The Senate version of health-care reform currently being forced ahead by congressional leaders and the White House is a bad bill that will result in bad law.  It does not deserve, nor does it have, the support of the Catholic bishops of our country.  Nor does the American public want it.  As I write this column on March 14, the Senate bill remains gravely flawed.  It does not meet minimum moral standards in at least three important areas: the exclusion of abortion funding and services; adequate conscience protections for health-care professionals and institutions; and the inclusion of immigrants.

Groups, trade associations and publications describing themselves as “Catholic” or “prolife” that endorse the Senate version – whatever their intentions – are doing a serious disservice to the nation and to the Church, undermining the witness of the Catholic community; and ensuring the failure of genuine, ethical health-care reform.  By their public actions, they create confusion at exactly the moment Catholics need to think clearly about the remaining issues in the health-care debate.  They also provide the illusion of moral cover for an unethical piece of legislation.

As we enter a critical week in the national health-care debate, Catholics across northern Colorado need to remember a few simple facts.

First, the Catholic bishops of the United States have pressed for real national health-care reform in this country for more than half a century.  They began long before either political party or the public media found it convenient.  That commitment hasn’t changed.  Nor will it.

Second, the bishops have tried earnestly for more than seven months to work with elected officials to craft reform that would serve all Americans in a manner respecting minimum moral standards.  The failure of their effort has one source.  It comes entirely from the stubbornness and evasions of certain key congressional leaders, and the unwillingness of the White House to honor promises made by the president last September.

Third, the health-care reform debate has never been merely a matter of party politics.  Nor is it now.  Democratic Congressman Bart Stupak and a number of his Democratic colleagues have shown extraordinary character in pushing for good health-care reform while resisting attempts to poison it with abortion-related entitlements and other bad ideas that have nothing to do with real “health care.”  Many Republicans share the goal of decent health-care reform, even if their solutions would differ dramatically.  To put it another way, few persons seriously oppose making adequate health services available for all Americans.  But God, or the devil, is in the details — and by that measure, the current Senate version of health-care reform is not merely defective, but also a dangerous mistake.

The long, unpleasant and too often dishonest national health-care debate is now in its last days.  Its most painful feature has been those “Catholic” groups that by their eagerness for some kind of deal undercut the witness of the Catholic community and help advance a bad bill into a bad law. Their flawed judgment could now have damaging consequences for all of us.

Do not be misled.  The Senate version of health-care reform currently being pushed ahead by congressional leaders and the White House — despite public resistance and numerous moral concerns — is bad law; and not simply bad, but dangerous.  It does not deserve, nor does it have, the support of the Catholic bishops in our country, who speak for the believing Catholic community.  In its current content, the Senate version of health-care legislation is not “reform.”  Catholics and other persons of good will concerned about the foundations of human dignity should oppose it.

Those who are given to such language today would probably call my father a victim of an “obsessive-compulsive disorder.” I do not think that he was, but nevertheless it serves our purpose to use this as an example, an example with which many of you, I suspect, are familiar. If you think in terms of such an obsessive-compulsive disorder but add to it a spiritual and, most particularly, a moral component then you have what we call “scrupulosity.”

Scrupulosity is so-called because the Latin word scrupulus means a sharp little stone. Everyone knows what it is like to have a little sharp stone in a shoe. It can be the most expensive pair of shoes in the world, but that little stone ruins everything. You might be able to walk for miles, but it is killing you all the time. It is like having a tiny little speck in your eye. It’s a scrupulus, a tiny, little, sharp stone. Those who experience scrupulosity experience this tiny, little, sharp stone, as it were, in their consciences, in their very beings, which keeps them constantly anxious, constantly concerned and, above all, constantly afraid. This is why we are reflecting on scrupulosity this morning.

At the beginning of Lent we said that we would be speaking of forgiveness and reconciliation on each of the Sundays of Lent. This is one of the main purposes of Lent: forgiveness and reconciliation given to us by the magnificence of the sacrifice of Christ, his crucifixion and death on the cross that brought about the resurrection. We all seek forgiveness, and during Lent we petition, most particularly, for forgiveness of all the sins of the past and for reconciliation. But most of us do this without a constant gnawing or overwhelming fear.

Those of us caught up in scrupulosity honestly believe that forgiveness is impossible for us; God himself can not forgive us despite the crucifixion of his Son. It is quite conceivable that not one single person in this cathedral, at this moment, needs a reflection on scrupulosity. If so, count your blessings because as any confessor, any clinical psychologist, any psychiatrist can tell us, there are a huge number of people in our culture, even in this highly permissive, highly promiscuous culture, who suffer the terrible burden of scrupulosity. It is quite possible that there is someone here who knows instantly what I am talking about.

Scrupulosity always involves fear: fear of dying without being able to get to confession, fear of not being forgiven by Almighty God, fear of going to hell. If anyone needs an awareness of the mercy, the gentleness, the love, the forgiveness of Almighty God it is a scrupulous person. One might ask, How is it in this highly permissive, promiscuous society in which the media so often set the norm–what we see in the movies, on television often dismiss the very idea of sin, ridicule some of the most sacred beliefs of our faith–how can it be that in this culture people of all ages can experience this pain, this suffering of scrupulosity? You think it would be exactly the opposite. But it is quite conceivable that because of the permissiveness and the promiscuity of our culture more and more people tighten up so that they feel they must try to protect themselves not only from the culture but from God, himself.

There is a fascinating book on scrupulosity written by a psychologist, William Van Ornum, Ph.D., called “A Thousand Frightening Fantasies.” It is a book that some people are finding very helpful. It has been given rave reviews by psychiatrists, psychologists, counselors and confessors. I want to read a few passages that are very illustrative of what I am talking about.

At one point in this book it is said that scrupulosity is like an airport that is always open. That is a good example. No sooner does one airplane leave than another one is ready to take off. No sooner does one airplane come in and land than another one comes along to land. So it is with the person who is constantly worried about some problem of conscience. He or she might get rid of this particular matter, might talk to a priest, might talk to a counselor, to a therapist, to a psychologist but then another problem quickly comes along to take its place.

