Sunday, February 23, 2025

 

Give, and gifts will be given to you Homily for the 7th Sunday Ordinary Time  

1 Sm 26:2, 7-9, 12-13, 22-23

Ps 103

1 Cor 15:45-49

Lk 6:27-38

 

The first reading is instructive. The second one is explanatory.  The gospel is prescriptive.   And the psalm offers consolation in our struggles.

 

The first reading instructs us on the difference between envy and jealousy, words that are oftentimes used interchangeably as if they were synonyms. They are not. The distinction is important.

 

Envy and jealousy are different emotions that drive different behaviors. The behaviors associated with jealousy are potentially more damaging, destructive, and dangerous than the behaviors characteristic of envy, though envy may deteriorate into violent jealousy.

 

Envy means coveting or wanting what someone else has. It can drive positive behaviors or disastrously maladaptive ones depending on the individual and what he or she envies. It can motivate someone to work harder, such as a student who envies a classmates grades  and wants similar ones.  Mulling over the envy may precipitate the realization that less time gaming and more studying may garner the same grades.  However, envy that puts someone into financial distress because "I want the same Mercedes that my neighbor has" or "I gotta' have those granite counter tops like my sister's" is destructive. 

 

Rather than wanting what the other has jealousy is fear, sometimes a delusional fear,  that someone will take what I have from me.  It can drive violent, destructive, and even murderous behavior.  See Shakespeare for elaboration on the theme of jealousy.

 

The story of Saul and David is one of envy that deteriorated into homicidal jealousy on Saul's part. The tragedy began with Saul envying David's popularity and skill.  Saul wanted people to sing his praises the way they sang David's.  With time Saul became obsessed that David would usurp his power. That obsession drove his desire to kill David to prevent that from happening.

 

For his part, David was far from perfect.  He was a man with serious flaws, who sunk to an abysmal low in his affair with Bathsheba.  Like all of us he was a sinner: a sinner who was loved by God and forgiven when he repented. though the penalty for that sin was harsh.  In this particular narrative, however, he showed himself to be virtuous when he refused to kill Saul despite the perfect opportunity to do so. "Today, though the Lord delivered you into my grasp, I would not harm the Lord's anointed.”

 

The politicians of both parties in this country could learn a lot from David.  Envy, jealousy, and their associated behaviors are rampant in the halls of congress and state legislatures, and in just about any other venue one can name. While not rare in Rome that is a homily for another time.

 

Attempted murder is generally frowned upon in the halls of government, at least in the U.S. But character assassination, false accusations, backstabbing, and slander on social media are modern equivalents.  Destroying another's reputation can be as lethal as a spear through the heart.

 

The second reading explains the reason for sinful human behavior in concise terms.

 

Adam, the first man, was from the earth and of the earth.  Thus, Paul wrote: "As was the earthly one, so also are the earthly." We will be reminded of our earthly origins in eleven days as ashes are imposed on our foreheads with the formula, "Recall that thou art dust and to dust thou shalt return."  No getting around that fact. We are from the earth and will return to it in due course.

 

Jesus, the new Adam, was of heaven. In his obedience, he atoned for the sin of Adam the original sin that we carry within us, the sin of arrogance and pride.  Jesus the heavenly man is the image we desire. That image is within our grasp. As Paul wrote, "Just as we have borne the image of the earthly one, we shall also bear the image of the heavenly one."

 

But how can those of the earth bear the image of the one of heaven?  The prescription is given in the gospel. It is not an easy-to-fill prescription, it is definitely not an over-the-counter remedy.

 

Love your enemies . . . .

Bless those who curse you . . .  

Offer unstinting generosity . . .

Do to others as you would have them do unto you . . .

 

Some of the prescriptions are particularly challenging today:

 

Do not judge . . . .

Do not condemn . . .

Forgive and be forgiven . . .

