Last week the 2008 Truman scholarship award winners were announced.   The Truman foundation was established by an Act of Congress in 1975 and annually conducts a nationwide competition to identify “persons who demonstrate outstanding potential for and who plan to pursue a career in public service.”  According to the Foundation’s website,  “Each year hundreds of college juniors compete for roughly 80 awards.  The rigorous selection process requires that good candidates have a strong record of public service, as well as a policy proposal that addresses a particular issue in society. Firmly rooted in President Truman’s belief that education promotes the general welfare of our country, the Truman Scholarship remains committed to encouraging future “change-agents” of America. Many of those chosen as scholars go on to serve in public office, as public defenders, leaders of non-profit organizations, and educators.”

Given that Catholic higher education aspires, among other things, to nurture future leaders of this sort, it is encouraging to see that 5 of the 65 Truman scholars for 2008 come from Catholic institutions.  Unless I missed something in my quick count, all are, interestingly enough, from Jesuit schools.  I looked back through the past few years of award winners and that pattern seems to hold.

You can read more about Truman Scholars here.

Before the talking-and-scribbling heads cruise into high gear for the forthcoming visit of Pope Benedict, some commonsense observations from Peter Steinfels:

Of course, part of the problem in getting a fix on Benedict is simply the feebleness of accepted categories for understanding any serious religious leaders — and hence the impulse to deal with them as celebrities or politicians. Of all the words he speaks during his trip here, the ones that will probably go least examined are no doubt the ones he treasures most, the words of the Mass.

But the pope is not just another spiritual guide or priest. He has enormous institutional powers and responsibilities. To what extent does Benedict conceive of his papacy as a work of prayer and teaching? To what extent does he conceive of it as a renewal of structures and institutions? How does he see those aspects interacting?

His trip to the United States will presumably provide some clues. But they will be missed if it is greeted and framed with all the ready-made reflexes.

Will Peter’s cautions about cliches bear fruit? Stay tuned. (But don’t get your hopes too high.)

This guy is my hero: (HT BoingBoing)

· Julio Diaz has a daily routine. Every night, the 31-year-old social worker ends his hour-long subway commute to the Bronx one stop early, just so he can eat at his favorite diner.But one night last month, as Diaz stepped off the No. 6 train and onto a nearly empty platform, his evening took an unexpected turn.  He was walking toward the stairs when a teenage boy approached and pulled out a knife.

“He wants my money, so I just gave him my wallet and told him, ‘Here you go,’” Diaz says.  As the teen began to walk away, Diaz told him, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.”

The would-be robber looked at his would-be victim, “like what’s going on here?” Diaz says. “He asked me, ‘Why are you doing this?’”  Diaz replied: “If you’re willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner and if you really want to join me … hey, you’re more than welcome.

“You know, I just felt maybe he really needs help,” Diaz says. Diaz says he and the teen went into the diner and sat in a booth.

Go read the rest.

A couple of notes from the David Gibson Department of Self-Promotion:

Not that you need another website to check out, but I have begun covering Benedict’s visit for Beliefnet at the aptly named blog, “Benedictions”. It is, of course, the only papal visit blog you’ll ever need…We also have a Pope Page dedicated to all manner of bits and bytes and things papal, as well as a survey that you all are invited to take–or critique here, as the case may be. Feedback always welcome.

Also, if you are in the vicinity of Syracuse University next Tuesday afternoon, April 1st (no April Fool’s jokes, please–too easy), I’ll be the guest of Gustav Niebuhr and the Religion & Society Program to talk about the pope’s upcoming visit. The talk (as much Q&A as lecture) is free and open to the public. It will run from 3:30-4:50 pm on the 1st floor of the E.S. Bird Library at the Peter Graham Scholarly Commons.

Stop by and say everything that the moderator of this blog prevents you from writing!

Stephen Colbert on the tensions in the Democratic Party, and the Wright Controversy:

Even occasional visitors to il bel paese know the simple but delectable antipasto known as “insalata caprese.”

Here’s a mouth-watering refresher from Wikipedia:

Insalata Caprese (Salad in the style of Capri) is a simple salad from the Italian region of Campania, made of sliced fresh mozzarella, plum tomatoes and basil. It is seasoned with salt, black pepper, and olive oil. The main ingredients are similar to Pizza Margherita, but are not cooked.

