Monday, August 6, 2012

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/080612.cfm

Come away and rest awhile.
he hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them;from the cloud came a voice,"this is my beloved son. listen to him."



The "fear of the Lord" has fallen on hard times. People hate the phrase and many people insist that it should never be heard in the Church, catechesis (religious instruction) or the home.

But Psalm 34: 12-13 invites us:come, children, listen to me; i will teach you fear of the lord.

The terror of the disciples on Mount Tabor is not fear of something evil. They realize they are in God's presence and they fall on their faces to the ground in a holy dread of being consumed by the cloud that is enveloping the Master and his mysterious friends, Moses and Elijah.

Once again I recall my recent experience of meeting former Catholic veterans who tell me they served at the Altar at one time, and accompanied the priest in the mysteries of the Mass. How did they lose their dread of acting boyishly during the ceremony? Surely they were trained by the Sister or the Priest to deport themselves with reverence as the prayerful congregation looked on.  But they did not carry that discipline with them through the experience of military training and, in some cases, combat.

Ancient warriors of Israel were better trained. The future king David insisted that his fighters always abstained from contact with women and impure foods when they were in the field searching for Canaanite and Philistine enemies. For that reason they could eat the bread which had been consecrated to the Lord.
David answered the priest: “We have indeed stayed away from women. In the past whenever I went out on a campaign, all the young men were consecrated — even for an ordinary campaign. All the more so are they consecrated with their weapons today!” So the priest gave him holy bread, for no other bread was on hand except the showbread which had been removed from before the LORD and replaced by fresh bread when it was taken away. (I Samuel 21: 6-7)
It appears that David knew he was the anointed messiah of the Lord and his military campaign was a sacred undertaking.

American military also have a sense of their sacred duty as they defend the homeland from foreign enemies, but they might not fully integrate their training and (sometimes dreadful) experience with the work of God. So much of American life is desacralized, without reference to God, that even our continual warfare seems anything but holy. 


And yet, from ancient times, the warrior's task is sacred. Whether we're thinking of Samson, David, Achilles, Aeneas, or Cu Chulainn their fighting represents the work of divinity.

Many veterans reenter civilian life feeling not blessed but mortified by what they have seen and done. Only one combat veteran has told me of his continual prayer during his service in Iraq. On many evenings as he took his turn at guard he recited the rosary. On occasion others joined him. I should note he was not in the hospital for alcohol or drug rehabilitation. Although I had only one conversation with him, it seemed he passed through the ordeal without a disabling trauma, though it was certainly stressful. He looked forward to taking up his career and family life where he had left off.

The work of the VA chaplain, at least in part, is to help the soul-wounded Veteran rediscover God's abiding presence during those lost hours, days and years of his or her life. It is not my job to judge whether this or any war is justified, or whether this combat veteran should be ashamed of what happened. Rather I offer the same mercy that Jesus lavished upon the Roman soldiers.

War is a fearful business, as is the priesthood, and marriage and parenting. Life and death are sacred words, and those who protect life or administer death engage in God's work. They must be fearful -- call it reverent, if you insist -- in all their ways. 

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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.