 

The challenges are great and cannot be lived univocally.  When is calling something sin judgmental and when is it necessary to call sin for what it is? When must we forgive? What is unforgiveable?  When is it possible to restore trust?   When must we remain forever untrusting of another?

 

Each of us must struggle to answer these questions for him or herself.  The struggle is eased by the consolations in the psalm: 

 

"He pardons all your iniquities,
heals all your ills.
He redeems your life from destruction,
crowns you with kindness and compassion."

 

True, we must ask for that pardon and healing, ideally through the sacrament of confession.  Ideally, it helps us to amend our lives.  But . . . . pardon, redemption, and healing are there for the asking.

 

“Merciful and gracious is the LORD,
slow to anger and abounding in kindness.
Not according to our sins does he deal with us,
nor does he requite us according to our crimes."

 

In response to this consolation we can only sing with the psalmist to acknowledge that "The Lord is kind and merciful."

 

__________________________________________________

It hit forty in  Boston today triggering thoughts of flowers, and spring, and being "Out In the Country" . . . . great song. 

 




 

 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Saturday, February 15, 2025

The Foundation: Homily for the 6th Sunday in Ordinary Time

 

Jer 17:5-8

Ps 1

1 Cor 15:12, 16-20

Lk 6:17, 20-26

 

"Happy is the man

who has not followed the counsel of the wicked,

or taken the path of sinners,

but for whom the teaching of the Lord is his delight . . .

 

Not so the wicked;

they are like chaff that wind blows away.

The wicked will not survive judgment

in the assembly of the righteous."

Thus begins the psalter; the Church's ancient prayer book of 150 hymns, that comprise most of the Liturgy of the Hours. The importance of the psalms for the Church's liturgy cannot be overemphasized. There is no time of the day that the psalms are not being recited or chanted, be it in hurried fashion by a busy religious holding a breviary with multi-colored ribbon markers, the monk or nun using with neumes of ancient Gregorian chants in choir in the middle of the night, or, in a modern development, from the backlit screen of an iPad or iPhone while waiting to board at an airport.

The introduction of the responsorial psalm into the Mass was a positive development that allowed for greater familiarity with these hymns.  While the importance of the psalms cannot be overemphasized, it is similarly difficult to overemphasize the importance of this first psalm to the rest of the psalter.

In one of his homilies on Psalm 1, St. Basil the Great indicated that the foundations and structures around things and upon which things are constructed, must be proportionate to their purpose and size.  The foundation of a tall building must be sunk deep into the earth if it is to support the structure's height and weight. The keel of a large merchant ship must be sufficiently large and deep to keep it steady in rough seas.  Thus, the psalms that are so important to the spiritual life of the Church and the individual, must have a firm and deeply anchored starting point.  Sometimes called Beatus Vir, Psalm 1 has been set to music by many composers including Mozart in his exquisite Solemn Vespers of the Confessor.  Beatus vir is that starting point, foundation, and steadying keel of which Basil speaks.  Both the first reading and the gospel rely on it.

Biblical scholars are uncertain about the dating of the psalms. Estimates range from  10th century BC to 5th  century BC to as late as the second century BC.  Current opinion is that many of the first 50 came into use before the 59 year exile from Jerusalem  that began in 587 BC and ended in 538.  More important than the specific dating or composer of the psalms is their importance as poetic songs that have transmitted truth for millennia and the responses to them of each individual who prays them.

Unlike Matthew's eight beatitudes, all of which follow the same pattern of consolation "Blessed are they who . .  . . for they will be . . ." Luke enumerates the woes that will befall those who fail to trust in the Lord.   Thus, while the first four statements in what is known as  The Sermon on the Plain begins with the personal "Blessed are you . . . ." the tone changes in the final four statements that begin with, "But woe to you who . . . "

These woes are addressed to those who are rich and satiated, who laugh and are well-thought of.  The woes don't necessarily condemn those who are materially wealthy, happy, have enough to eat, and are renown and respected.  Rather, they stand as a warning to the comfortable of the world whose prosperity and notoriety has turned them away from God and the demands of His covenant.  Those whose love of power, or narcissistic enchantment with their own abilities, drives them to flaunt God's law.

