The Oil of Mercy

"In the lamp of our lives, the oil of mercy should never run dry."
Pope Benedict XVI, Chrism Mass Homily (April 1, 2010)

Earlier today the Chrism Mass was celebrated in Saint Peter's Basilica for the Diocese of Rome. In his homily, the Holy Father spoke very eloquently about the sacramental signs of the Church and the special symbolism of oil. The phrase above is certainly one that will remain with me for awhile (I hope!).

But more impressive (to me at least) was his discourse on love, joy and suffering.

In the early Church, the consecrated oil was considered a special sign of the presence of the Holy Spirit, who communicates himself to us as a gift from Christ. He is the oil of gladness. This gladness is different from entertainment and from the outward happiness that modern society seeks for itself. Entertainment, in its proper place, is certainly good and enjoyable. It is good to be able to laugh. But entertainment is not everything. It is only a small part of our lives, and when it tries to be the whole, it becomes a mask behind which despair lurks, or at least doubt over whether life is really good, or whether non-existence might perhaps be better than existence. The gladness that comes to us from Christ is different. It does indeed make us happy, but it can also perfectly well coexist with suffering. It gives us the capacity to suffer and, in suffering, to remain nevertheless profoundly glad. It gives us the capacity to share the suffering of others and thus by placing ourselves at one another’s disposal, to express tangibly the light and the goodness of God. I am always struck by the passage in the Acts of the Apostles which recounts that after the Apostles had been whipped by order of the Sanhedrin, they “rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonour for the name of Jesus” (Acts 5:41). Anyone who loves is ready to suffer for the beloved and for the sake of his love, and in this way he experiences a deeper joy. The joy of the martyrs was stronger than the torments inflicted on them. This joy was ultimately victorious and opened the gates of history for Christ.

I have always been impressed by Pope Benedict's homilies and writings on love. We often say that it is misunderstood by "the world." I would argue that it also is misunderstood by many in the Church. I hope that a careful reading of, and deep reflection on, Pope Benedict's wise words will help remedy this.

We should glory in the cross

"We should glory in the cross
of our Lord Jesus Christ,
for he is our salvation,
our life and our resurrection;
through him we are saved and made free."
(Galatians 6:14)

These words--the text of the introit or introduction of the Holy Thursday mass—start off these wonderful Three Days of prayer that we call the Easter Triduum. Lent ends sometime today without any fanfare. By the time we gather this evening for the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, Lent has ended. At the same time, Easter has not yet begun. It is as if we are standing in a threshold between rooms—we are in neither and both at the same time.

As the Triduum begins on Holy Thursday we savor the sweetness of the Eucharist in its fullest sense. We explore both the treasure and the cost. We eat and drink with “loins girt” as the Old Testament reading says—celebrating our Passover. We listen once again to Saint John's account of the Last Supper in which Jesus washed the feet of his disciples saying, "As I have done, you should also do."

On Holy Thursday we are reminded that Eucharist is both verb and noun…something received and given. It is something that we enter into. It is something that transforms our lives.

Below is a recording of the Benedictine monks of the Abbey of Santo Domingo de Silos singing the introit for the day (the text is from Galatians, quoted above).

"Let us resolve to make this week holy"

Catholic News Service (CNS) published a brief story yesterday marking the twentieth anniversary of the death of Sr. Thea Bowman. She spent much of her life helping African-Americans through her ministry of education and music.

Weeks before her untimely death from cancer at age 52, she dictated a text about Holy Week for publication in the Jackson (MS) diocesan newspaper. Here is the text below as published by CNS.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by claiming Christ's redemptive grace and by living holy lives. The Word became flesh and redeemed us by his holy life and holy death. This week especially, let us accept redemption by living grateful, faithful, prayerful, generous, just and holy lives.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by reading and meditating (on) holy Scripture. So often, we get caught up in the hurry of daily living. As individuals and as families, reserve prime time to be with Jesus, to hear the cries of the children waving palm
branches, to see the Son of Man riding on an ass' colt, to feel the press of the crowd, to be caught up in the "Hosannas" and to realize how the cries of acclamation will yield to the garden of suffering, to be there and watch as Jesus is sentenced by Pilate to Calvary, to see him rejected, mocked, spat upon, beaten and forced to carry a heavy cross, to hear the echo of the hammer, to feel the agony of the torn flesh and strained muscles, to know Mary's anguish as he hung three hours before he died.

We recoil before the atrocities of war, gang crime, domestic violence and catastrophic illness. Unless we personally and immediately are touched by suffering, it is easy to read Scripture and to walk away without contacting the redemptive suffering that makes us holy. The reality of the Word falls on deaf ears.

Let us take time this week to be present to someone who suffers. Sharing the pain of a fellow human will enliven Scripture and help us enter into the holy mystery of the redemptive suffering of Christ.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by participating in the Holy Week services of the church, not just by attending, but also by preparing, by studying the readings, entering into the spirit, offering our services as ministers of the Word or Eucharist, decorating the church or preparing the environment for worship.

Let us sing, "Lord, have mercy," and "Hosanna." Let us praise the Lord with our whole heart and soul and mind and strength, uniting with the suffering church throughout the world -- in Rome and Northern Ireland, in Syria and Lebanon, in South Africa and Angola, India and China, Nicaragua and El Salvador, in Washington and Jackson.

Let us break bread together; let us relive the holy and redemptive mystery. Let us do it in memory of him, acknowledging in faith his real presence upon our altars.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by sharing holy peace and joy within our families, sharing family prayer on a regular basis, making every meal a holy meal where loving conversations bond family members in unity, sharing family work without grumbling, making love not war, asking forgiveness for past hurts and forgiving one another from the heart, seeking to go all the way for love as Jesus went all the way for love.

Let us resolve to make this week holy by sharing holy peace and joy with the needy, the alienated, the lonely, the sick and afflicted, the untouchable.

Let us unite our sufferings, inconveniences and annoyances with the suffering of Jesus. Let us stretch ourselves, going beyond our comfort zones to unite ourselves with Christ's redemptive work.

We unite ourselves with Christ's redemptive work when we reconcile, when we make peace, when we share the good news that God is in our lives, when we reflect to our brothers and sisters God's healing, God's forgiveness, God's unconditional love.

Let us be practical, reaching out across the boundaries of race and class and status to
help somebody, to encourage and affirm somebody, offering to the young an incentive to learn and grow, offering to the downtrodden resources to help themselves.

May our fasting be the kind that saves and shares with the poor, that actually contacts the needy, that gives heart to heart, that touches and nourishes and heals.

During this Holy Week when Jesus gave his life for love, let us truly love one another.

This is what the liturgy teaches us!

I was going to post this famous setting of Ubi caritas by French composer Maurice Durufle (1902-86) tomorrow, but since Sr. Thea signed off with those words, it seems fitting today. The English text is below the video.




Where charity and love are, there God is.

The love of Christ has gathered us into one flock.
Let us exult, and in Him be joyful.
Let us fear and let us love the living God.
And from a sincere heart let us love each other.

Therefore, whensoever we are gathered as one:
Lest we in mind be divided, let us beware.
Let cease malicious quarrels, let strife give way.
And in the midst of us be Christ our God.

Together also with the blessed may we see,
Gloriously, Thy countenance, O Christ our God:
A joy which is immense, and also approved:
Through infinite ages of ages.Amen.