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My papers are organized into collections, currently as Pre-Theology and Theology I coursework. Where I've remembered to post it, the grade I received on each assignment is also included in the description, so you'll know if you're reading a "bad one."
Read away!
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Sunday, December 09, 2012
Advent
Advent is a time of waiting and anticipation. But what are we waiting for? The great "Advent" of course, Christ coming to us (ad-ventum: literally, toward the coming/arrival, from Latin). And from this notion flows directly the ancient invocation: Maranatha – Come, Lord Jesus! This applies both to our commemoration of His birth in Bethlehem (literally "house of bread"), and to our expectation of His second coming.
As we wait, we have been given a task; something to do while we wait. We are not only waiting or expecting (both literally "looking out) but also anticipating, receiving beforehand, in some sense, what we look forward to. Christ is with us now, in Word and Sacrament, though we look forward to His coming (eschatological return) among us yet again and hope that our lives may be pleasing to Him that we may join Him in eternal glory.
Last week, the Church presented just this notion of waiting with an active anticipation. Not only do we know that "the day is coming" (though it will be a surprise), but that we must continually turn away from the evil that threatens our righteousness and would prevent us from "standing before the Son of Man" and "[raising our] heads" (Gospel for First Sunday of Advent, Year C: Luke 21:25–28, 34–36). The first reading last week, from the prophet Jeremiah, emphasized this need to appear well before God, having sought to follow His instructions, to "do what is right and just in the land" (Jeremiah 33:14–16). And Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians further adds the wish that we "increase and abound in love so as to strengthen [our] hearts to be blameless in holiness" (1 Thessalonians 3:12–4:2). Taken together, the first reading's exhortation to righteousness and the second reading's exhortation to love unite in the Gospel message to receive strength to give God glory, precisely by our righteousness (by His grace) and love.
Today, we return to the beginning of Luke's Gospel to meet John the Baptist. His message is the quintessential call to repentance with the definitive sign of Baptism. We hear that John called all to a "baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (Luke 3:1–6). The passage from Isaiah that the author of Luke reads in hindsight as referring to John the Baptist (affectionately shortened to "JBap" in scholarly literature!) also includes landscape renewal language: "Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth" (Luke 3:1–6; cf. Isaiah 40:3–5). The first reading, from Baruch, also refers to this same kind of renewal: "For God has commanded/ that every lofty mountain be made low,/ and that the age-old depths and gorges/ be filled to level ground" (Baruch 5:1–9). The further imagery added by Psalm 126 calls for rain to water the desert and raise up a forest that will bear fruit; according to Paul's letter to the Philippians, the "fruit of righteousness" (Second reading: Philippians 1:4–6, 8–11). And so we are called in our own lives and by our own reception of Baptism to die to ourselves and to sin, recalling how John's baptism in the violent Jordan river meant a near-death experience drowning in water that otherwise gives life and cleanses; through this death and rebirth in the spirit, we can work to clear the landscape of our souls to be able to bear that fruit of righteousness. And this is the work we are called to do while waiting, expecting, and anticipating Christ's return, the parousia (Greek παρουσία, "coming").
Fr. Peter Grover presented the further historical context for this landscape renewal imagery: it was the practical way to build a road, by clearing obstacles (both the tall and the deep) to make a flat road for conquest. Rather than use an existing road, an enemy's advantage would lie in their ability to construct their own egress route following the attack of a city. Fr. Peter connected today's abstract language with the concrete situation of Lazarus and the rich man: if only the rich man would have built his own road to heaven, filling in the valley of Lazarus' needs with his mountain of wealth to pave his way to the bosom of Abraham!
At the sweet spot of convergence of this week's readings, however, there is a further point: this renewal, cleansing, and death to self is to "show all the earth your splendor" (cf. Baruch) and to bear fruit for the glory and praise of God (cf. Philippians). The point is to make God known (Greek: γνωριζω / gnōrizō), and this conversion of the landscape and the conversion of our hearts together become revelation to the world (Greek: αποκαλυψις / apocalypsis).
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
As we wait, we have been given a task; something to do while we wait. We are not only waiting or expecting (both literally "looking out) but also anticipating, receiving beforehand, in some sense, what we look forward to. Christ is with us now, in Word and Sacrament, though we look forward to His coming (eschatological return) among us yet again and hope that our lives may be pleasing to Him that we may join Him in eternal glory.
Last week, the Church presented just this notion of waiting with an active anticipation. Not only do we know that "the day is coming" (though it will be a surprise), but that we must continually turn away from the evil that threatens our righteousness and would prevent us from "standing before the Son of Man" and "[raising our] heads" (Gospel for First Sunday of Advent, Year C: Luke 21:25–28, 34–36). The first reading last week, from the prophet Jeremiah, emphasized this need to appear well before God, having sought to follow His instructions, to "do what is right and just in the land" (Jeremiah 33:14–16). And Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians further adds the wish that we "increase and abound in love so as to strengthen [our] hearts to be blameless in holiness" (1 Thessalonians 3:12–4:2). Taken together, the first reading's exhortation to righteousness and the second reading's exhortation to love unite in the Gospel message to receive strength to give God glory, precisely by our righteousness (by His grace) and love.
Today, we return to the beginning of Luke's Gospel to meet John the Baptist. His message is the quintessential call to repentance with the definitive sign of Baptism. We hear that John called all to a "baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (Luke 3:1–6). The passage from Isaiah that the author of Luke reads in hindsight as referring to John the Baptist (affectionately shortened to "JBap" in scholarly literature!) also includes landscape renewal language: "Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth" (Luke 3:1–6; cf. Isaiah 40:3–5). The first reading, from Baruch, also refers to this same kind of renewal: "For God has commanded/ that every lofty mountain be made low,/ and that the age-old depths and gorges/ be filled to level ground" (Baruch 5:1–9). The further imagery added by Psalm 126 calls for rain to water the desert and raise up a forest that will bear fruit; according to Paul's letter to the Philippians, the "fruit of righteousness" (Second reading: Philippians 1:4–6, 8–11). And so we are called in our own lives and by our own reception of Baptism to die to ourselves and to sin, recalling how John's baptism in the violent Jordan river meant a near-death experience drowning in water that otherwise gives life and cleanses; through this death and rebirth in the spirit, we can work to clear the landscape of our souls to be able to bear that fruit of righteousness. And this is the work we are called to do while waiting, expecting, and anticipating Christ's return, the parousia (Greek παρουσία, "coming").
Fr. Peter Grover presented the further historical context for this landscape renewal imagery: it was the practical way to build a road, by clearing obstacles (both the tall and the deep) to make a flat road for conquest. Rather than use an existing road, an enemy's advantage would lie in their ability to construct their own egress route following the attack of a city. Fr. Peter connected today's abstract language with the concrete situation of Lazarus and the rich man: if only the rich man would have built his own road to heaven, filling in the valley of Lazarus' needs with his mountain of wealth to pave his way to the bosom of Abraham!
At the sweet spot of convergence of this week's readings, however, there is a further point: this renewal, cleansing, and death to self is to "show all the earth your splendor" (cf. Baruch) and to bear fruit for the glory and praise of God (cf. Philippians). The point is to make God known (Greek: γνωριζω / gnōrizō), and this conversion of the landscape and the conversion of our hearts together become revelation to the world (Greek: αποκαλυψις / apocalypsis).
Love the Immaculata!
Mariam cogita, Mariam invoca
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