Ideally, the mozzarella is di bufala campana, the olive oil is extra virgin from the peninsula of Sorrento and the tomatoes and basil are grown in the full sun of the mezzogiorno.

The dish reproduces the colours of the flag of Italy.

Ahimè! we may have the heavenly dish no longer. The problem is that the bufale from whose milk the mozzarella is produced have been feeding on all too earthly contaminants. Imports from Italy have already been banned in Korea and Japan; the European union is demanding information that the Italians have been slow too provide (what else is new?); and tourists may not be encouraged to be told that 84% of the mozzarella is consumed in Italy and not exported.

Update:

News from Corriere della Sera:

The European Union satisfied by Italian government reports and reassurances, but France and Portugal still cautious. Japan has released blocked mozzarella imports, and Tokyo pizza-lovers breathe sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Nicholas Clifford, in his comment below, adroitly seizes the opportunity to promote “insalata vermontese!”

I thought the current Commonweal editorial an excellent one, worth highlighting here and elsewhere. For a taste:

Many bad arguments have been advanced for the war in Iraq, and the president has used almost all of them over the past five years. He has variously claimed that Iraq posed an imminent military threat, was involved in 9/11, demanded humanitarian intervention, or that it offered a rare opportunity to establish democracy in the Middle East. Yet surely the worst, and perhaps the most offensive, argument for launching such a preventive war is the claim that every human being bears the image of our maker. Christians and non-Christians alike should tell President Bush to stop it-to stop using Christian language to justify his decision to go to war. The last people to applaud such sentiments ought to be religious broadcasters.

Commonweal readers know how influenced Pope Benedict has been by Saint Augustine: writing one of his dissertations on Augustine’s thought, quoting him in his encyclicals, recently devoting a series of Wednesday catecheses to the life and works of the great Saint.

What has long been clear to me is how redolent of Augustine are the Pope’s homilies which I have often cited on dotCom. Now Sandro Magister has devoted a valuable post to the Holy Week homilies and addresses of the Pope, making them conveniently available in one place.

Here is how Magister introduces his selection:

these homilies are among the most revealing characteristics of Joseph Ratzinger’s pontificate. They are a culmination of the magisterium of this pope, theologian and pastor.

They are unmistakably written by the pope himself. And they are inseparably connected to the liturgical celebration in which they were pronounced. In their genre, they are masterpieces.

The comparison that comes most naturally is with the homilies of the Fathers of the Church, for example, those of Leo the Great – the first pope whose liturgical preaching was preserved –, of Saint Ambrose, of Saint Augustine.

It is an illuminating comparison under the aspect of communication as well. Because even the homilies of a Leo the Great, at the time, were heard by few and read by fewer. The same can be said of Saint Augustine. But the influence that the preaching of these Fathers had upon the Church was equally great, and was produced over the span of centuries.

It is not impossible that something similar could happen with the homilies of Benedict XVI. All that is necessary is that there be, in the Church, persons who recognize the originality and depth of the liturgical preaching of this pope. And who work to expand its audience.

Samantha Power is lecturing on her recent book; she was at Columbia University on Tuesday.

“To the delight of many in the crowd, she even hinted that she could be part of that hypothetical [Obama] cabinet. “Because of the kind of campaign that Senator Obama has run,” Power said, “it seemed appropriate for someone of my Irish temper to step aside, at least for a while. We will see what happens there.”

That from the Huffington Post via TPM: Read the whole account: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/03/26/samantha-power-unapologet_n_93493.html

Alan Wolfe in last month’s Atlantic used this graph to demonstrate that the United States is easily the most religious of the most wealthy nations. But he also argues that Marx and Weber were not as wrong as we might now think, that secularism — and certainly detachment from  churches — is growing in the United States and other once religious societies such as Spain, Ireland and South Korea. In this sense the U.S. becoming like Europe is more likely than the reverse.  

It has been a few months since we had some good Potter discussion here on dotCommonweal so I thought we might be due. 