Dr. Van Ornum did a survey of an organization that you might not know ever existed called “Scrupulous Anonymous.” It is much like Alcoholics Anonymous or Over-Eaters Anonymous. He received replies from a thousand people and discovered and verified everything that he had learned in his work. They depicted immense suffering and anguish caused by scrupulosity.

“Perhaps most sad is that 50 percent reported that scrupulosity had a severe or a very severe effect on romance; 54 percent noted a severe or a very severe effect on marriage. …

“Many people with [scrupulosity] believe they have wasted years. They lost friends, love, time with children, work, recreation and hobbies, and sacramental participation. This is tragic. …”

So, for example, we read:

“People with [scrupulosity] in the survey expressed loneliness and feeling apart from others. Many never met another person like themselves. Many longed to talk with a kindred spirit.”

This is one of the reasons I am talking about this today. So many people hide this moral, this spiritual debility. I am not sure I have ever heard a priest give a homily on scrupulosity, and that I think is unfortunate. One individual said:

” ‘I was eleven and everybody was playing baseball, having fun. I knew I was the only kid that was worrying about mortal sin. I wished I could just play and have fun like everyone else. …’

“Several respondents reported a predicament when they became engaged. They wondered, ‘Should I tell my fiance? How much should I say? Will he [or she] break it off when he [or she] learns’?

“One respondent reported fears that his friends don’t know:

” ‘I worry excessively about breaking the Communion fast. When I receive Communion, I worry about particles of the Host remaining on my hand. I worry about bad thoughts. I worry about breaking the Church law about the Sabbath. These concerns take the joy out of my life.’ ”

One respondent over 80 years old said she “hid her scrupulosity for her entire life.”

Another respondent said:

” ‘When I go to Mass, I must be perfect. There must be no rips in my clothes. I worry if the priest or deacon does his job right. Is it a valid Mass? The dismissal prayers cause me concern. I worry that the deacon forgot to say “The Mass is ended” or said the words in the wrong order.’ ” [To some perhaps these might sound like foolish fears. To others, as the title of the book says, these are "frightening fantasies."]

“Internally, …[many people] curse God. … [They] radiate anger and bitterness toward God. Internally, they curse their condition. They wonder why God selected them for torment. …”

Another stated:

” ‘My image of God is a punishing God. I feel He watches my every move and waits for me to sin. He marks it in a book in Heaven. I cannot escape the punishment I know I deserve.’

“People with [scrupulosity] create rituals…[thinking they] have a magical quality. For instance, by saying a rosary twice they believe God will spare them from sickness. [Often in such cases it is not the devotion with which they pray, it is the numbers that count.] By reciting ten Hail Marys [not nine, not eleven], they feel they can control their anger toward their aged mother who makes daily demands from the nursing home. By going to church every day and three times on weekends, they hope to garner prosperity.”

For many of these individuals, numbers are magic.

“One man wrote: ‘I must complete a set formula of prayers. I can’t talk to anyone until I’ve finished.’ I recently saw one man [says this psychologist] who felt compelled to crack his knuckles five times, but only after he cracked his toes five times. …”

This is not limited to those of us who are ordinary people. A number of the saints had problems with scrupulosity: the great St. Catherine, St. Alphonsus of Liguori, even St. Ignatius who founded the Jesuits. Here is a very interesting observation that is played out so often. Sometimes people with scrupulosity get so fed up they sin or act out in extreme ways.

“Scrupulosity is like water torture. The constant dripping wears down even the strongest [individual]. When this happens some sufferers rebel. They commit real mortal sins. They get drunk and don’t care. [You may see this often. "Everybody thinks I am drinking and if I take one little drink I worry about it and worry about it so I may as well just get completely plastered." And they do.] This provides short-term diversion, but they feel worse afterward. One respondent offered words of encouragement to others in this situation: ‘Having sinned mortally, now I know how scruples differ. I can tell the difference.’ ”

But there are those who are driven to sexual promiscuity, those who are driven to all sorts of excesses because they say, “I have the name, I may as well have the game. I am going to hell anyway, so I may as well enjoy myself.” Many, many people feel impossibly frustrated in this fashion.

There is a woman named Kathleen Zraly, an eating-disorder specialist, who has a doctorate in psychology from Fordham University. When asked if scrupulosity still exists she says, “Yes, I think more so than any of us have an idea.” She gives this as an example.

“Women continue to be socialized to be perfect, to carry the ball in all areas. Women with eating disorders display perfection that is a form of scrupulosity. They’re never good enough. They’re never pretty enough. Women are socialized that way, and the media reinforce this message.”

This gives us one of the fundamental causes for scrupulosity. It itself is a horrifying condition, the belief that we are intrinsically no good. We may be considered the most brilliant people in the world, the most handsome people, the most beautiful people, the most talented people, but beneath the surface we feel we are no good. Therefore everything we do is evil and sinful. It does not matter how much praise we get. We are convinced that we are absolutely useless. Not only that nobody loves us, but that we are incapable of being loved for ourselves as persons. It is the thought, “If anybody knew what I am really like inside then that person would hate me, even God.”

There is a description of a physician who is a practicing pediatrician who writes:

” ‘Two major events in my life exacerbated my scrupulosity. I felt guilty on entering medical school because I had cheated on some college exams. I’m still guilty about that although I am a good pediatrician and have a loyal patient following. …’

“A college teacher in Scotland wrote:

” ‘I have never really been able to trust in the love of God. I am afraid that God will pull the carpet out from under me. …

” ‘I grew up with a distorted conscience on sex. What if this is a sin? What if it isn’t? I flitted from book to book looking for answers. I found none. …’

“A fifty-two-year-old police captain stated: ‘I worry about what is sinful. I worry about sinful thoughts, discussions, or actions in my employment as a police captain and supervisor. I worry when I go to confession whether I might have omitted something.’

