In July of 2007, more than one year before World Youth Day, the Holy Father sent a Message to the Young People of the World. The message is an extended meditation on this passage from Scripture: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8). In his closing paragraph of that message, the Pope states clearly what he intended to do at World Youth Day in 2008: “Together we shall invoke the Holy Spirit, confidently asking God for the gift of a new Pentecost for the Church and for humanity in the third millennium.”

In his apostolic journey to the United States, the same theme occured again. In the Mass at Nationals Stadium in Washington, D.C., the Pope intentionally chose to celebrate a votive Mass of the Holy Spirit. In his homily at Nationals Stadium, the Pope gave three reasons for his coming to the United States. First, “I have come to proclaim anew, as Peter proclaimed on the day of Pentecost, that Jesus Christ is Lord…” Second, “I have come to repeat the Apostle’s urgent call to conversion and the forgiveness of sins…” and third, “to implore from the Lord a new outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon the Church in this country.” Later in the same homily, he gently asked: “Today let us pray fervently that the Church in America will be renewed in that same Spirit…” Later still in the same homily, he was more blunt: “And above all, pray that the Holy Spirit will pour out His gifts upon the Church, the gifts that lead to conversion, forgiveness and growth in holiness.”

The day following, at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York, the Pope celebrated Mass with religious and consecrated persons. In his homily, the same theme continued. He said, “let us implore from God the grace of a new Pentecost for the Church in America. May tongues of fire, combining burning love of God and neighbor with zeal for the spread of Christ’s Kingdom, descend on all present!” Later, he urged those in attendance: “So let us lift our gaze upward! And with great humility and confidence, let us ask the Spirit to enable us each day to grow in the holiness that will make us living stones in the temple which He is even now raising up in the midst of our world.”

A few months later, the Pope went to Sydney for World Youth Day. At the closing Mass, his homily was an extended catechesis on the Holy Spirit. But the Pope did more than talk about the Holy Spirit. He deliberately chose, as though to prove the urgency of his message, to confirm several young people at the same Mass. At the end of his homily, as he was about to begin those confirmations, the Pope said to the crowd of youth: “As we pray for the confirmands, let us ask that the power of the Holy Spirit will revive the grace of our own Confirmation.”

In these words the Pope urged Catholics not only to pray for a new Pentecost, but got quite specific about how to do so. He wants those who are already confirmed to pray specifically for a renewal of their own confirmation. As Catholics we are already in the practice of celebrating the renewal of our baptisms. We do so in the liturgy at the asperges or sprinkling of water (in addition to the use of holy water outside of Mass). The Pope is telling the flock that just as we can and should renew our baptism, so we can and should renew our confirmation. We need only ask the Lord to do it.

There are many more quotes from Pope Benedict XVI urging Catholics to pray for a new Pentecost. Here is a random example (from his Regina Caeli address on the feast of Pentecost 2008): “Let us ask the Virgin Mary to obtain a renewed Pentecost for the Church again today, a Pentecost that will spread in everyone the joy of living and witnessing to the Gospel.” Here the Pope urged us to ask the Blessed Mother for a new Pentecost.

Pope Benedict XVI is not the first pope to urge Catholics to pray for a new Pentecost. The theme appeared long before Vatican II. In 1897 Pope Leo XIII issued an encyclical on the Holy Spirit (Divinum Illud Munus), and urged an increase of devotion to the Holy Spirit. Pope Leo’s vocabulary is slightly different. Instead of speaking of a new Pentecost, he prayed and urged all the faithful to pray that “those divine prodigies may be happily revived by the Holy Ghost, which were foretold in the words of David: ‘Send forth Thy Spirit and they shall be created, and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth’ (Ps. ciii., 30).”

This coming October a Synod of Bishops will meet in Rome to reflect upon the theme “The Word of God.” As far as the Pope is concerned, of all the things that the Church needs to be talking about and meditating upon today, that one thing is the Word of God. When we listen to the Pope’s clear, repeated, and vehement urgings to pray for a new Pentecost, and when we notice the choice of topic for the upcoming Synod, we get a clear picture of where the Pope is leading his flock. He is pointing us down the road to a place where together, as a Church, we will encounter the Risen Christ speaking to us today through the Word of God by the light of the Holy Spirit. Could there be anything more thrilling for faith? Could there be anything more explosive with love?

Sometimes it is pointed out that Pope Benedict has a great vision, but no substantial media for communicating his vision to the Church at large. He has nothing like a CNN where all Catholics always tune in. Nonetheless, there are many faithful pastors and priests in the Church. And they have pulpits. Furthermore, there are many religious, catechists, teachers, and parents in the Church. And they each have a circle of influence. If each of these passed along the Pope’s call to pray for a new Pentecost, if each of these invited people to pray for a renewal of their confirmation, undoubtedly a great many people would begin to do it.

And if many people actually did what the Pope is asking of us, if many Catholics really got down on their knees and begged for a new Pentecost, begged that the gifts and charisms received in their own confirmations would be activated and ignited, begged the Virgin Mary to pray for all this, then what would happen?

Brothers and sisters, what have you come out to see, a reed shaken by the wind, or the rock? Our Catholic faith is solid like a rock, built on the rock of Peter. But one would never know it by listening to the voices of despair around us.

So many people are making the case for despair. We hear all the time about the scandals in the Church. We hear about the crisis in Catholic education. We hear that young people are leaving the Church in droves. And we hear not only about the Church. A state governor just resigned from office, and the mayor of a major city is on trial. Moral relativism seems pervasive and books pushing atheism are more popular than ever. To top it off, today [April 16] is the one year anniversary of the massacre at Virginia Tech. Sometimes, the case for despair seems unanswerable.

But Pope Benedict is coming to the United States to answer the case for despair. The answer is Jesus. You can take all the evils in the world, line up all the crises in the Church and in society, or make an inventory of all of our problems, and you know what we say? We say that the love of Christ is stronger. The love of Christ is stronger than all the problems around us. The love of Christ is stronger than all of our weaknesses.

“I know my plans for you says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for evil, plans to give you a future and hope” (Jer. 29:11).

To those who are trapped in addiction to alcohol, drugs, and pornography, we say that the love is Christ is stronger. To the women and men hurting after an abortion, we say that the love of Christ is stronger than the bitter memory of that day in your life. To those who are broken hearted about the war and the violence around us, we say that the love of Christ is stronger. “He heals the broken hearted, he binds up all their wounds” (Ps. 147:3).

Now, when we say that the love of Christ is stronger, we do not mean that the love of Christ is some magic wand that will make all of our problems disappear. We are too realistic to think such a thing. Rather, we say that the love of Christ is like a flame flickering in the night time. No matter how thick the surrounding darkness can get, the darkness never extinguishes the flame. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (Jn. 1:5).