Subtly underlying the woes is the reminder that worldly comfort can change over night. The stock market crash of 1929 set off a ten-year long economic depression from which many never recovered. In our day the 'covid crash' has had similarly catastrophic effects on the lives and well-being of many, particularly those who are, or were not, materially comfortable to begin with.  And the negative impact of unnecessarily closing schools for months will echo for generations to come.  But there was an even more malignant side to the covid crash. That is in the treatment of others.

Were this gospel to continue further, though still be within the Sermon on the Plain,  we would hear Jesus' teaching on love for one's enemies, for the other, for the one whom we interpret as a threat or danger. Alas, U.S. society has taken a tack of persecuting those who do not toe the party line.

I am still at a loss to explain the column that appeared a few years ago on Medscape, a physician's website.  Written by alleged bioethicist Arthur Caplan of NYU the attention-grabbing title was: "It's OK for Docs to Refuse to Treat Unvaccinated Patients." Fortunately, Caplan is just a PhD and not a physician entrusted with the care of patients. While I cannot share my initial response to the column in sacred space without risking a lightening strike, the fallout was swift and sure with over 1000 comments on a website in which 100 comments is an enormous response.  The majority ranged from negative to condemnatory, including one contributor who declared he was discontinuing his subscription. 

Not only is not OK to refuse to treat non-vaccinated patients it is immoral to refuse treatment on that basis, not unlike those passers-by who ignored a brutalized man until a Samaritan happened upon the scene.

Back in the early-80s when AIDS was still a mysterious illness the hue and cry against physicians who refused to treat AIDS patients or those whose lifestyles put them at risk was loud. Apparently things have changed such that it is OK to refuse to treat those with whose decisions we don’t agree.  Of course the usual suspects in Hollywood emerged from the woodwork to pontificate including a suggestion that it is OK to punch the unvaccinated in the face.  These are the ways of the wicked to which the psalmist refers.

We are living through very dark ethical and moral times.  Happy the one who follows not the counsels of the wicked, but rather the way of the Lord   . . . . .even when that way is difficult and perhaps dangerous.  

 

______________________________________________________

 

Photos of a farm in rural Connecticut.  Probably going to look a lot like that tomorrow morning.  I have no idea why the spacing at the top is so bizarre.  Did the usual copy and paste routine but . . . .

 




 