“A thirty-seven-year-old female naval officer reported: ‘I have recurrent thoughts which keep coming which I fear are sinful. This causes me to spend time analyzing them to decide if they’re sinful, and it causes me anxiety and worry.’ ”

A mathematician gives his story. A director of religious education reported, “Every time I do something I suspect is wrong, even if it isn’t, I feel guilty and feel I’ll get zapped.”

“A forty-nine-year-old nurse wrote:

” ‘Today my scrupulosity…is like being alcoholic–one day at a time. Previously, I was always afraid of my doing wrong, especially in areas like possibly harming people…[so] I became paralyzed to act.’

“A forty-two-year-old diplomat stated: ‘People view me as successful and a fast riser in my career. Scrupulosity has been a severe detriment to achieving a balanced life…’ ”

A 59-year-old woman microbiologist writes in similar fashion.

This is a real spiritual illness, truly debilitating. Above all it fills us with fear, fear of Almighty God.

What could this possibly have to do with today’s extraordinary Gospel [Jn. 4:5-42] about the Samaritan woman, the woman who had been “married five times but had never really been married”? To her our Lord says, “The man you are living with now is not your husband.” What would that have to do with scrupulosity?

Often those who engage in extensive sexual promiscuity do so trying to prove themselves. “I am no good but at least maybe someone will want me for this particular reason. I will give myself in this fashion.”

In this Gospel, we find that this woman does things that scrupulous people do with Almighty God–she plays games with the Lord. She tries to fence with him. “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan. How come you are even talking to me? Jews are not to talk to Samaritans.” Ah, if you knew who it is who is talking to you! “Give me some water,” Jesus says. She says, “You want me to use my bucket to get water? Jews are not supposed to drink water out of a bucket that belongs to a Samaritan.” And so on. She was avoiding the issues, avoiding the fact that she has lived with five or six men, avoiding the fact that our Divine Lord is confronting her with the truth. But what is the truth with which he is confronting her? With his love, with his mercy, with his compassion. Initially, she thinks she is beyond that.

Then suddenly, because of our Lord’s great grace and mercy, it hits her. She runs to tell all the other people, “I have found the Messiah!” Because of things that our Lord said to her, because of his word, she believed she had found the Messiah. This is of the very nature of our Divine Lord and this is what Lent is all about.

This Gospel is the perfect summary of Lent–an encounter with Christ in which ultimately we are moved toward pleading for his forgiveness because we know that he has come to suffer and to die for us and that the God who gave his Son to be so horribly tortured and put to death for us is the same God who does not want to see us lost. Christ came to pick up the pieces of broken lives, your life and my life–not to condemn us. But he wants us to ask his forgiveness, in the confessional if this is necessary, outside the confessional if that is adequate. We are not going to ask forgiveness unless we believe we need forgiveness and unless we believe he will grant forgiveness.

This story is the great reminder that God is love, that love drives out fear. If there be any here who are afraid, whether victims of the spiritual disease of scrupulosity or not, if there are any here who are afraid, it is our Divine Lord himself who says to us as, in essence, he would say to the Samaritan woman, “Be not afraid. God is love. God drives out fear. Come to me for my mercy. Come to me to be bathed in my love

This is the text of John Cardinal O’Connor’s homily at Sunday Mass in St. Patrick’s Cathedral March 7, 1999.

“In order to live life to the full, something more intimate is necessary that can be granted only as a gift: we could say that man lives by that love which only God can communicate since he created the human person in his image and likeness.
“Material goods are certainly useful and required—indeed Jesus himself was concerned to heal the sick, feed the crowds that followed him and surely condemns the indifference that even today forces hundreds of millions into death through lack of food, water and medicine—yet ‘distributive’ justice does not render to the human being the totality of his ‘due.’

“Just as man needs bread, so does man have even more need of God. St. Augustine notes: if ‘justice is that virtue which gives every one his due … where, then, is the justice of man, when he deserts the true God?’
“The Evangelist Mark reports the following words of Jesus, which are inserted within the debate at that time regarding what is pure and impure: ‘There is nothing outside a man which by going into him can defile him; but the things which come out of a man are what defile him. … What comes out of a man is what defiles a man. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts’.

“Beyond the immediate question concerning food, we can detect in the reaction of the Pharisees a permanent temptation within man: to situate the origin of evil in an exterior cause. Many modern ideologies deep down have this presupposition: since injustice comes ‘from outside,’ in order for justice to reign, it is sufficient to remove the exterior causes that prevent it being achieved.

“This way of thinking—Jesus warns—is ingenuous and short-sighted. Injustice, the fruit of evil, does not have exclusively external roots; its origin lies in the human heart, where the seeds are found of a mysterious co-operation with evil. With bitterness the Psalmist recognizes this: ‘Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.’

“Indeed, man is weakened by an intense influence, which wounds his capacity to enter into communion with the other. By nature, he is open to sharing freely, but he finds in his being a strange force of gravity that makes him turn in and affirm himself above and against others: this is egoism, the result of original sin.

“Adam and Eve, seduced by Satan’s lie, snatching the mysterious fruit against the divine command, replaced the logic of trusting in Love with that of suspicion and competition; the logic of receiving and trustfully expecting from the Other with anxiously seizing and doing on one’s own, experiencing, as a consequence, a sense of disquiet and uncertainty. How can man free himself from this selfish influence and open himself to love?

“At the heart of the wisdom of Israel, we find a profound link between faith in God who ‘lifts the needy from the ash heap’ and justice towards one’s neighbor. The Hebrew word itself that indicates the virtue of justice, ‘sedaqah,’ expresses this well. ‘Sedaqah,’ in fact, signifies on the one hand full acceptance of the will of the God of Israel; on the other hand, equity in relation to one’s neighbor, especially the poor, the stranger, the orphan and the widow.

“But the two meanings are linked because giving to the poor for the Israelite is none other than restoring what is owed to God, who had pity on the misery of his people. It was not by chance that the gift to Moses of the tablets of the Law on Mount Sinai took place after the crossing of the Red Sea. Listening to the Law presupposes faith in God who first ‘heard the cry’ of his people and ‘came down to deliver them out of hand of the Egyptians.’