Remember St. Maximilian Kolbe? He was the Polish priest, the Franciscan, who lived during World War II. He confessed the name of Christ, was arrested, and sent to Auschwitz. In that horrific place he was surrounded on all sides by reasons for despair. Everywhere he turned there was another reason to give up hope. But he had the supernatural knowledge called faith, and by his faith he knew that the love of Christ was stronger than all the evil he saw around him.

The rule in the camp was that if anyone attempted to escape, ten men would be selected at random to die by starvation. They would be rounded up and sent to a starvation bunker. One day, someone tried to escape. Sure enough, ten were selected to die. One of the men selected for execution had children, and pleaded for his life with the guard. Fr. Kolbe saw the man pleading, and offered himself to the guard in exchange. The guard accepted the offer, and St. Maximilian Kolbe went off to die with the rest of them in the starvation bunker.

Even though St. Maximilian was surrounded on all sides by evils of every kind, even though he was swamped with reasons to despair, the darkness could not extinguish from his heart the capacity to love. Even in that horrible place, St. Maximilian retained within himself the ability to love like Christ. And that, brothers and sisters, is the victory of Christ. The victory is interior and spiritual.

Let us always remember St. Maximilian Kolbe, and let us always remember that no matter what is going on around us, the love of Christ is stronger.

The Evangelist

The evangelist immediately passes from testifying about the piercing of Christ's side to reassuring us of the truth this testimony. Clearly, the evangelist expects the reader to be stunned with disbelief upon reading about the piercing and the outflow of blood and water. Let us perceive deeply the symbolism of the piercing, and feel the stun of unbelievably good news. 

Let us consider each element of this symbolic event. First, the one who pierces is a soldier. Second, what he uses to pierce is a spear. Third, what he pierces is the body of Christ. Fourth, where he pierces the body is in the side. Fifth, the time when he pierces Christ's side is after Christ has completed offering the sacrifice ("it is finished", v.30). Sixth, what results from the piercing is an outflow. Seventh, the outflow is composed of blood and water. All these elements are significant. Together they form the dream, and Scripture tells the interpretation.

The Scene

It is significant that the one who pierces Christ is a soldier and that the soldier uses a spear to pierce him. David was a type of Christ. Now the soldier Goliath approached David with a spear (1 Sm. 17:45), but David physically defeated the giant. Likewise, the soldier approached Jesus with a spear, but Jesus spiritually defeated the soldier: "truly this man was the Son of God" (Mk. 15:39). David defeated the Goliath while David was still alive, but Jesus defeated the soldier when Jesus was dead. For the fulfillment must be greater than the prefiguration.

It is significant that the soldier strikes Christ and there flows out water. Moses struck the rock in the desert with his staff, and there flowed out water for the Israelites lest they die of thirst (Nm. 20:8-13 and Ex. 17:2-7). The rock is Jesus. For St. Paul says that the Israelites "drank from the supernatural Rock which followed them, and the Rock was Christ" (1 Cor. 10:4). The significance of the water will be shown below. Other things need to be pondered first.

It is significant that it was the body of Christ that was pierced and that his body issued forth a flow of water. For the body of Christ is the temple (Jn. 2:21). And the prophet Ezekiel saw a vision in which an ever-increasing river of water flowed from the temple (ch.47).

It is significant that it was the side of the body of Christ that was pierced. In Ezekiel's vision of the Temple, the water issued from the side of the temple – "from below the threshold of the temple toward the east" (Ez. 47:1). Furthermore, the side is where the heart is accessible. We can plausibly suppose that the heart of Christ was pierced. 

It is significant that the water flowed out from the side of Christ. Water flows out from fountains. Now, the prophet Zechariah prophesied of a day when "they shall look upon him whom they have pierced" (Zech. 12:10), and Zechariah says "on that day there shall be a fountain opened for the house of David and Jerusalem to cleanse them from sin and uncleanness" (Zech. 13:1). The evangelist himself refers to this passage of Zechariah in connection with the piercing event (Jn.19:37).

The Water

It is significant that water flowed out from the side of Christ. This for four reasons.

First, the water of baptism gives life and cleanses from sin. In baptism, we are made one with Christ in his death and rise with him to new life (Rm. 6:4, Col.2:12). The issue of water from the side of Christ, say the Fathers, is a symbol of baptism. As a symbol of baptism, the water also symbolizes the Church. For baptism incorporates one into the Church.

Second, the water from Moses' rock slaked the thirst of Israel, but Israel thirsted again. The water from the rock of Christ slakes the thirst of the world, and the world need never thirst again. "Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst" (Jn.4:14).The water from Moses' rock gives physical life, but the water from Jesus gives spiritual life consisting of knowledge of God and Christ: "the water that I shall give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life" (Jn.4:14). And "eternal life is knowing God and the one whom Thou has sent" (Jn. 17:3). The water from Moses' rock springs from the strike on the surface, but the water from Christ springs from the piercing of the heart. And "out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water. This he said about the Spirit" (Jn.7:38-9). The water issuing from the side of Christ thus symbolizes nothing less than the outpouring of the Spirit. It is the Spirit who is the Lord the giver of life (Nicene Creed), the Spirit who leads into the knowledge of all truth (Jn.16:13), the Spirit who washes from all uncleanness (Ez. 36:27-9). 

Third, the water from Ezekiel's temple also gives life. The river of water from the temple gave life to fish, swarms of fish, and fisherman worked along its banks (Ez. 47:10). So too the water flowing from Christ is swarming with souls, and the members of the Church are "fishers of men" (Mt. 4:19). The river also gave life to trees, fruit trees in particular, with unfading leaves and bearing fresh fruit every month (Ez. 47:12). So too the water from the side of Christ empowers the members of his Church to go and bear much fruit and fruit that will last (Jn.15:8, 16).

Fourth, the water (presumably) from Zechariah's fountain, like the waters of baptism, cleanses from sin and uncleanness (Zech. 13:1). It also puts an end to idolatry and false prophecy (Zech. 13:25-5), just as the Church will do thanks to the power of the water flowing from the fountain of Christ's pierced heart. "Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" (Amos 5:24).

The Blood

It is significant also that it was blood that came forth from the side of Christ. This for eight reasons.

First, blood is the life of a thing. "The blood is life" (Deut. 12:23). "Only you shall not eat flesh with its life, that is, its blood" (Gen. 9:4). The association between life and blood is so close that even today we speak of a murderer as someone who "spilled blood."

Second, blood saves lives from death. On the night of the first Passover, the blood of the Lamb was touched to the doorposts of the Israelite houses and the angel of death passed by (Ex. 12).