Special reporter to CNN.com, Yale freshman Patrick Lee wrote an article about the surge of academic classes that are built around the Harry Potter books.  At Yale University, one Yale Divinity graduate student designed a course for undergrads called “Christian Theology and Harry Potter.”  It has been done with C.S. Lewis novels and with J.R.R. Tolkien novels.  So why not J.K. Rowling novels which have all the necessary components for generating some wonderful discussions?  Lee reports:

The course uses all seven Potter books and the students examine Christian themes such as sin, evil and resurrection. (…)

Although Yale’s course is its first Harry Potter-themed offering, other universities, including Georgetown University, Liberty University, Pepperdine University, Stanford University, Lawrence University, Swarthmore and Kansas State University, also have integrated the series into their curricula.  (…)

Cat Terrell, a student in Tumminio’s course at Yale, said regardless of whether the books are worthy as literary texts, they have helped enhance her understanding of other academic disciplines, including theology. …”It’s amazing how many connections you can draw between the theology that we’re reading outside of class and the Harry Potter that we’ve known for 10 years.”

The truth about Harry Potter, whether you like it or not, is that it is not going anywhere.  The first Potter book was published in 1997, meaning that a ten year old kid in 1997 is 21 now.  Obviously, Harry Potter appeals to people of all different ages but the world is about to introduced to a generation of adults who have lived Harry Potter’s adolescence while experiencing their own.  For many young kids, the Harry Potter books are the only books they read.  I wonder what kind of extended legacy Harry Potter will have as the Potter generation goes on to college and adulthood, especially if the books are being examined through the lens of theology and ethics.      

Over at SpiritualPolitics, Mark Silk has a follow-up on the mystery of Mrs. Clinton’s religious affiliation (Bill is a Southern Baptist–now there’s some baggage). It seems Hillary has been associated with something called “The Family,” which is not the Family of cult infamy. Alternately, it is “The Fellowship,” which sounds positively Grisham-esque. The main source is a Mother Jones piece, it seems. Be good to hear more from the candidate herself. Read more at “Hillary’s Church.”

This seems right to me:

And one other thing I think we’ve gotta remember. As easy as it is for those of us who are white, to look back and say “That’s a terrible statement!”…I grew up in a very segregated south. And I think that you have to cut some slack — and I’m gonna be probably the only Conservative in America who’s gonna say something like this, but I’m just tellin’ you — we’ve gotta cut some slack to people who grew up being called names, being told “you have to sit in the balcony when you go to the movie. You have to go to the back door to go into the restaurant. And you can’t sit out there with everyone else. There’s a separate waiting room in the doctor’s office. Here’s where you sit on the bus…” And you know what? Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder and resentment. And you have to just say, I probably would too. I probably would too. In fact, I may have had more of a chip on my shoulder had it been me.

This is also why I think facile counterfactuals in which a white preacher makes a mirror image statement about black people are not at all compelling.

Hillary Clinton knows a good thing when she sees it, and is riding the Rev. Wright issue for all it’s worth. As she tells the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, Wright ”would not have been my pastor…You don’t choose your family, but you choose what church you want to attend.” (Perhaps she also chose her race and upbringing?)

She then noted that she spoke out against Don Imus. (I didn’t know he was ordained.)

Over at the Spiritual Politics blog, Mark Silk points out that Dean J. Snyder, senior minister of Washington’s Foundry United Methodist Church, where the Clintons attended, made a strong defense of Wright, raising questions about what Hillary should do. Silk later noted that in fact Phil Wogaman was pastor while the Clintons were across the street at the White House, so Snyder may not be considered her pastor, officially.

So does Hillary have a pastor for whom she should be held responsible? Or is she in the same “un-churched” category as President Bush? She has always associated herself with the Methodist Church. More important, is she really going to go down this low road?

PS: Also in the Tribune-Review, Clinton says that her claim last week of being tough and battle-tested because she landed in Bosnia under sniper fire in 1996 wasn’t exactly true: “I was sleep-deprived, and I misspoke.” 

A book review in the 14 March issue of the TLS said that there are 4.2 million CCTV cameras in Britain, one for every 14 people; it does not say whether this figure is only that of the government’s cameras or includes store-cameras, etc. In any case, it does not seem that this has prevented the crime-rate from rising or improved conviction-trates. A 2006 report, cited by the BBC, said that Britain was the most “surveiled country” of western industrialized states.

Wikipedia has an article on them: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Closed-circuit_television

The self-consciousness of Jesus (even before he was in the womb he knew he was God–or not) has prompted many interesting discussions here. Such discussions necessitate shades of meanings and incorporate mystery. But they usually coalesce around two camps. Now it seems Anne Rice, with her latest post-conversion novel about Jesus, “Christ the Lord: The Road to Cana,” has bridged the divide. (She is also keeping one step ahead of Pope Benedict’s own historical Jesus treatment.) She has won plaudits not only from Janet Maslin in the New York Times review but she has also won a blurb from Richard John Neuhaus (“A remarkable achievement!” he wrote in the March First Things.)