“God is attentive to the cry of the poor and in return asks to be listened to: He asks for justice towards the poor, the stranger, the slave. In order to … enter into justice, it is thus necessary to leave that illusion of self-sufficiency, the profound state of closure, which is the very origin of injustice. In other words, what is needed is an even deeper ‘exodus’ than that accomplished by God with Moses, a liberation of the heart, which the Law on its own is powerless to realize. Does man have any hope of justice then?

“The Christian Good News responds positively to man’s thirst for justice, as St. Paul affirms in the Letter to the Romans: ‘But now the justice of God has been manifested apart from law … the justice of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction; since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, they are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as an expiation by his blood, to be received by faith.’

“What then is the justice of Christ? Above all, it is the justice that comes from grace, where it is not man who makes amends, heals himself and others. The fact that ‘expiation’ flows from the ‘blood’ of Christ signifies that it is not man’s sacrifices that free him from the weight of his faults, but the loving act of God who opens himself in the extreme, even to the point of bearing in himself the ‘curse’ due to man so as to give in return the ‘blessing’ due to God.
“But this raises an immediate objection: what kind of justice is this where the just man dies for the guilty and the guilty receives in return the blessing due to the just one? Would this not mean that each one receives the contrary of his ‘due’? In reality, here we discover divine justice, which is so profoundly different from its human counterpart. God has paid for us the price of the exchange in his Son, a price that is truly exorbitant.

“Before the justice of the Cross, man may rebel for this reveals how man is not a self-sufficient being, but in need of Another in order to realize himself fully. Conversion to Christ, believing in the Gospel, ultimately means this: to exit the illusion of self-sufficiency in order to discover and accept one’s own need—the need of others and God, the need of his forgiveness and his friendship.

“So we understand how faith is altogether different from a natural, good-feeling, obvious fact: humility is required to accept that I need Another to free me from ‘what is mine’, to give me gratuitously ‘what is His.’ This happens especially in the sacraments of reconciliation and the Eucharist.

“Thanks to Christ’s action, we may enter into the ‘greatest’ justice, which is that of love, the justice that recognizes itself in every case more a debtor than a creditor, because it has received more than could ever have been expected. Strengthened by this very experience, the Christian is moved to contribute to creating just societies, where all receive what is necessary to live according to the dignity proper to the human person and where justice is enlivened by love.

“Dear brothers and sisters, Lent culminates in the Paschal Triduum, in which this year, too, we shall celebrate divine justice—the fullness of charity, gift, salvation. May this penitential season be for every Christian a time of authentic conversion and intense knowledge of the mystery of Christ, who came to fulfill every justice. With these sentiments, I cordially impart to all of you my apostolic blessing.”

Our vocation as Christians is not simply to pass along good morals to our children, or convey a sense of God’s hand in the world. These things are vital, of course, but they don’t exhaust our purpose for being here. Our mission is to bring the world to Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ to the world. Each of us is a missionary, and our primary task is the conversion of our own hearts and the hearts of others so that someday the whole world will acknowledge Jesus Christ as humanity’s only savior and Lord.

That’s a big job. We can’t do it by just talking about it, any more than Christ could redeem us by writing an essay on sin. The Gospels have power because they tell the story of what God did; what his only Son did; and what Christ’s followers did. The Passion accounts of Christ’s suffering and death move us so deeply because they show in bitter detail how unashamedly God loves us.

This is the hot spark at the heart of every other sincere attempt to tell the story of our redemption. God spared not even his own Son in saving us. No wonder the cross draws the eye of great artists again and again down through the centuries. The blood of the cross reminds us that—at least on one day in history—love had no limits. And since then, everything has been different.

God built the Church we’ve inherited through the love of generations of believers. Their witness made our faith possible. It’s now our turn to shape the future by the zeal we bring to our own daily witness. It’s our turn to act. It’s our turn to live our Catholic faith with all the courage and strength Christ brought to loving the Church he founded.

Later this month, Feb. 26-27, Catholics from around Colorado and the Rocky Mountain region will gather in Denver for our annual Living the Catholic Faith Conference. This is one of the most important teaching, learning and fellowship events of our life as a diocesan community of faith.

With a list of outstanding sessions and speakers—Dr. Tim Gray on “the vocation of a teacher,” Dr. Janet Smith on “the family as a path to holiness,” San Antonio’s Auxiliary Bishop Oscar Cantu heading up an excellent Spanish-language track, along with a variety of very practical and timely workshops—the conference is the perfect place to nourish our faith and renew our discipleship.

The 2010 conference theme is “I have chosen you” (Jn 15: 16), and the constant improvement in attendance and content of this valuable conference over the past decade witnesses to the hunger our people have to hear and do God’s will.

The Church depends on God who will always protect her. But she also depends on you and me—teachers, pastors, deacons, catechists, parents and devoted single Catholics—to carry Christ’s mission into the world. Words are cheap. Actions matter. It’s time to live our Catholic faith as the apostles did—and through it, to reshape the world.

The 2010 Living the Catholic Faith Conference is the place where that work can begin.

Sometimes the problem becomes deeper.  When the public takes up these ways of thinking, then the truth is distorted, or presented as so true it cannot be questioned or denied.

Let me give some examples. When the public debate began over the weather temperatures ten or twenty years ago, many spoke of the “greenhouse effect”.  A friend of mine used to grow his orchids in such a glass house and we understood the extra heat generated inside and feared for the polar ice caps.

“Global warming” became the preferred term in the absence of dramatic deterioration and as global temperatures did not rise again in the last decade “climate change” replaced global warming as the preferred term.

So today those who doubt that human activity changes global weather are often libelled as “climate change deniers”.  In fact no one denies the climate can and does change.

Because the word is spreading that carbon dioxide is not a pollutant we are now urged to reduce our “carbon footprint”.  But carbon dioxide is different to that carcinogenic black stuff on burnt toast.  It is easier to black guard carbon than carbon dioxide.

Global warming provides the worst examples of propagandists capturing the language.  But we find others.

The small but powerful homosexual lobby which is battling to undermine the proper privileged position of marriage refers to homosexuals as gays.  In fact there is no evidence they are happier than the rest of the population.