Third, blood seals covenants. The covenant between God and Abraham was sealed in blood (Gen. 15:1-17), and so too the covenant between God and Israel under Moses (Ex. 24). Since "even the first covenant was not ratified without blood"(Heb. 9:18), what poured forth from the side of Christ was "my blood of the covenant" (Mt. 26:26, Mk.14:24, Lk.22:20), that is, an "eternal covenant" (Heb. 13:20).

Fourth, blood purifies vessels from uncleanness. Moses "sprinkled with blood both the tent and all the vessels used in worship. Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood" (Heb 9:21-22).

Fifth, the blood of Christ holds every salvific benefit. The blood of Christ is "an expiation" (Rom. 3:25). The blood of Christ justifies us: "we are now justified by his blood" (Rom. 5: 9).  The blood of Christ redeems us: "we have redemption through his blood" (Eph. 1:7). The blood of Christ purifies "your conscience from dead works to the living God" (Heb. 9:14).  Jesus Christ made "peace by the blood of his cross" (Col. 1:20). Jesus Christ entered the heavenly sanctuary "taking not the blood of goats and calves but his own blood, thus securing an eternal redemption" (Heb. 9:12). The blood of Abel cried out to heaven from the ground (Gen. 4:10), but the blood of Christ speaks more eloquently than that of Abel (Heb.12:24).

Sixth, the blood of Christ (like water) is also connected with baptism. "These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb" (Rev. 7:14) And "the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin" (1 Jn. 1:7). Blood is associated with baptism because baptism applies to individuals the redeeming power of the blood of Christ.

Seventh, the blood of Christ is also associated with the Eucharist. Under the Old Covenant the Israelites were forbidden from eating blood (Gn.9:4, Dt. 12:23). But "Jesus said to them, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life…" (Jn. 6:53-4). It is no accident that in the setting of the last supper, Jesus uses an image to say that his life will pass from him to his followers: "I am the vine; you are the branches" (Jn. 15:5). To drink the blood of Christ is nothing less than to receive his life. For "the blood is life" (Deut. 12:23).

Eighth, in their spiritual battle with diabolical powers the saints are victorious by the power of the blood of Christ. "The defeated him by the blood of the Lamb, and the word of their testimony." (Rev. 12:11, Breviary translation).

It is significant also when the blood came forth from the side of Christ. The blood issued forth after Christ had offered his sacrifice. When giving instructions to the Israelite priests about how to perform sacrifices (burnt holocausts), God instructed them that after the slaughter of the animal they were to drain the rest of its blood and pour it out on the ground at the base of the altar. God gave these instructions first to Moses: "the rest of the blood you shall pour out at the base of the altar" (Ex. 29:20). God gave the same instructions to later Israelite priests: "the rest of the blood of the bull he shall pour out at the base of the altar of burnt offering" (Lv. 4:7, see also 4:34, 5:9). Just as Moses and the Levite priests drained the rest of the blood from their sacrifices and poured it out at the base of the altar, so too Christ drained the rest of his blood and poured it out at the base of his cross. Even in his death, Christ fulfilled the ceremonial precepts of the Torah in a surpassing way.

But these Torah instructions, someone might object, apply only to burnt offerings and Christ's sacrifice was not a burnt offering. I reply that although Christ did not offer himself in physical flames, he did offer himself in the spiritual fire of the Holy Spirit. Christ "through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God" (Heb. 9:14).

The Meaning

The pierced Christ is the rock of Moses, the temple of Ezekiel, the fountain of Zechariah. The pierced heart of Christ is the source of the water that truly slakes spiritual thirst. The pierced side of Christ is the side of the new temple that issues in a torrential river of eternal life. The pierced One is the fountain that cleanses us from sin, purges idolatry, and quenches false prophecy. All of this is summed up and made available to us today in baptism and the Eucharist. The water that flows out from the pierced One is the Holy Spirit who leads to knowledge of all truth and gives knowledge of God and Christ. Not by piercing but by being pierced, our Anointed Soldier has defeated Goliath. He has defeated the world belonging to Satan and death. "He disarmed the principalities and powers and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in him" (Col 2:15). "O death, where is thy victory? O death, where is thy sting?" (Col. 15:55).

Christ is our High Priest offering himself as a burnt offering consumed in the flames of the Spirit. Christ fulfills the Torah in a surpassing way by draining the rest of his blood at the base of his altar. When he pours down upon us his blood, he pours down upon us his very life. Now, we carry this life in our selves, that is, "in earthen vessels" (2 Cor. 4:7). Yet his blood also cleanses the vessels, and thus we are called "vessels of mercy" (Rom. 9:23).  The outflow of blood causes the angel of death to pass over us, seals the new and eternal covenant with us, opens up the fount of baptism for us, lays the Eucharistic banquet before us, and through these two sacraments communicates to us every salvific benefit: sanctification, justification, expiation, redemption, and victory in the diabolical battle of our day.

All of this is love. When we look at the piercing of Christ in light of all these types and prophecies, we find layers upon layers of significance and meaning. But all the layers show us one thing: a God who "loved them to the end" (Jn. 13:1).

To what shall we compare the Fourth Sunday of Advent? It is like a bridegroom whispering in the ear of his bride a promise of things delightful and near. In the liturgy of the Fourth Sunday, Christ whispers into the ear of His Church the things of Christmas. And with what desire does the bride desire them!

Our Lord always tends to arouse within us desires for things that are beyond us. He makes our hearts thirsty, yet for a drink that the earth does not provide. He makes our souls hungry, yet for a food that grows in no earthly field. He makes us long for a happiness, a goodness, a life, a truth, a joy, and a peace that surpass all our experience and all our powers to obtain. These are the things of Christmas. 

What is it like to hear Him whisper of the things of Christmas? The whisper of the Lord is an instinct of the heart. A French priest of the mid-twentieth century described the whisper well. The Lord's whisper is "always troubling us in secret, ennobling our dreams, like a mysterious and irresistible call from unknown lands which send us their perfumes and beckon to us, but do not send their fruits, while we ourselves have neither oars nor sails to reach them… We have the idea and the desire of a happiness, a knowledge, an immortality, which surpass our human possibilities."[1] By His grace, the Lord plants within us a deep instinct for higher things — the things of Christmas. God plants within us an instinct for Himself — an instinct to seek Him, cleave to Him, belong to Him, live with Him, indeed, see Him.

The Lord plants within us this thirst for Himself so that He might slake this very thirst by giving us Himself. He awakens our desire for the things of Christmas so that Christmas itself might be his gift to us — the gift of His very self revealed through flesh.