Saturday, February 8, 2025

For the 52nd Annual March for Life

24 January 2025 Wednesday was the Day of Prayer for the Protection of Unborn Children. At 1:00 PM today the 52nd annual March for Life will step off in D.C. Fifty-two years of prayerful protest against abortion and, a more recent addition, the intentional killing of the ill elderly. I taught at Georgetown University School of Medicine for ten years. Georgetown is the location for the annual Cardinal O’Connor Conference on Life. That will happen tomorrow January 25. All of these events were, and remain, necessary responses to the U.S. Supreme Court's disastrous Roe vs. Wade decision of January 22, 1973 and society’s enthusiastic embrace of killing the most vulnerable at both ends of the age spectrum. Though now repealed with the lawmaking returned to the states, Roe v. Wade sent American society down a slippery slope of killing the unplanned, the imperfect, the undesirable, and the inconveniently sick and elderly. While initially Roe vs. Wade set a three-month limit during which abortion was considered legal, things have changed. Late-term abortion, i.e. after twenty weeks gestation and for some, up to the point of viability, has been approved in a number of states with legislation pending in others. A column in the Washington Post from February 1, 2019 contained the following startling quote. "This week in Virginia, Delegate Kathy Tran (D-Fairfax) admitted that, yes, her bill would allow a doctor to perform an abortion after the mother had gone into labor—a position that Democratic Gov. Ralph Northam, a pediatric neurologist by training bizarrely (and ineptly) defended in a radio interview." Massachusetts has made multiple attempts to approve what is euphemistically called "assisted dying," so far to no avail. A bill will come up in New York shortly with a similar intent. When did old age, handicap, or terminal illness, become capital offenses demanding a prescribed, planned, and intentional death? In his encyclical Evangelium Vitae, St. John Paul II condemned "therapeutic interventions--which accept life only under certain conditions and reject it when it is affected by any limitation, handicap, or illness." As if to prove John Paul's condemnation, Iceland, through prenatal testing and post-test abortion, has almost eliminated Down Syndrome or Trisomy 21 from its population. John Paul pointed out in his encyclical: "A danger today is the tendency to disguise certain crimes against life in its early or final stages by using innocuous medical terms which distract attention from the fact that what is involved is the right to life of an actual human person." Killing the sick and sick elderly is considerably more accurate than physician prescribed death. Women's Health is a clever term to disguise abortion. While St. John Paul II picked up on the manipulation of language he seems to have missed the severe editing of long standing codes of conductin the world of medicine. Sadly, medical schools shoulder much of the blame. In ancient times Hippocratic physicians, pronounced and lived according to the Oath Attributed to Hippocrates. It was not universally administered nor did all physicians abide by its precepts, thus the designation Hippocratic physicians separated those who took the oath from non-Hippocratic physicians, those who didn’t. The bowdlerized “oath” administered these days is a trite med school graduation exercise performed so that mommy can dab at her eyes and daddy can bust his buttons. The modern versions are unrecognizable when compared to the original. The promises to live ethically and morally, and the promise to revere and respect the onewho taught the young physician the art of medicine, have all been deleted. A new physician no longer swears: "Into whatsoever houses I enter, . . .I will abstain from all intentional wrong-doing and harm, especially from abusing the bodies of man or woman," Today's young doctors do not say: "I will use treatment to help the sick . . . but never with a view to injury and wrong-doing. Neither will I administer a poison to anybody when asked to do so, nor will I suggest such a course . . . . Similarly I will not give to a woman a pessary to cause abortion. But I will keep pure and holy both my life and my art." The Hippocratic oath is thought to have been composed between the third and fifth centuries B.C. suggesting that the sanctity of vulnerable life was more respected by pagans than it is by today's shrill proponents and their fellow travelers. Unfortunately, there will be a 53rd Annual March for Life and probably a 54th and 55th as well. The need for witness will be even greater over the coming years as vulnerable and defenseless human life remains under assault in novel forms such as puberty blockers. We pray in thanksgiving for those who will march in D.C. a bit later today, particularly the legions of young people who traveled from all over the country. We pray for the victims of unnatural executions, the Holy Innocents of today. We pray for the collateral damage to families. The cost is much higher than anyone realizes. We pray for the conversion of heart of abortionists and those who would execute the sick elderly. We pray for their collaborators who administer the anesthesia, prep the patient, and assure the patient that she is doing the absolutely right thing or that grandma’s family is acting in her best interest. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace.

 

You Called?  Homily for the 5th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Is 6:1-8

Ps 138:1-8

1 Cor 15:1-11

Lk 5:1-11

 

Ideally there is a common thread that joins the readings proclaimed at Mass.  Sometimes it is fairly easy to spot while at others one may have to look carefully.  And yes, there are times that only two of the three readings seem to work together while the other appears to have been dropped in from outer space.  The  common thread holding together today’s first and second reading along with the gospel is that of being called and sent.  The readings and the gospel are, in fact, vocation stories not unlike vocations discerned today.

 

For many Catholics, particularly those who went to parochial schools, vocation had only one meaning:  a call to the priesthood or vowed religious life as a nun, sister, or brother.  Indeed, much was transmitted in the statement, “He has a vocation.”  But a vocation is much more than simply a call to priesthood or vowed religious life.  Recently a neurologist who was examining me noted that he is a practicing Catholic who discerned that his vocation is to marriage.  Many feel called to vocations that are quite different from what they or their family expected.  Some are shocked to find that the work and life in which they are engaged must change dramatically upon discerning and accepting a vocation. 