So too it is often implied that all discrimination is unjust.  But everyone discriminates regularly and discrimination is essential to every society and especially societies which cherish freedom.

We all choose our friends and society imprisons criminals.  The best students are chosen for demanding university courses and only our best athletes represent Australia.

The practice of groups, including churches employing staff who support their aims does not need “an exemption” in law, but the protection of the basic right to freedom of choice and association, and to religious freedom.

Much discrimination is just.  No one claims the Labor Party must employ Liberal Party staffers.

The name game can have unfortunate consequences when we get it wrong.

News of the birth of someone who might be a rival for his power moved King Herod to try to discover who the newborn king might be in order to destroy him. He sent three wealthy foreigners to Bethlehem and asked them to come back with the information he needed. When the three foreign wise men didn’t come back to him, he took steps to be sure all his future rivals were killed. The church celebrates the feast of the Holy Innocents on Dec. 28. To rescue the infant Jesus from Herod, St. Joseph took Mary and Jesus to a foreign land until Herod died (see Mt 2: 1-20).

In civil society, we celebrate birthdays. In the liturgical calendar, except for the birthdays of Jesus, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. John the Baptist, we celebrate only the day of death. This is the day that determines how we shall live forever: either with God or in hatred of him. How did Herod die? We don’t know; but we do know he had to meet in death not only God but all those he had killed, including the Holy Innocents, who now surround the throne of God as they once, when living on earth, surrounded the crib of Christ. All Herod’s power didn’t serve him well as he lay dying.

If Herod’s life was upset by Jesus’ birth, so were the lives of the foreigners who found him with Mary, his mother. All that had served them to make a good life — their wealth, their position in society, their very wisdom — collapsed in the presence of an infant King without a kingdom in this world. After escaping from Herod’s schemes, what did they go back to? How did they die? In the liturgical calendar, we celebrate their meeting the infant Jesus on the Feast of the Epiphany of the Lord. Surely, they met him again in death.

Not only individuals die; so do ideas and whole civilizations. Some die well and hand on a contribution to civilization and human well-being; some die badly, in violent conflict and human disaster. Last Dec. 2, in Rome, Archbishop Hilarion Alfeyev, the bishop in charge of foreign relations for the Patriarchate of Moscow, reflected on what the revitalized Russian Orthodox Church has to bring to the secular Europe now taking shape. Reflecting on the persecution of Orthodox Christianity in the now defunct Soviet Union, he said: “The church was always excluded from any possible contact with the life of society, the life which was, at the same time, ‘protected’ from any possible religious influence. Being a believer meant being a pariah. Personal religious convictions were to be kept hidden, and conversations on spiritual topics were to be avoided.”

“The processes taking place in Europe today are somewhat similar to those in the Soviet Union. In regards to religion, militant secularism is as dangerous as was militant atheism.” Archbishop Hilarion asked that the politicians in power in the Europe now being formed answer whether or not their Europe “is going to be home to diverse religions, thus becoming authentically inclusive and pluralistic.” Their answer would determine whether the Orthodox and other Christians could participate freely or would have to live in fear once again in their own homelands.

Whatever happened to Herod? He went wherever, here or elsewhere, power is an end in itself and where religion is feared as an alternative to a secular form of life that brooks no public rivals. Herod’s determination to hold on to power doesn’t change much from place to place or time to time. What changes people, and what might have changed even Herod had he encountered the infant Jesus, is conversion to God. Christmas is about a passing over to a new way of life for the world, a way of life where power is not the ultimate and only good. Christmas delineates the difference between despotism and freedom, between Herod, filled with fear and hatred, and Christ, who came to sacrifice himself for our salvation.

An encounter with God’s love incarnate in Jesus changes individual persons and the societies in which they work out their salvation. Where power is sought not for its own sake but to serve those whom God has given us to love, Herod disappears from the human story. While Herod seems not to have completely disappeared, we pray and should work so that his role will steadily decrease in the stories of our time. God bless you.

Sincerely yours in Christ,

Francis Cardinal George, OMI

Archbishop of Chicago

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Rome and throughout the world,
and all men and women, whom the Lord loves!

“Lux fulgebit hodie super nos,

quia natus est nobis Dominus.”

“A light will shine on us this day,

the Lord is born for us”

(Roman Missal, Christmas, Entrance Antiphon for the Mass at Dawn)

The liturgy of the Mass at Dawn reminded us that the night is now past, the day has begun; the light radiating from the cave of Bethlehem shines upon us.

The Bible and the Liturgy do not, however, speak to us about a natural light, but a different, special light, which is somehow directed to and focused upon “us”, the same “us” for whom the Child of Bethlehem “is born”. This “us” is the Church, the great universal family of those who believe in Christ, who have awaited in hope the new birth of the Saviour, and who today celebrate in mystery the perennial significance of this event.

At first, beside the manger in Bethlehem, that “us” was almost imperceptible to human eyes. As the Gospel of Saint Luke recounts, it included, in addition to Mary and Joseph, a few lowly shepherds who came to the cave after hearing the message of the Angels. The light of that first Christmas was like a fire kindled in the night. All about there was darkness, while in the cave there shone the true light “that enlightens every man” (Jn 1:9).

And yet all this took place in simplicity and hiddenness, in the way that God works in all of salvation history.

God loves to light little lights, so as then to illuminate vast spaces.

Truth, and Love, which are its content, are kindled wherever the light is welcomed; they then radiate in concentric circles, as if by contact, in the hearts and minds of all those who, by opening themselves freely to its splendour, themselves become sources of light.

Such is the history of the Church: she began her journey in the lowly cave of Bethlehem, and down the centuries she has become a People and a source of light for humanity.

Today too, in those who encounter that Child, God still kindles fires in the night of the world, calling men and women everywhere to acknowledge in Jesus the “sign” of his saving and liberating presence and to extend the “us” of those who believe in Christ to the whole of mankind.

Wherever there is an “us” which welcomes God’s love, there the light of Christ shines forth, even in the most difficult situations.