All the readings for the Fourth Sunday of Advent combine to reveal just how close God wants to be with us and how close He wants us to be with Him.

Emmanuel On My Lap

In the first reading, we hear the great prophecy of Isaiah: "Behold, a virgin shall be with child and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel." The Gospel reading tells us the meaning of the name 'Emmanuel.' It means "God with us", and that is what the child born of Mary really is. He is God with us. As Pope St. Leo the Great put it, "by giving birth in this wonderful way, the holy Virgin brought forth in a single offspring both a truly human nature and a truly divine one."[2]

Jesus is God with us. Perhaps we have heard this truth so many times that we have become thoughtless about it. Perhaps we have never really explored its depths. It is time to ponder the mystery anew so that on Christmas day we may live it anew.

The child to be born of the Virgin will be both a dweller and a dwelling. Jesus is God dwelling among us: "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us…"(Jn. 1:14). And Jesus is a dwelling for us: "Abide in me…abide in my love" (Jn. 15:4,9). The first one to dwell in this Dwelling was Mary.

St. Ephrem the Syrian considered the possibility that Mary had heard the prophecy of Isaiah. In that case, she must have looked upon her own situation in light of Isaiah's prophecy.

With this possibility in mind, St. Ephrem meditated deeply upon the birth of Christ from Mary's point of view. At the birth of Christ, Mary recalls the prophecy of Isaiah and says to herself "Am I having a dream or a vision, that behold, upon my lap is Emmanuel? I shall cease all else and give thanks to the Lord of the universe each day."[3] Should we do anything less on this Fourth Sunday of Advent? Let us cease all else, and give thanks to the Lord of the universe.

The responsorial Psalm and the Epistle to the Romans take us deeper still. They reveal even more of the meaning of "God with us."

The Psalm speaks of the "clean of hand and pure of heart, who are not devoted to idols." The Roman Breviary's translation of the same verse is more revealing. It speaks of "the man of clean hands and pure heart, who desires not worthless things." Who is the man of clean hands and pure heart except Jesus — the "Holy One of Israel" (Is. 1:4)? And why does God the Father give the man of clean hands and pure heart to us? Why does the Father send the Holy One of Israel to us?

The Father has given Jesus to us so that we might belong to Jesus.

Belonging to Jesus Christ

St. Paul says this in the second reading. We "are called to belong to Jesus Christ." Calling is another word for vocation. And what Blessed Teresa of Calcutta says about her sisters' religious vocation is equally true of every Christian's baptismal vocation. "Our vocation is the conviction that we belong to him," that is, belong to Jesus.[4] St. Paul writes elsewhere that "I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want" (Phil. 4:12). What is his secret? His secret is his conviction that he belongs to Jesus. "I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm. 8:38-9).

Do I have the same conviction? Does my heart cry out to Jesus "I belong to You"? Does absolutely every part of my life belong to Jesus Christ? Can I say to Jesus in prayer, "Let anything whatsoever happen to me, only let me belong to You"? If not, then it is time to surrender to Jesus. It is time to belong completely to Christ. It is time to welcome the Presence. For the Presence will create the belonging. 

As I meditate upon them, the point of all the readings of the Fourth Sunday of Advent is that we are called to share absolutely everything with Jesus — even to unimaginable depths of union.

Jesus wants us to share in His peace. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you…" (Jn. 14:27). Jesus wants us to share in His joy. "These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you…" (Jn. 15:11, cf. 17:13). Jesus wants us to share in His life. "I am the vine; you are the branches" (Jn. 15:5). Jesus wants us to have a share in His Spirit. "I will put my spirit within you" (Ez. 36:27). Jesus wants us to share in His mission. "As the Father has sent me, even so I send you" (Jn. 20:21). Jesus wants us to share in His fate. "Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal which comes upon you…But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings" (1 Pet.4:12-13). Jesus wants us to share His God, that is, His Father: "I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God" (Jn.20:17). Jesus wants us to share His glory: "Father, I desire that they also, whom thou hast given me, may be with me where I am, to behold my glory" (Jn.17:24). And beholding His glory will make us share in His glory. "And we all, with unveiled face beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another…" (2 Cor. 3:18).

Earlier we spoke of a higher kind of peace, a higher kind of joy, a higher kind of life, truth, goodness, and happiness. We spoke of how Christ whispers into His bride's ear of these higher things — the things of Christmas. And now we know what He whispers.

He whispers of His peace — peace divine. He whispers of His joy — joy divine. He whispers of His life — life divine. He whispers His word — "shining as a lamp in some dark place" (2 Pet. 1:19). The only appropriate way to celebrate the Fourth Sunday of Advent is to yield to every desire for these things of Christmas. "O God, you are my God, for you I long, for you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water" (Ps. 63:2-3, Breviary).

For Christmas is nearly here now. That day is upon us when Christ will put Himself as a babe into our hands, and say, so to speak, "welcome to my world."

The fourth video presentation accompanying this Advent series is available here or by clicking on the front page button in the right column under CE Faith Factory.

[1] Masure, Eugene. The Christian Sacrifice. trans. Trethowan, Dom Illtyd. London: Burns Oates & Washburn Ltd., 1947, p.57 

[2] St. Leo the Great, as excerpted and translated in Isaiah: Interpreted by Early Christian and Medieval Commentators, ed. Wilken, Robert Louis. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2007, p.105

[3] St. Ephrem, as excerpted and translated in Wilken (2007), p.105

[4] Teresa, Mother. Total Surrender. Ed. Scolazzi, Brother Angelo Devenanda. Cincinnati, OH: Servant Books. 1985, p.38

One book in particular could go a long way in remedying widespread ignorance of the Catholic understanding of the Eucharist — the Little Catechism on the Eucharist (New Hope, KY: New Hope Publications, 2005). All parents, grandparents, catechists, and evangelists (that means every Catholic) should know about this book. A quick review of the book will reveal the big difference that it can make for Catholics of all ages.

As the title has it, the Little Catechism on the Eucharist is primarily about the Eucharist. But since the Eucharist is the center, source, and summit of the Church's life, the Little Catechism presents the whole Catholic faith in light of the Eucharist and the Eucharist in light of the whole Catholic faith. For example, the book presents the doctrines of the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus, and the Church (Apostolic Succession), etc. Hence, the book is a mini "Intro to Catholicism".

Four Wonderful Features

Four things are especially worthy of note about the Little Catechism.