“Ms. Rice’s The Road to Cana is a rare achievement: an engaging story told within the structure of biblical narrative and theological orthodoxy. Of course, there are those who will say that, if God wanted us to know the details of those hidden years, he would have inspired the gospel writers to tell us. I think they are wrong about that. With our capacity for ­reason, God gave us curiosity and imagination to be employed to his glory. That is the employment to which Anne Rice has turned her storytelling talents. She does not claim to know what happened; she is simply saying how it might have been.”

Maslin’s review has me a little leery, as Rice apparently details things like teen Jesus’ crush–he runs to take a cold bath when he thinks of Avigail:

At the novel’s precise midpoint, Avigail throws herself at Yeshua with the steam heat of a Rice vampire, sobbing, “I am your harlot.” Yeshua fights back his desires in order to refuse her. “You’re really the child of angels,” she realizes, in a tone of disappointment. But the book is clear in purpose and bound for glory from this point on.

And Ms. Rice, when inspired, can deliver hypnotic, incantatory prose that celebrates Yeshua’s ascension. “I moved slowly towards what was at last going to separate me from all around me,” he says as he begins to feel the divinity within him. Many readers will be lured by the promise of simply rendered holiness to “The Road to Cana.” Here are its rewards.

“I had to see it beyond hamlet or town or camp,” Yeshua says, embarking on his road of no return. “I had to seek it where there was nothing but the burnt sand, and the searing wind, and the highest cliffs of the land. I had to seek it as if it was nowhere and as if it contained nothing — when in fact it was the palm of the hand that held me.” To put it more nervily, and of course Ms. Rice does: “Well, now I knew just what it meant to be the man who knew he was God.”

As the Easter season begins, it’s an interesting discussion–what did Jesus know, and can novels help fill in the blanks? My view is they’re generally not very successful. But I have never read these books, nor any of Anne Rice’s work. Perhaps fans–or critics–will weigh in.  

Mikhail Gorbachev recently spent a half hour on his knees in Assisi before the tomb of St. Francis, according to news reports. Whether the former Communist leader was praying or just being an exceptionally thorough tourist is not clear.

The Telegraph, under the headline “Mikhail Gorbachev admits he is a Christian,”quoted him as saying, “It was through St Francis that I arrived at the Church, so it was important that I came to visit his tomb.” But the Chicago Tribune said he told the Russian media otherwise:

“Over the last few days some media have been disseminating fantasies—I can’t use any other word—about my secret Catholicism, citing my visit to the Sacro Convento friary, where the remains of St. Francis of Assisi lie,” Gorbachev told the Russian news agency Interfax. “To sum up and avoid any misunderstandings, let me say that I have been and remain an atheist.”

He would not be the first politician having trouble explaining his religious beliefs. Whatever the truth is, the detail I found most interesting is that, as The Telegraph reported, Gorbachev was especially interested in viewing art of Francis’ dream at Spoleto. That was a turning point for Francis, who was on his way to go to war when, as the early biographies say, he encountered God in a dream. Just a night before, he had dreamt of a glorious palace filled with glittering weapons. But now, he turned back home, got rid of his weaponry and began to change his life. Perhaps Mikhail Gorbachev had looked at his arsenal and come to feel the same way about it.

Boston.com has put together a quick photo-essay titled “New England’s Catholic shrines” which features eleven different Catholic sites from New Hampshire down to Connecticut.  The introduction reads:

They’re titanic and tiny. They’re tucked between Boston buildings and in the boonies. One stands tall to welcome planes to Boston, and another is home to a rosary that could be the world’s biggest.

They are New England’s Roman Catholic shrines, places that dot the landscape, offering refuge to anyone seeking a place to rest, ruminate, or replenish the spirit. Here are some of the best known.

This article struck me as odd when I first saw it but I guess since it is the Easter season, it makes sense to put something like this together.  I was just surprised to see it on Boston.com.  It’s nice to see some of these more historic sites gather a bit of publicity though.    

Finally, a piece about John McCain’s flirtations with the Democratic Party. This will be a serious problem for McCain once the Dems have their nominee.

I’m not going to be able to continue sending daily snippets from the sermons and writings of St. Augustine, although if I come upon a particularly bright gem, I may send it on. For those of you interested in delving deeper into the great bishop’s work, here are some websites you may find helpful.