The Church, like the Virgin Mary, offers the world Jesus, the Son, whom she herself has received as a gift, the One who came to set mankind free from the slavery of sin.

Like Mary, the Church does not fear, for that Child is her strength.

But she does not keep him for herself: she offers him to all those who seek him with a sincere heart, to the earth’s lowly and afflicted, to the victims of violence, and to all who yearn for peace.

Today too, on behalf of a human family profoundly affected by a grave financial crisis, yet even more by a moral crisis, and by the painful wounds of wars and conflicts, the Church, in faithful solidarity with mankind, repeats with the shepherds: “Let us go to Bethlehem” (Lk 2:15), for there we shall find our hope.

The “us” of the Church is alive in the place where Jesus was born, in the Holy Land, inviting its people to abandon every logic of violence and vengeance, and to engage with renewed vigour and generosity in the process which leads to peaceful coexistence.

The “us” of the Church is present in the other countries of the Middle East. How can we forget the troubled situation in Iraq and the “little flock” of Christians which lives in the region? At times it is subject to violence and injustice, but it remains determined to make its own contribution to the building of a society opposed to the logic of conflict and the rejection of one’s neighbour.

The “us” of the Church is active in Sri Lanka, in the Korean peninsula and in the Philippines, as well as in the other countries of Asia, as a leaven of reconciliation and peace.

On the continent of Africa she does not cease to lift her voice to God, imploring an end to every injustice in the Democratic Republic of Congo; she invites the citizens of Guinea and Niger to respect for the rights of every person and to dialogue; she begs those of Madagascar to overcome their internal divisions and to be mutually accepting; and she reminds all men and women that they are called to hope, despite the tragedies, trials and difficulties which still afflict them.

In Europe and North America, the “us” of the Church urges people to leave behind the selfish and technicist mentality, to advance the common good and to show respect for the persons who are most defenceless, starting with the unborn.

In Honduras she is assisting in process of rebuilding institutions; throughout Latin America, the “us” of the Church is a source of identity, a fullness of truth and of charity which no ideology can replace, a summons to respect for the inalienable rights of each person and his or her integral development, a proclamation of justice and fraternity, a source of unity.

In fidelity to the mandate of her Founder, the Church shows solidarity with the victims of natural disasters and poverty, even within opulent societies.

In the face of the exodus of all those who migrate from their homelands and are driven away by hunger, intolerance or environmental degradation, the Church is a presence calling others to an attitude of acceptance and welcome.

In a word, the Church everywhere proclaims the Gospel of Christ, despite persecutions, discriminations, attacks and at times hostile indifference. These, in fact, enable her to share the lot of her Master and Lord.

Dear Brothers and Sisters, how great a gift it is to be part of a communion which is open to everyone! It is the communion of the Most Holy Trinity, from whose heart Emmanuel, Jesus, “God with us”, came into the world. Like the shepherds of Bethlehem, let us contemplate, filled with wonder and gratitude, this mystery of love and light! Happy Christmas to all!

Dear Brothers and Sisters!

“A child is born for us, a son is given to us” (Is 9:5).

What Isaiah prophesied as he gazed into the future from afar, consoling Israel amid its trials and its darkness, is now proclaimed to the shepherds as a present reality by the Angel, from whom a cloud of light streams forth: “To you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord” (Lk 2:11). The Lord is here. From this moment, God is truly “God with us”.

No longer is he the distant God who can in some way be perceived from afar, in creation and in our own consciousness. He has entered the world. He is close to us.

The words of the risen Christ to his followers are addressed also to us: “Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age” (Mt 28:20). For you the Saviour is born: through the Gospel and those who proclaim it, God now reminds us of the message that the Angel announced to the shepherds. It is a message that cannot leave us indifferent.

If it is true, it changes everything. If it is true, it also affects me. Like the shepherds, then, I too must say: Come on, I want to go to Bethlehem to see the Word that has occurred there. The story of the shepherds is included in the Gospel for a reason. They show us the right way to respond to the message that we too have received. What is it that these first witnesses of God’s incarnation have to tell us?

The first thing we are told about the shepherds is that they were on the watch they could hear the message precisely because they were awake. We must be awake, so that we can hear the message. We must become truly vigilant people. What does this mean?

The principal difference between someone dreaming and someone awake is that the dreamer is in a world of his own. His “self” is locked into this dreamworld that is his alone and does not connect him with others. To wake up means to leave that private world of one’s own and to enter the common reality, the truth that alone can unite all people.

Conflict and lack of reconciliation in the world stem from the fact that we are locked into our own interests and opinions, into our own little private world. Selfishness, both individual and collective, makes us prisoners of our interests and our desires that stand against the truth and separate us from one another. Awake, the Gospel tells us. Step outside, so as to enter the great communal truth, the communion of the one God. To awake, then, means to develop a receptivity for God: for the silent promptings with which he chooses to guide us; for the many indications of his presence.

There are people who describe themselves as “religiously tone deaf.” The gift of a capacity to perceive God seems as if it is withheld from some. And indeed our way of thinking and acting, the mentality of today’s world, the whole range of our experience is inclined to deaden our receptivity for God, to make us “tone deaf” towards him. And yet in every soul, the desire for God, the capacity to encounter him, is present, whether in a hidden way or overtly. In order to arrive at this vigilance, this awakening to what is essential, we should pray for ourselves and for others, for those who appear “tone deaf” and yet in whom there is a keen desire for God to manifest himself.

The great theologian Origen said this: if I had the grace to see as Paul saw, I could even now (during the Liturgy) contemplate a great host of angels (cf. in Lk 23 :9). And indeed, in the sacred liturgy, we are surrounded by the angels of God and the saints. The Lord himself is present in our midst. Lord, open the eyes of our hearts, so that we may become vigilant and clear-sighted, in this way bringing you close to others as well!

Let us return to the Christmas Gospel. It tells us that after listening to the Angel’s message, the shepherds said one to another: “‘Let us go over to Bethlehem’ they went at once” (Lk 2:15f.). “They made haste” is literally what the Greek text says. What had been announced to them was so important that they had to go immediately?