First, the Little Catechism combines both pictures and words to communicate the truths of the Church's Eucharistic faith. In its language level, the Little Catechism is intended primarily for adolescents — junior high and above. In its pictures, it is meant for children even younger. Virtually every page has one or more pastel pictures designed to illustrate some point of revealed truth. It is easy to conceive of an adolescent being intellectually capable of working through the book without an adult over his or her shoulder. But it is not difficult also to conceive of an adult working through some or all of the book together with a younger child. The higher level language would first give the adult an adult's grasp of the faith, and with that adult grasp of the faith, the adult could then help interpret the pictures for the child at an age appropriate level yet in accord with the true teachings of the Church. I have even known college age students who have read the Little Catechism with great zeal and great delight, hungering for the conceptualization of the faith that the book offers.

Second, the Little Catechism packs a powerful propositional punch. For half of the book, the Little Catechism uses the "Question-and-Answer" method. Like the old Baltimore Catechism, the Little Catechism presents,one after, another a clear question and an exact answer — plodding along one question at a time until the mind is full of illuminating and substantial knowledge of God, Jesus, and the Eucharist. But, unlike the Baltimore Catechism, the Little Catechism was composed after Vatican II and reflects details of Catholic life since the Council. For example, the Little Catechism carefully analyzes (with both Q&A as well as pictures) the structure of the Mass. But the Mass structure that it studies is the Mass of Pope Paul VI — the Mass that most Catholics today participate in. Furthermore, the Little Catechism refers to Saints who only recently have been beatified or canonized, e.g. Mother Teresa and Padre Pio. Finally, the Little Catechism reflects the Council's desire that Catholic spirituality and thinking become more Scripturally centered. The Little Catechism has a whole chapter of Q&A about the Scriptural roots of Eucharistic doctrine, and, frequently refers to Scriptural events, e.g. the Eucharistic event on the road to Emmaus (Lk.24). Finally, it seems to me that the Little Catechism also reflects the Council's desire that Catholics become more conscious of the Trinity of divine persons.

Third, the book has a lengthy section of practical instructions. For example, one chapter goes into how to dispose oneself before Mass for a fruitful reception of Holy Communion. In this context, the Little Catechism presents the Church's understanding of grace, spiritual growth in grace, the important distinction between mortal and venial sin, and the necessity of sacramental Confession before Communion when one is in a state of mortal sin. The practical instructions also cover such points as how to make a good thanksgiving after receiving Holy Communion and prayer before the Eucharist outside of Mass (e.g., Eucharistic Adoration). The practical instructions, too, are illustrated.

Fourth, and here is what really sets the book apart, the Little Catechism strives to produce enlightened conviction of the truth of the Church's teaching on the Eucharist. Fully half of the book is devoted to witnesses to the Eucharist. The witnesses are of two sorts — miracles and Saints. One quarter of the book consists of short stories of Eucharistic miracles. Another quarter of the book consists of short stories about the Saints and the difference that the Eucharist made in their heroic lives. These stories are probably accessible to children younger than junior high age. In total, the book presents fifteen Eucharistic miracles and sixteen examples of Saints and Blesseds.

A Traditional Understanding of the Eucharist

Unfortunately, and not without reason, some people think of all post-Vatican II catechesis as doctrinally empty or innovative. But in terms of what the Little Catechism puts forward as Catholic teaching, it is no revolutionary work at all. It teaches nothing other than the faith of the Apostles, and the faith of the ages, as that faith came to be understood in the Church's classical and longstanding theology. In that sense, the book is as traditional as one could get. To make the point clear, it helps to note that the theology taken as a given in the Little Catechism is none other than that of St. Thomas Aquinas — the same Eucharistic theology that was taken as a given at the Council of Trent, the same Eucharistic theology that was built into the Baltimore Catechism, the same Eucharistic theology that was taken as a given by the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council, and the same Eucharistic theology found today in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. Indeed, the Little Catechism has a whole chapter titled "Transubstantiation."

In a single, one-hundred page book, the reader will find clear questions, real answers, illustrative pictures, moving accounts of miracles, and inspiring stories of Saints. All of it is devoted to building up an intelligent and convinced Eucharistic faith. The book is endorsed by a long list of Cardinals and Bishops from as far away as Rome (Cardinal Arinze) to as near as Chicago (Cardinal George). And to these prestigious accolades, I would like to add my own small testimony.

This book is practically the definition of "solid."

The Little Catechism is available for order from New Hope Publications via the web or by phone: 1-800-764-8444.

In his Gospel, St. Luke almost always marks the end of individual events in the life of Christ with some clear signal to the reader. The first proclamation of the gospel at Nazareth, with its confrontation between Jesus and the synagogue, ends with the words "but passing through their midst he went away" (Lk 4:30). From there the text transitions to the next story. The Transfiguration ends with the words "they kept silence and told no one in those days of anything of what they had seen. The next day…" (Lk.9:36-7). And the Passion ended with the words "he breathed his last" (Lk. 23:46). The appearance of the risen Christ at Emmaus is marked as ended with the words "and he vanished out of their sight" (Lk 24:31). However, when it comes to St. Luke's account of Pentecost in the Acts of the Apostles, there is no point in the text at which one can naturally say, "Pentecost ended here."

Does Pentecost end after Peter's first preaching with the people asking what they should do (Acts 2:37)? No. For at that point Peter promises the Spirit still to come to those who repent and are baptized. Does Pentecost end with Peter and John going up to the temple to preach at the beginning of chapter 3? No. For it is there they start to work healing miracles. Does it end at any point in following chapters? No. For several times more the Spirit takes action — filling Peter (Acts 4:8), shaking the place of prayer again (Acts 4:31), and filling Stephen (Acts 6:10). The chapters are so bursting with proclamations and "signs and wonders" that throughout these chapters the sending of the Spirit is better described as a continuous presence than as a well-delineated event (although events burst forth from the presence). By leaving his account of Pentecost without any clear signal of when it was over, St. Luke intends to make a point: Pentecost is still going on.       

In the ever-present Pentecost, the Father and the Son forevermore pour forth the Lord the giver of life upon the Church. Luke tells of many works of the Spirit. The Spirit makes people speak in tongues, heal in the name of Jesus, be bold in proclamation, hold all their property in common, devote themselves to the teaching of the Apostles, enter into common prayer, break bread together, distribute alms, and abound in peace and joy. The peace and joy of the Spirit persist amidst persecution. The peace and joy even persist amidst betrayal by fellow Christians, e.g. Ananias and Sapphira. St. Paul, in his epistles, tells of more works of the Spirit. The Spirit makes manifest the secret sins of people's hearts (1 Cor. 14:23-25). The Spirit fashions us into people of "joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (Gal 5:22-23). The Spirit gives us the heart of Jesus Christ. For the Spirit makes us cry "Abba" (Rom. 8:15, Gal. 4:6). And spiritual directors down through the ages tell us of the quieter yet most important work of the Spirit — a steady growth in personal virtue.

The Church is the sign of the ever-present Pentecost. The Spirit works today as ever before. The Church is still abounding with the charismatic gifts. Miraculous healings in the name of Jesus still occur (e.g. Lourdes). Boldness of proclamation is still taking place (e.g. Pope John Paul II). Manifesting the secrets of the heart still goes on (e.g. St. Pio of Petrelcina). The holding of all things in common is far more widespread than one might initially think. There are hundreds of thousands of consecrated religious in the Church who have renounced their right to private property and hold all goods in common. Works of mercy burst forth from lay and religious alike. As for devotion to the teaching of the Apostles, Scripture groups and Catechism groups can be found in every part of the world (and we have not even mentioned private prayer with Scripture). The breaking of the bread together has been going on at every Mass for thousands of years. Other sorts of common prayer show up in prayer groups and monastic choirs. And there are many ordinary people — people one never hears about on television — whose virtue is daily growing little by little. Who moves the little flock of the Lord to bother with any of it? 

Most importantly of all, there are Catholics who carry about within them a peace and joy that the world cannot give. They see the countersigns. They see the betrayals within the Church. They see the attacks from without. They see the forces lined up against the gospel. They even see their own capacity for sin. Yet although they see all these things, nothing can take their eyes off of the face of Jesus Christ. These are the ones who, "with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into his likeness from one degree of glory to another" (2 Cor. 3: 18).

These are the witnesses.

In God's plan to save the world, God wanted to be with us in the flesh. He wanted to save us through the "Word made flesh." As part of that plan, God designed a certain woman to be the one who, at the proper time, would bear His Son, provide Him with a human nature, give birth to Him, and raise Him up. That woman is Mary. God created her and equipped her with all the graces she needed for her particular mission to be the Mother of God.

So when the angel Gabriel appeared to Mary in Nazareth, announcing her calling to bear Jesus, God's plan for being with us and saving us in the flesh depended entirely on Mary's "yes." Although God had marvelously prepared and graced Mary for this moment, it nonetheless remained her free choice to heed the call. And because it was her free choice, we can truly say that at the moment of the annunciation, our salvation was in her hands. Without Mary's freely chosen "yes", God's plan for our salvation would have been ruined.

The same is true for St. Joseph, but not at the moment of the annunciation. Because God had decided to send His Son into the world as an infant, God was exposing his infant Son to all the murderous violence of this world. And according to Scripture, at one point the murderous violence of this world went from being a general threat to being aimed at Jesus in particular. Herod and his men set out to kill the infant messiah-king. Because of their murderous intent, the life and mission of Jesus was in real danger of being snuffed out early.

But God had foreseen all this. And so in advance He designed a certain man to be the one who, at the proper time, would come to the protection of the Child and His mother. That man is Joseph. God created him and equipped him with all the graces he would need for his particular mission to be the earthly Father of Jesus. As an example of such graces, one needs only to think of Joseph's many dreams and interpretations.

So when Joseph heard from the angel in the dream, "rise, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there till I tell you" (Mt. 2:13), he was now in a situation similar to Mary at the annunciation. Although God had marvelously prepared and graced Joseph for this moment, it nonetheless remained Joseph's free choice to take action. It was his free choice to trust what he had heard in the dream. It was his free choice to heed the call to flee and to heed it immediately (Mt. 2:14 says he rose "by night" — as though on the very night he had the dream). It was his free choice to take his wife and newborn on a long, dangerous, and unplanned trip to a foreign land. And it was his free choice obediently to remain in Egypt while awaiting further notice from above. Because all of this was Joseph's free choice, we can truly say that so long as Herod lived and remained a threat to Jesus, our salvation was in Joseph's hands.

Whoever saves the King saves the kingdom. And St. Joseph saved the King.

For that, we all owe him an eternal weight of gratitude.

One time, I was in church keeping company with the Lord during an hour of Eucharistic Adoration. I was alone except for one other person — a priest in the confessional patiently waiting for someone to come. Two women came in, one in her fifties and one in her twenties. Without my noticing it, the younger woman silently slipped into the confessional. The older woman sat down in a pew some good distance away from the whisperings inside. After a bit of time, I do not know how long, the young woman virtually exploded out of the confessional. The noise of it forced me to turn my head and look. The younger woman was running toward the older woman as the latter waited there – now with arms open wide. The younger woman audibly burst into tears as she collapsed into those arms. They both sat there and cried for a while. I have never again seen tears of joy last so long as I did that day. I do not know what it was all about. But it must have felt as though a thousand years worth of sin, and guilt, and pain of had been simply wiped away.

Another time, I was helping out at a Catholic men's conference. The crowd of men numbered in the thousands. Throughout the morning, speakers were giving one powerful talk after another. At the midday break, about fifty priests were on hand to hear confessions. Due to the limits of the facilities, the confessions would have to be face-to-face and open air – no screens between penitent and priest, no walls between one confession and another three feet away. Now, men are not easily moved to lose face without a good reason. But here the men bravely lined up nonetheless. I ushered one man after another to an available priest. After awhile, I wondered when the line of penitents would ever end. When it was over, I think I easily saw a thousand men go to confession that day. I thought about it later. That was a thousand men able to raise their heads anew, a thousand men able to begin again without carrying around the shame of their past failings as a husband or father, and therefore a thousand families with a lot less baggage to deal with. How would the world change if every Catholic man did the same?

I know a young man in his twenties who was raised a Presbyterian. Growing up, of course, he never went to confession. That Catholic practice always seemed alien and strange to him. It certainly did not seem necessary or something that Jesus wanted from him. For other reasons, though, he began to make his way toward the Catholic Church. As he did so, he never looked forward to going to confession. Unfortunately, I had to move away from him several months before he began RCIA. I did not see him again for almost two years. When I did see him again, he had been a Catholic for almost a year. He was now going to the sacrament of Penance regularly. I asked him whether that sacrament had made a difference in his life and his Christian walk. He could barely contain his joy and conviction as he said, "I do not know how I ever lived without it." Because of the sacrament, everything in his relationship with Christ was different now. Everything. He groped for words to explain it — like a man who had met the living God.

It would be easy to multiply true stories like these. The point is that the sacrament of Penance has a higher kind of power to it. It has a most profound and mysterious power to heal us, convert us, change our lives, and make all things new. And it does so even when we do not feel it. It may sound crazy that meeting with a priest and telling him one's sins could have such an impact on one's life. But then again, those of us who hold and keep the Catholic faith know that going to confession is no mere meeting with a priest. This is a meeting with the Lord.