Here is a website where you can find a quotation and a prayer from St. Augustine for every day of the year. http://www.artsci.villanova.edu/dsteelman/augustine/ These are also available as a book, by John E. Rotelle, Augustine day-by-day (Catholic Book Publishing Co.)..

There is another recent book that does the same thing: Donald X. Burt, Day by Day with St. Augustine (Liturgical Press).

And there is an Italian site with the same purpose, based, it seems, on a work first published in 1932: http://www.augustinus.it/varie/annus/anno_mistico_03.htm#D_03_23

The site that hosts the last of these–http://www.augustinus.it/–is available in several languages and provides his complete works in both Latin and Italian, with a fine search-engine and links..

James O’Donnell has put on line his critical text and close verbal analysis of Augustine’s Confessions: http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/jod/augustine.html Excellent links here, too.

Finally, as I’ve mentioned before, the project of publishing, for the first time ever, the complete works of Augustine in English translation is well underway.

https://ssl25.mysecureserver.com/newcitypresscom/productslist.aspx?CategoryID=33&selection=1

The first volume of his Sermons contains an excellent introduction, well worth reading.

The best biography of Augustine remains that of Peter Brown, now available in a second edition that contains an appendix about sermons and letters discovered since it first appeared. Still very much worth reading is a classic work by F. van der Meer, Augustine the Bishop, which might have been subtitled “Everyday Life in Hippo,” it is so full of illuminating detail. (The story I heard was that during the Second World War, van der Meer was stuck in a convent somewhere that had a complete set of Augustine, and that he spent the war reading Augustine and writing this book.)

As I went through Easter weekend, I was haunted by this story.

It struck me as a type of crucifixion (cruciare–to torture or torment).

And I found myself pondering the question in the title of the post.

Why will they be happy there? What will they have? What will they do? What they will have I’ve already said: Happy are those who dwell in your house. [Ps 83:5]… They will possess the heavenly Jerusalem without being confined, without being pressed, without boundaries dividing them from each other. All will possess it, and each will possess the whole….

And what will they do there? After all, the mother of all human activities is necessity… Tell me what they will do there since I don’t see any needs that would move me to act. That I am now speaking and preaching is out of necessity. Do you think there will be preaching there, the kind that teaches the ignorant and reminds the forgetful? Will the Gospel be recited there where the very Word of God is being contemplated? The Psalmist whose desires and sighs express our desires and sighs has told us what they will have in that sighed-for homeland: Blessed are they who dwell in your house; well, then, let him tell us what they will do there: For ever will they praise you. Our whole employment then will be an unfailing Alleluia. [Hoc erit totum negotium nostrum, sine defectu Alleluia.]

And don’t think that you will get tired of it, as you can happen now if you do it for a long while until some need calls you from this joy…. When death has been swallowed up in victory, when this mortal has put on immortality, and this corruptible has put on incorruption, no one will say, “I’ve been standing so long!” No one will say, “I’ve been fasting so long!” No one will say, “I’ve been keeping vigil so long!” There will be great steadiness there, and the very immortality of our body will be caught up in the contemplation of God. If the word I am giving to you can keep your frail flesh standing for so long, what will that joy do! How it will change us! For we shall be like him because we shall see him as he is (1 Jn 3:2). If we shall be like him, how shall we grow weak? To what could we be turned aside? Don’t worry, then, the praise of God, the love of God, will not cloy us. If your love were to fail, your praise would fail. But if your love will be eternal because that beauty can never cloy [insatiabilis pulchritudo], don’t be afraid that you will not be able always to praise the one whom you will be able to love always. Blessed are those who dwell in your house; for ever will they praise you. Let us desire this life (Augustine, In Ps 83, 8; PL 37:1061-63)

Pope Benedict’s “Easter Vigil Homily” concludes with words that we might well carry within us throughout the Forty Days … and beyond:

In the early Church there was a custom whereby the Bishop or the priest, after the homily, would cry out to the faithful: “Conversi ad Dominum” – turn now towards the Lord.  This meant in the first place that they would turn towards the East, towards the rising sun, the sign of Christ returning, whom we go to meet when we celebrate the Eucharist.  Where this was not possible, for some reason, they would at least turn towards the image of Christ in the apse, or towards the Cross, so as to orient themselves inwardly towards the Lord.  Fundamentally, this involved an interior event;  conversion, the turning of our soul towards Jesus Christ and thus towards the living God, towards the true light.  Linked with this, then, was the other exclamation that still today, before the Eucharistic Prayer, is addressed to the community of the faithful: “Sursum corda” – “Lift up your hearts”, high above the tangled web of our concerns, desires, anxieties and thoughtlessness – “Lift up your hearts, your inner selves!”  In both exclamations we are summoned, as it were, to a renewal of our Baptism:  Conversi ad Dominum – we must distance ourselves ever anew from taking false paths, onto which we stray so often in our thoughts and actions.  We must turn ever anew towards him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life.  We must be converted ever anew, turning with our whole life towards the Lord.  And ever anew we must allow our hearts to be withdrawn from the force of gravity, which pulls them down, and inwardly we must raise them high:  in truth and love.  At this hour, let us thank the Lord, because through the power of his word and of the holy Sacraments, he points us in the right direction and draws our heart upwards.  Let us pray to him in these words:  Yes, Lord, make us Easter people, men and women of light, filled with the fire of your love.  Amen.

Where is death? Look for it in Christ, and it is not there now. It was once there, but it is dead in him. O life, death’s death! [O vita, mors mortis!] Courage: it will die in us also! What has been anticipated in our Head will be realized also in his members. Death will die in us too. When? At the end of the world, in the resurrection of the dead in which we believe without hesitation. He who believes and is baptized will be saved. Follow what you should fear: He who does not believe will be condemned (Mk 16:16). Death will die in us, then, but it will conquer in those condemned. When death knows no death, death will be eternal…. In us death will die and be no more.

Do you want to know more? I tell you the few words of those who triumph so that you will have something to reflect on, something to sing in your hearts, something to hope for with all your heart, something to seek by faith and good works. Listen to the words of those who triumph when death will no longer be, when in us, as in our Head, death will die [morietur mors]. The Apostle Paul says: This corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality. Then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.” That is death’s death. It will be swallowed up so that it no longer appears. What does this mean? So that it no longer exists either within or without. Death will be swallowed up in victory.

Let the triumphant rejoice; let them rejoice and say what follows: Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? Where is it? You captured him, you possessed him, you conquered him, you subjected him to yourself, you struck him, and you killed him. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? Has not my Lord shattered it? O death, when you went after my Lord, you died also to me. This is the salvation by which will be saved anyone who believes and is baptized. (Augustine, Sermon 233, 5)

Could John Donne have known this passage of Augustine?

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

And after him, Milton has this (The Son of God is speaking):

Though now to Death I yield, and am his due,
All that of me can die, yet, that debt paid,
thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave
His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul
For ever with corruption there to dwell;
But I shall rise victorious, and subdue
My vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil.
Death his death’s wound shall then receive, and stoop
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed.

The editorial in Commonweal’s edition of March 14th is entitled “The Missing.” It reflects upon the recent “United States Religious Landscape Survey” by the Pew Forum.

The survey revealed, among other things, that former Catholics comprise close to ten percent of that landscape.

After offering a number of thoughtful considerations, the editors conclude: “The church in America must give a better account of the hope that is in us.”

Though not explicitly identified, the final phrase comes, of course, from the First Letter of St. Peter, which instructs Christians to be always prepared “to give an account of the hope that is in you” (1 Pet 3:15).

The God-given foundation for that hope is proclaimed in the very first verses of the Epistle: “the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet 1:3).

On this Holy Saturday of vigil before the solemn and joyful celebration of the resurrection of Jesus the Christ, our hope, we might also reflect anew on the mission to which we are called: to share so wondrous and life-transforming a gift with all — always, as Peter insists, “with gentleness and reverence.”

Michael Gerson ends his column in today’s Washington Post with this from the poet Jane Kenyon:

The God of curved space, the dry

God, is not going to help us, but the son

whose blood spattered

the hem of his mother’s robe.