 

Dolores Hart, now Mother Dolores, has been a cloistered Benedictine nun at the Abbey of Regina Laudis in Bethlehem, CT since 1963. She entered after she had made ten successful feature films, including “Where the Boys Are” and “Come Fly With Me.”  She is still at Regina Laudis today now age 86.  She gave the perfect description of a vocation when she wrote   “Most people don’t understand the difference between a vocation and your own idea about something.  A vocation is a call—one you don’t necessarily want.  She went on to explain that all she ever wanted to be was an actress but she was called by God to an entirely different life.   It was a call that sent shock waves through all of Hollywood and the movie industry.

 

A call from God explains Isaiah in the first reading.  That same kind of call defines  Paul in the second reading and the responses of Peter, James, and John in the Gospel.  Each received a call.  It was neither easy nor smooth. Isaiah was particularly clear that it was a call he did not want.  But each of them accepted it and agreed, at least tacitly, to be sent.  

 

Reading or hearing vocation stories is endlessly fascinating.  Some can tell the exact moment when, like Peter, James, and John, they heard the call and responded immediately.  Others, like Paul, took much longer to realize they were being called to a specific way of life, a specific profession, to a vocation. 

 

Recognizing a vocation is not necessarily easy.  Oftentimes the realization of one’s vocation is accompanied by fear, anxiety, and disbelief.  Both Isaiah and Paul are specific about the fear and trepidation they experienced upon realizing their call to serve God.  Things haven’t changed. 

 

One of the more terrifying moments of entering religious life is the first few days after the door has closed.  Mother Dolores wrote about her first night in cell, “I lay awake on the cot for a long time.  I reached out my arm . . .  I could touch the opposite wall . . .  I lay there, terrified by the enormity of the step I had taken.  I cried myself to sleep that night.  I cried myself to sleep every night for the next three years”  Peter, for his part, said “Depart from me Lord, for I am a sinful man.”  It is as if all of Peter’s faults were magnified in that one instant, granting him an insight he might not otherwise have had.   

 

Such is the power of receiving one’s vocation and suddenly realizing one’s unworthiness.  And then realizing God’s care for us which allows us to sing with the psalmist:

 

“Your kindness, O LORD, endures forever;
forsake not the work of your hands.

Forsake not the work of your hands.”

 

 ____________________________________________________

Photos are from St Joseph Trappist Abbey from the fall of 2014.  I was making my final vow retreat there.  Just spent all of today there but without camera.   Depending on the route it is an easy 75 minute drive.  Beautiful place. 


Only the second time I managed to get a decent shot of a dragon fly. 

The rose window at the back of the monastic church.  The stained glass is predominantly blue

The Salve window at behind the main altar.  After compline the window is backlit, lights exinguished, and the monks chant the Salve Regina. 


The main alter and tabernacle. 


Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

 

 

Saturday, February 1, 2025

Let There Be Light: Homily for the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

 

Mal 3:1-4

Ps 24

Heb 2:14-18

Lk 2:22-40

 

Rarely does the celebration of a feast trump the liturgy for a particular Sunday, even in ordinary time.  Today is one of those exceptions. The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord is historically known as Candlemas.  It was the day on which the Church blessed the beeswax candles for use in the coming year. I don't think there is a blessing for the paraffin-fueled fakes that sit on too many altars.

 

The Gospel for the Feast of the Presentation includes the exquisite Nunc Dimittis, the equivalent of the Church’s lullaby when intoned at Compline.