Humble Faith Is the First Step

Among their many points, one in particular is intriguing. Just as human life develops in stages — infancy, childhood, adolescence, and adulthood — so too life in the Spirit develops in stages. The Beatitudes, according to St. Augustine and St. Maximus the Confessor, present the developmental stages of life in the Spirit. To see their point, I here present some reflections on Matthew’s Beatitudes — reflections drawn mostly from the Catena Aurea, but mingled with my own.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Broken, weak, frail, lacking, dependent, vulnerable, self-insufficient, humble: these are the characteristics of the poor in spirit — the anawim or the little ones. The little ones have nothing of their own. And they know it. They do not live as if they are in control of everything. They do not live as if they are in control of their own lives, their own things, or even their own bodies. Their poverty of spirit makes faith easy. Humble faith is the first step in life in the Spirit. The reward of faith is to dwell in the Kingdom of Heaven. The Kingdom of Heaven is “righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Rom 14:17). By the power of the Spirit dwelling in our hearts by faith, hope, and charity, Christ the King rules the lives of His faithful little ones. He rules their bodies, their minds, their passions, their desires, and their possessions. He rules not by force of threat, but by His love working within the soul. He directs one’s steps and carves one’s being into something awesome — a living image of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It all begins here: “the sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps 51:17).

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. After giving in to being poor in spirit, and receiving Christ in faith, after entering into the Kingdom, the Spirit goes to work like a refiner’s fire. Sin, destructive attachments, destructive relationships, destructive attitudes — whatever is unbecoming a human being is stripped away. Once viewed as essential to one’s happiness, these destructive things have become customary parts of our lives. Now they are taken away. So there results an initial mourning, the sadness of asking, “How can I live without these things?” The person weeps for his sins, and weeps upon recognizing the many inroads that sin has carved into the soul. But God demands nothing that He does not also give the grace to accomplish. The Spirit forges within us new desires for the things of Christ. And so as our desire for old comforts passes away, our sadness at their loss also passes away. Thus we find comfort. Throughout our trials of loss, as well, Christ comforts us with the consolation that things are being made new (Rv 21:5). Christ consoles us with a sense of His kindness, compassion, presence, and closeness to us. St. Augustine describes this moment of consolation well. Once he decided to let go of the pleasant toxin of sin, he says “suddenly it had become sweet to me to be without the sweets of folly. What I once feared to lose was now a delight to dismiss” (Confessions, Bk. IX, ch.1).

The Attitude of Mercy

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. The meek are those who do not resist wrongs. The meek do not give in to returning sin for sin. The meek overcome evil by doing good. The meek do not seek the destruction but the true happiness of their enemies. They stand firm in goodness in the face of threats and attack. Christ says “learn of Me for I am meek and humble of heart” (Mt 11:29). The Passion is the ultimate display of meekness. Despite all the hostility of His persecutors, Jesus seeks their good and their welfare. The reward of such meekness is to inherit the earth. Christ inherited the earth at His Ascension when He sat down at the right hand of the Father in glory. In this life, the earth we inherit is a rightly disposed soul, free of internal conflicts and disordered passions. In the next life, we inherit heaven.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. After learning meekness, the Spirit expands our desires. The hunger for Christ, who is the source of all righteousness, becomes even deeper and even more intense. The soul longs for perfect righteousness — both in oneself and in others. Great expectations grow, and God satisfies them. In this life, He satiates our hunger for Christ with the Eucharist. He slakes our thirst for justice and righteousness with His Spirit — who makes our souls and our lives just and righteous. Thus we are satisfied, but hopefully not self-satisfied. There is lurking here the danger of the self-satisfaction of the self-righteous. The antidote is in the next stage.

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. The desire for righteousness matures into a disposition to show mercy. “Mercy” actually means sadness of heart over the miseries of others. The merciful are those who count the afflictions of others as their own, and actively seek to alleviate others from their misery. Mercy is love healing people’s afflictions. To heal people’s afflictions precisely because of personal love for Jesus is the activity peculiar to Christians. From the attitude of mercy flow the many works of mercy. The loving kindness, the mercy of God, is made real to others through our merciful works. God rewards our mercy towards others with His mercy towards us. He alleviates our misery: casts out ignorance with His truth, drives out loneliness with His friendship, mends our broken minds with His peace, and fills us with a love that takes joy in the truth.

Pure, Peaceable, Persecuted

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Because God shows His mercy towards us, our hearts are purified. To be pure in heart is to have singleness of purpose, i.e. to do all that one does for one reason alone — for the love of the Holy Trinity. The attraction of the many finite goods of this world loses its grip on us as the infinite goodness of God captivates our souls with an all-consuming thirst for Him. The Spirit draws us from concern for many things into concern for only one thing — to love God perfectly. The reward of such purity is to see Trinitarian love. To see Trinitarian love is to know a love that surpasses everything. In this life, we see this Love with the eyes of the heart. In the next life we see Him face to face.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God. Having developed such single-mindedness in our purpose, such purity, the Spirit moves us to build up peace. Peace is the tranquility that results when everything is in the right order, and the work of the peacemaker is to put things in their right order. The peacemakers strive first to establish the right order of things within their own souls, and then to establish right order between others — to reconcile enemies to one another, and to cultivate the right relationships between people. God rewards our efforts by making us sons of God. Just as a son is the likeness of his Father, so too, as adopted children of the Father, we become likenesses of the Father. We become agents of a higher and more profound peace — the peace that consists of reconciliation with the Father. To be reconciled with the Father through Christ is the only true peace in this life. And where there is God and the sons of God, there must be a family. Those who set their hearts upon Christ dwell in brotherly love.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on My account, for your reward will be great in heaven. Finally, after having become poor, meek, hungry, merciful, pure, and peacemaking, the Spirit leads us to sacrifice everything to the Father — just as Christ did. There are two sorts of martyrdom — red and white. Red martyrdom is bloody, and the Spirit gives this gift to a few. White martyrdom is unbloody, and takes the form of insult, mockery, slander, lies, rejection, suspicion, criticism, and a thousand forms of contempt for the name of Christ. Only by the Spirit working within us, moving us through the path of the Beatitudes, could we ever live through being persecuted for Christ without losing the love we have in our hearts, without losing the joy that comes from the presence of Christ within us. But the Spirit leads us to and through persecution, and empowers us to sacrifice everything with loving joy and joyful love for Christ.

© Copyright 2006 Catholic Exchange

Br. James Brent, O.P. is a Dominican Friar living at the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, DC. He is a student brother in formation for the priesthood and is a member of the Province of St. Joseph (Eastern Province). Please visit the Dominican Student Brothers' website at www.dominicanstudents.org.