In fact, what had been said to them was utterly out of the ordinary. It changed the world.

The Saviour is born. The long-awaited Son of David has come into the world in his own city. What could be more important?

No doubt they were partly driven by curiosity, but first and foremost it was their excitement at the wonderful news that had been conveyed to them, of all people, to the little ones, to the seemingly unimportant. They made haste they went at once.

In our daily life, it is not like that.

For most people, the things of God are not given priority, they do not impose themselves on us directly And so the great majority of us tend to postpone them.

First we do what seems urgent here and now. In the list of priorities God is often more or less at the end. We can always deal with that later, we tend to think. The Gospel tells us: God is the highest priority. If anything in our life deserves haste without delay, then, it is God’s work alone. The Rule of Saint Benedict contains this teaching: “Place nothing at all before the work of God (i.e., the divine office)”.

For monks, the Liturgy is the first priority. Everything else comes later. In its essence, though, this saying applies to everyone. God is important, by far the most important thing in our lives. The shepherds teach us this priority. From them we should learn not to be crushed by all the pressing matters in our daily lives. From them we should learn the inner freedom to put other tasks in second place however important they may be so as to make our way towards God, to allow him into our lives and into our time. Time given to God and, in his name, to our neighbour is never time lost. It is the time when we are most tr uly alive, when we live our humanity to the full.

Some commentators point out that the shepherds, the simple souls, were the first to come to Jesus in the manger and to encounter the Redeemer of the world. The wise men from the East, representing those with social standing and fame, arrived much later. The commentators go on to say: this is quite natural. The shepherds lived nearby. They only needed to “come over” (cf. Lk 2:15), as we do when we go to visit our neighbours.

The wise men, however, lived far away. They had to undertake a long and arduous journey in order to arrive in Bethlehem. And they needed guidance and direction. Today too there are simple and lowly souls who live very close to the Lord. They are, so to speak, his neighbours and they can easily go to see him.

But most of us in the world today live far from Jesus Christ, the incarnate God who came to dwell amongst us.

We live our lives by philosophies, amid worldly affairs and occupations that totally absorb us and are a great distance from the manger. In all kinds of ways, God has to prod us and reach out to us again and again, so that we can manage to escape from the muddle of our thoughts and activities and discover the way that leads to him.

But a path exists for all of us.

The Lord provides everyone with tailor-made signals. He calls each one of us, so that we too can say: “Come on, ‘let us go over’ to Bethlehem to the God who has come to meet us.”

Yes indeed, God has set out towards us. Left to ourselves we could not reach him. The path is too much for our strength. But God has come down. He comes towards us. He has travelled the longer part of the journey. Now he invites us: come and see how much I love you. Come and see that I am here.

Transeamus usque Bethlehem, the Latin Bible says.

Let us go there! Let us surpass ourselves! Let us journey towards God in all sorts of ways: along our interior path towards him, but also along very concrete paths the Liturgy of the Church, the service of our neighbour, in whom Christ awaits us.

Let us once again listen directly to the Gospel. The shepherds tell one another the reason why they are setting off: “Let us see this thing that has happened.” Literally the Greek text says: “Let us see this Word that has occurred there.” Yes indeed, such is the radical newness of this night: the Word can be seen. For it has become flesh. The God of whom no image may be made because any image would only diminish, or rather distort him this God has himself become visible in the One who is his true image, as Saint Paul puts it (cf. 2 Cor 4:4; Col 1:15).

In the figure of Jesus Christ, in the whole of his life and ministry, in his dying and rising, we can see the Word of God and hence the mystery of the living God himself. This is what God is like. The Angel had said to the shepherds: “This will be a sign for you: you will find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger” (Lk 2:12; cf. 2:16). God’s sign, the sign given to the shepherds and to us, is not an astonishing miracle.

God’s sign is his humility.

God’s sign is that he makes himself small; he becomes a child; he lets us touch him and he asks for our love.

How we would prefer a different sign, an imposing, irresistible sign of God’s power and greatness! But his sign summons us to faith and love, and thus it gives us hope: this is what God is like.

He has power, he is Goodness itself. He invites us to become like him.

Yes indeed, we become like God if we allow ourselves to be shaped by this sign; if we ourselves learn humility and hence true greatness; if we renounce violence and use only the weapons of truth and love.

Origen, taking up one of John the Baptist’s sayings, saw the essence of paganism expressed in the symbol of stones: paganism is a lack of feeling, it means a heart of stone that is incapable of loving and perceiving God’s love. Origen says of the pagans: “Lacking feeling and reason, they are transformed into stones and wood” (in Lk 22:9).

Christ, though, wishes to give us a heart of flesh. When we see him, the God who became a child, our hearts are opened. In the Liturgy of the holy night, God comes to us as man, so that we might become truly human. Let us listen once again to Origen: “Indeed, what use would it be to you that Christ once came in the flesh if he did not enter your soul? Let us pray that he may come to us each day, that we may be able to say: I live, yet it is no longer I that live, but Christ lives in me (Gal 2:20)” (in Lk 22:3).

Yes indeed, that is what we should pray for on this Holy Night. Lord Jesus Christ, born in Bethlehem, come to us! Enter within me, within my soul. Transform me. Renew me. Change me, change us all from stone and wood into living people, in whom your love is made present and the world is transformed. Amen.

The Catholic support for the Stupak Amendment, which brought the Hyde Amendment’s prohibition of the use of federal funds for abortion into the legislation, should not be interpreted as a complete support by the Church of everything else in the health care reform legislation. For instance, the proposed health bill continues to provide abortion payments in cases of rape and incest and when the life of the mother is threatened. This is contrary to Church teachings about the inviolability and dignity of every pre-born human being regardless of the circumstances of their origin.