 

Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domine,

secundum verbum tuum in pace:

 

"O Lord, now you let your servant go in peace

Your word has been fulfilled . . . "

 

Through detailed descriptions, that occur early in and are unique to his gospel, Luke gives us a window into the dynamics and relationships in Jesus’ early family life.  These vignettes include, the Visitation, Jesus’ birth,  and His presentation at the Temple.  Luke's narrative of Jesus in the Temple when He was 12 is the only glimpse we get of Him during what Ignatius calls, "The Hidden Life of Jesus" in the  Exercises.  The details Luke supplies are family snapshots that remind us that Mary and Joseph were observant Jews who fulfilled all the religious laws and customs demanded of them. These details remind us that Jesus was like us in all things but sin. 

 

We just heard In the second reading "Since the children share in blood and flesh,

Jesus likewise shared in them, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death . . . and free those who, through fear of death, had been subject to slavery all their life."

 

Jesuit Theologian Karl Rahner pointed out an important fact when he wrote that

Jesus; “came into the world the same way we did in order to come to terms with the given facts of human existence,  . . . and to begin to die”

The given facts of human existence, particularly the inevitable suffering and certain death we all face are not always easy to understand.  Many rage violently against those facts.  Many rage even more violently against the fact that those we love  must suffer and die as well.  Here we turn to Mary.

 

Simeon’s cryptic comment  “and you yourself, a sword will pierce” warns her of the pain to come. What did Mary feel when she heard these words?  Did she recall them later as she stood at the foot of the cross? There is no pain greater than that of a parent who buries a child at any stage in the child's life from stillbirth to the child in old age. There is crushing pain in watching a parent, a husband, or a wife, moving through the stages of dementia.  Pain defines coping with the harsh realities of cancer or the myriad of other diseases that lead to death.  All of us will have our hearts pierced with a sword many times in our lives and will carry those wounds with us until our own deaths. 

 

"And suddenly there will come to the temple the LORD whom you seek,  And the messenger of the covenant whom you desire.  Yes, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts."  The Gospel tells us that Malachi's prophecy was fulfilled.  Held in His parents' arms in the Temple Jesus was recognized only by two old people whose eyes were open.  Jesus was recognized by an old woman and an old man who were awaiting the Lord, and were disposed to recognize Him when He came. 

 

The narrative of the Presentation is one of the rare times in the New Testament when we hear the voices of the elderly.  Simeon and Anna are us. They are examples for us because, with the wisdom exclusive to the elderly, they recognized Jesus in the infant brought into the Temple. They realized the grace of Jesus' presence. They knew of God's promise and were eagerly awaiting the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One the One in whose presence they now found themselves.

 

We are challenged daily to recognize Jesus when we encounter Him, wherever we encounter Him and in whomever we encounter Him: the adolescent at school, the child noisily exploring the world, and most critically to recognize Jesus in those children being carried in their mothers' wombs; the children who have been under concerted attack for decades.  We are called to recognize Jesus in the elderly patient afflicted with dementia, and in the old men and women dying of other illnesses as well. We are called to recognize Jesus in all whom we encounter.

 

Lent begins on Ash Wednesday March 5, almost as late as it can be.  We will hear more in the Gospel narratives how Jesus was like us in pain, suffering, and death, how Jesus was like us in all things but succumbing to temptation.

 

Today on Candlemas we celebrate that Jesus is the light of the world, a light that can never be extinguished.

 

_____________________________________________

The photos of candles come from several locations in Lyon, France, the U.S. and Slovenia. 

 








 Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Monday, January 27, 2025

ON THE OCCASION OF THE 52ND ANNUAL MARCH FOR LIFE

 

24 January 2025

 

Wednesday was the Day of Prayer for the Protection of Unborn Children.   At 1:00 PM today the 52nd annual March for Life will step off in D.C.  Fifty-two  years of prayerful protest against abortion and, a more recent addition, the intentional killing of the ill elderly. I taught at Georgetown University School of Medicine for ten years. Georgetown is the location for the annual Cardinal O’Connor Conference on Life.  That will happen tomorrow January 25.  All of these events were, and remain, necessary responses to the U.S. Supreme Court's disastrous Roe vs. