversies, Athanasius of Alexandria argued that if Christ were merely a creature, he could not possess the fullness of divine goodness. Since the New Testament portrays Christ as sinless and holy, the Fathers interpreted Mark 10:18 as a pedagogical tool meant to elicit theological insight rather than a denial of his nature.
The Role of Humility
Another strand of interpretation emphasized the humility inherent in Christ’s human manifestation. Gregory the Great observed that Jesus often spoke in a manner appropriate to his humanity, modeling humility by directing ultimate glory toward the Father while refusing superficial honors.
Conclusion: A Socratic Challenge
The Fathers viewed this verse through the lens of the entire Gospel narrative rather than in isolation. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus performs acts reserved for God: forgiving sins, accepting worship, and claiming unity with the Father. The Fathers thus concluded that Jesus was not disavowing his goodness, but asking a nearly Socratic question: “Do you understand what you are saying when you call me good?”
This passage remains vital as it challenges believers to move beyond a purely sentimental or moralistic admiration of Jesus. While it is simple to regard him as a moral instructor, an inspiring figure, or a “good person,” the Gospels continually press the deeper question of his identity. For the Church Fathers, Mark 10:18 is not a withdrawal from divinity, but a gentle leading of the hearer toward it.
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