And merechristian.org offers this, on resurrection:

…however absurd it seems… [the Resurrection] is a concept of sublime courage and optimism. [footnote: See Updike, "Seven Stanzas at Easter" in Telephone Poles and Other Poems... and see the poems, each entitled "The Resurrection of the Body", by Linda Gregerson and Eric Pankey, Poetry 162 [Apr 1993), 14-15, 26.] It locates redemption there where ultimate horror also resides — in pain, mutilation, death, and decay. Whether or not any of the images and answers I have surveyed in this long book carries conviction, those who articulated them faced without flinching the most negative of all the consequences of embodiment: the fragmentation, slime, and stench of the grave. It was this stench and fragmentation they saw lifted to glory in resurrection. To make body crucial to personhood is to court the possibility that (to misquote Paul) victory is swallowed up in death. But if there is resurrection, then what is redeemed includes all the fragments that concerned Tertullian and Athenagoras as well as the love for which Dante and Mechtild strove. We may not find their solutions plausible, but it is hard to feel that they got the problem wrong.

–Caroline Walker Bynum, The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200-1336, New York: Columbia Univ Press (1995), p. 343.

And we have seen him, and he had no beauty nor comeliness (Is 53:2). Was our bridegroom ugly, then? Of course not; if he were, how would virgins who have not ought husbands on earth love him? It was to those persecuting him that he appeared ugly; if they had not thought him ugly, they would not have attacked him, they would not have beaten him with whips, they would not have crowned him with thorns, they would not have dishonored him with spit. They did all these things because he seemed ugly to them. They did not have eyes to see why he is beautiful. To what eyes does Christ appear beautiful? The kind of eyes Christ himself sought when he said to Philip: Have I been with you so long, and you still do not see me (Jn 14:9)? They are the eyes that have to be cleansed so that they can see that light, the eyes that when even slightly touched by his splendor, are inflamed with love and desire to be healed and enlightened. That you may know that Christ is beautiful, the prophet says of him: More beautiful than all the sons of men (Ps 44:3). His beauty surpasses all men.

What is it that we love in Christ? His crucified limbs? His pierced side? Or his love? When we hear that he suffered for us, what do we love? We love his love. He loved us so that we would love him in return, and so that we might love him in return, he has come to us with his Spirit. (Augustine, Enar. in Ps 127, 8)

It has been my happy custom over the past years to celebrate Holy Thursday at Sacred Heart Parish in Newton Centre where I reside. Then on Good Friday morning I drive to the Bronx, arriving at St. Theresa’s parish for the afternoon Service. On the way I play Johann Sebastian Bach’s “St. John Passion.”

My favorite recording is that sung by the men and boys of New College Oxford, directed by Edward Higginbottom (Naxos), as perhaps coming closest to what was heard in Leipzig in the first half of the eighteenth century.

From the booklet notes of the recording:

Bach’s music played no part in Mozart’s upbringing. He may not even have known of his existence. Johann Christian Bach he knew. Carl Philipp Emmanuel Bach he knew of. But Johann Sebastian? He might have heard him mentioned in passing as their father … It was not until he was at the height of his career that Mozart first came across the music of Johann Sebastian, and it changed his life.

It has changed the life of many, by no means all, or even most, of them musicians. The universality of experience reflected in Bach’s music far transcends his own profound religious faith. Yet in one sense, and in one sense only, his faith was his sole limitation as a chronicler of humanity’s inner life: it barred him from despair.

Bach was no stranger to suffering, but taken as a whole his music is suffused by joy, and of a profundity beyond the limits of mere happiness. No composer’s music is so deeply imbued with the spirit and style of dance, and his spirituality was matched, and complemented by his robust physicality.

There are dances aplenty even in a work as awesomely serious and harrowing as the St. John Passion, which ends with a sarabande. Yet there is scarcely a work of his, however slight, however light, that is not consecrated in spirit to the glory of God. His overtly sacred works give us perhaps the most comprehensive portrait of religious experience ever achieved.

The magnificent opening chorus seems to me to sum up the distinctive vision of the Fourth Gospel:

Lord our Redeemer, whose Glory fills the whole earth: show us in this thy passion, that thou, the true Son of God, hast in the deepest humiliation, through all the ages, sovereignly triumphed.

From the Pope’s homily at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, via Zenit.

The Stations of the Cross to be prayed tomorrow in the Colosseum have been composed this year by Cardinal Joseph Zen of Hong Kong. The accompanying booklet features depictions of the Stations by 20th century Chinese artists. They may be viewed here, though the text is in Italian. Click on the image for larger view and for text.

Asia News has published photos of the Tibet repression. They are awful to behold. But the Chinese government has harshly criticized Pope Benedict’s appeal for peace.

“He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces, he was despised, and we esteemed him not” (Isaiah 53:3).