The legislation aims at further developing school-based clinics that provide, as well as appropriate medical interventions, contraceptives and referrals for abortion. This is a completely unacceptable use of Catholic tax dollars. It is surmised that the states with assisted suicide, presently our own Oregon and Washington, will be provided with some federal funds for “counseling” for patients who might be candidates for this “medical service.” This too is unacceptable. There has been a program of federally funded abstinence education and the present proposal abolishes this while funding sex education. These sex education programs generally provide information on “how to” while avoiding pregnancy rather than “why not.” Whether this component is linked to abortion or not, and it probably is, the Church certainly opposes this approach to sex education. There may be some conscience protections in the bill particularly with regard to direct and intentional as well as elective abortion but this is grossly inadequate. Catholic and Christian physicians and nurses, well as all men and women of good will, as well as private or religious health care institutions, need to be free from coercion relative to the so-called “medically necessary” abortions, contraception, sterilization, and other “services” that do not respect the value, sanctity or integrity of human life. Such adequate conscience protections are not currently included.

There are other more global issues that make the health care reform legislation problematic. The provision of health care is done in the context of a sacrosanct relationship – that between the patient and the physician. This is both a personal and a professional relationship and the physician has the right and the need to be free to diagnose and prescribe for the patient a mode of treatment that is morally and medically sound. There is already a degree of interference in this relationship by way of a variety of mechanisms, but the reform legislation seems to heighten that interference. Further, the reform legislation moves in the direction of a monolithic system with many coverage mandates and little option for families to change the coverage provisions of their personal health care plan or to form pools that reward healthy behaviors. Many plans, for instance, are mandated to provide contraceptive coverage and any Catholic family who would wish to have this coverage excluded from their plan would be prohibited from doing so. They are thus forced to pay for a provision they oppose for religious reasons and that would, in this plan, be available to their minor children without parental consent. This intrusion into the heart of the family is likewise offensive.

Needless to say, the legislation is seriously flawed and though there might have been some small sense of victory with the Stupak Amendment there are still very serious concerns about the impact that this legislation could have on the provision of health care in America. It is not expected that we will be able to configure the plan in such a way that it would be entirely consistent with Catholic moral and social principles but we must work to assure, at very least, that we are free to live our faith in a way consistent with our faith tradition. The inclusion of a comprehensive conscience protection clause would go a long way in assuring that freedom.

My life, however, has not been entirely consumed by health care discussions. I did make one confirmation trip to Pendleton and Pilot Rock on a very gusty weekend. If the Holy Spirit comes in the midst of a strong, blowing wind then he certainly had ample opportunity to arrive this weekend. The class of youngsters at each parish was not large and, as we have come to expect, a majority of them were of Mexican descent. It is not always obvious that the sacrament has its desired effect but the Holy Spirit often works in the way that yeast works in bread. There is not necessarily an immediate, enthusiastic response but slowly over a period of time the yeast begins to work, expand the dough and make of it something newly alive and wonderful. Undoubtedly, the Holy Spirit did come to these confirmands and he will abide with them and gradually incorporate into the lived realities of their lives those gifts of wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord.

On the way home I took a route that is a bit slower but much more interesting. I traveled through Heppner, Condon, Mayville, Fossil, Clarno, Antelope, Willowdale, Madras, Redmond and then home. The panoramic views caused me to question why I did not take this route more often. The gusty wind made the trip feel a little like a lengthy battle but this did not in any way impede the delight of the views. Since it was so gusty there was a perpetual parade of tumbleweeds racing across the fields and occasionally across the road. The barbed wire fences were stacked with captured tumbled refugees, which looked very much like prisoners straining at the limits of their encampment.

Occasionally the wind would carry one of the captured lot out of the confines of the wire and allow it to race, like a calf freed from its pen, bounding and leaping across the field enjoying its newfound freedom.

I thought that the escapees looked wonderfully free but on further reflection they were not free at all. They were driven uncontrollably by the wind and were as much prisoners of the wind as they were of the fence. The way of God is freedom while being driven by the winds of our times is the real enslavement.

While the secular society is already celebrating its “winter holidays”, the liturgy of Advent is sober – calling us to repentance and conversion.  Indeed, the entire purpose of Advent is to reawaken our thirst for God.  In Sunday’s gospel (Luke 3: 10-18), the evangelist tells us that this is precisely what John the Baptist did – resulting in a “feeling of expectancy had grown among the people…”  And the people asked him, “What must we do?”

Advent also strives to evoke among us that same expectancy.  And in doing so, Advent also calls us to conversion – so that the Lord when he comes finds us “watchful”. That is, ready to receive him.  Because of this “penitential” aspect of our Christmas preparations, we should all make a serious attempt during this particular time of grace to approach the confessional.  This is what we must do as we await the Lord’s coming among us.

Without acknowledging that we are not as self-sufficient, as autonomous as we sometimes pretend; without recognizing the false turns we have made, the sinful choices that turn us away from the destiny to which he calls us, God will be not only “missing” from our lives; he will not even be “missed”. How can we welcome the one who comes to save us, if we don’t acknowledge our need to be saved?

Along with our pre-holiday shopping and partying, we should all make time to go to confession if only to remind ourselves that Jesus is, after all, the reason for the season.   Most of our parishes have scheduled extra time for confessions; many have communal reconciliation services (with individual confession and absolution).  By taking advantage of these opportunities for the Sacrament of Penance, we can, in the words of John the Baptist, “prepare the Way of the Lord”.  Christmas means that Jesus still offers us gentle miracles of healing, of reconciliation, of interior peace and consolation, if only we approach him with trusting faith.

Such trusting faith is perfectly modeled in the sinless Virgin Mary whose “yes” to God’s will allowed the Word to take flesh in her womb. She became the true “dwelling place” of the Lord, a true “temple” in the world and a “door” through which the Lord entered upon the earth.  Advent reminds us that Christ wants to come to us – and, through us, he wants to come and live in our world. Between his first coming as man, when he was born of the Virgin Mary and his final coming in glory at the end of time, he continues to come among us and knocks at the door of our hearts asking us:  are you willing to give me your flesh, your time, your life?  A good confession can bring Christ to birth once again in our lives – a good confession undoes the “no’s” of our sins and reaffirms the “yes” of our baptism.  It allows us to cry out in hope:  Maranatha!  Come, Lord Jesus!