The Divine Mercy

On the evening of Easter, Jesus appeared to His Apostles and said, “‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent Me, even so I send you.’ And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained’” (Jn 20:21-23). In this moment Jesus conferred upon the Apostles His own ability to forgive sins. The Apostles now shared Jesus’ ability to apply divine mercy to souls like doctors applying medicine to patients’ bodies.

The ability to forgive sins passes down through history from the Apostles to their successors — the bishops. From the bishops it passes to today’s priests through the Sacrament of Holy Orders. By giving His Apostles the ability to forgive sins, Jesus established the Sacrament of Penance (also called Confession or Reconciliation). But why did Jesus give us this sacrament? It seems He could have told us all just to go into our rooms, shut the door, ask God for forgiveness, and be done with it. Why did He not set things up that way? It would have been less personally revealing and less embarrassing. Why make it so that I have to go to a priest? Why can’t I go directly to Jesus?

Jesus said “I am the vine, you are the branches” (Jn 15:5). Jesus fashioned all the sacraments so that by them we might receive a share in His life — like a branch living off of a vine. In baptism, we receive the life of Christ for the first time. This life of Christ is a life in the Spirit, a life of intimacy with the Trinity, and a life of sharing in the Church. Jesus knew, however, that through sin people would damage or even forfeit the life they had received in baptism. The main point of the Sacrament of Confession is to receive the divine mercy. Divine mercy strengthens the life of Christ damaged by (venial) sin and gives back the life lost by (mortal) sin.

The Chosen Instrument

To see the wisdom of Jesus in establishing the sacrament, it helps to think of Jesus like a doctor. Just as doctors use instruments to perform their healing work, so too Jesus uses instruments to perform His healing work. Just as doctors choose to use some kinds of instruments and avoid others, so too it helps to think of Jesus as wanting to use one kind of instrument in particular for the work of applying divine mercy to us. He wants to use a sacrament as His instrument.

By a sacrament I mean a sign that signifies what it causes and causes what it signifies. For example, the words “I love you” signify love — that is their meaning. But they also cause in the listening person the love that they signify. The listener receives the love signified by receiving the sign that signifies the love. Jesus intended to make the reception of divine mercy the same way.

In the Sacrament of Penance, the priest represents or signifies Jesus. The words “I absolve you” signify the word of mercy that Jesus utters. When the priest says “I absolve you,” the priest’s action of saying those words is a sign signifying Jesus speaking His word of mercy at that moment. Like the action of saying “I love you,” the priest’s action both signifies Jesus’ own forgiving and also causes what it signifies. The priest’s action causes Jesus’ own forgiveness and Jesus’ own soul-healing in the recipient. In this way, Jesus uses the priest and his words as an instrument by which to breathe upon us the Holy Spirit, to strengthen His life within us if it was weakened, and to revive His life in us if it was lost. Thinking of it this way, it is easy to see the main reason why Jesus chose to use a sacrament as His instrument of mercy.

The main reason is that a sacrament of mercy provides a concrete and physical way for us to meet Jesus Himself — as friend to friend and as patient to physician. If we think of the Sacrament of Penance without the faith of the Church (as Protestants do), then we do not think of the sacrament as Jesus coming to touch us with His instrument of mercy. We instead think of ourselves merely as our going to a man — the priest. But if a doctor touches us with a stethoscope, truly it is the doctor who touches us and not merely the stethoscope. Likewise, if we remember from our Catholic faith that Jesus uses the priests and their words as His instruments of mercy, we realize that in the sacrament it is Jesus who touches us with His soul-healing love. It is Jesus who floods us with His spirit and life. Unless we think in terms of the Church’s faith that the sacrament is Christ’s instrument, we do not realize that in this wonderful sacrament we have a concrete and physical way of turning to Jesus Himself, being touched by Jesus Himself, and hence encountering Jesus for ourselves. Now there are several reasons why Jesus wants us to meet Him in the concrete and physical way that we do in the Sacrament of Penance.

Meeting Christ

First, a sacrament makes intangible things to be tangible. Our customary way of knowing things is through our senses. Unless something is conveyed to our senses, we have a hard time accepting its reality. Sacraments use tangible things to signify intangible realities. In Confession, for example, the tangible priest and tangible words signify the presence of intangible divine mercy. By bestowing His mercy upon us in a sacrament, Jesus makes His mercy real to us — real to our senses.

Second, a sacrament provides a way for one to be reconciled with the whole community of the faithful. Personal sin wounds the Church. It causes all Christians to look bad, it makes it hard for others to find Christ in us, it weakens our confidence in our mission, weakens our response to our vocation, and tempts other people into sin. We owe the whole community of the faithful an apology for our sins. A personal encounter between priests and penitents in the sacrament provides the way for the apology to happen.

Third, a sacrament provides a way for sinners to acknowledge their sins in front of another person in the flesh, to name their sins to another, and to renounce their sins before another. Doing each of these things powerfully contributes to conversion and strengthens our resolve to change our way of living.

Fourth, a sacrament of mercy provides a great way for one to become humble. Jesus foresaw that requiring the confession of secret sins would cause us some embarrassment. But He saw too that the embarrassment does us no real harm and may actually be helpful. It damages nothing but one’s over-inflated ego. It may be helpful because the short-term embarrassment of confession cultivates the long-term virtue of humility. For the embarrassment tends to diminish the arrogance to which we all are prone.

Finally, a sacrament of mercy has many wonderful side effects (depending on how it is ministered — practices vary throughout history). It provides a forum for counsel about sensitive moral matters, encouragement in the quest for holiness, and therapeutic conversation about one’s flaws. Each of these beneficial side effects is possible only because Jesus decided to use other human beings as His instruments for conferring His mercy upon sinners after their baptism.

The main reason Jesus established the Sacrament of Penance was to provide a concrete and physical way for us to meet Him for ourselves to obtain divine mercy. He wanted the way to be a concrete and physical because of the five reasons just given. Now each of these five reasons is a good thing. They make us happy in the long run — even though they may sting a little for a moment. But these things would all be missing if the way to obtain divine mercy were simply going to one’s room, shutting the door, and asking God for forgiveness in private. In order to make His mercy overflow with all these good things, Jesus chose to use a certain instrument for applying His mercy to us. Only one particular instrument brings with it all the good things spelled out above. And that instrument is the Sacrament of Penance. That is why Jesus wants us to meet Him in the confessional.

© Copyright 2006 Catholic Exchange

Br. James Brent, O.P. is a Dominican Friar living at the Dominican House of Studies in Washington, D.C. He is a student brother in formation for the Priesthood and is a member of the Province of St. Joseph (Eastern Province). Please visit the Dominican Student Brothers website at www.dominicanstudents.org.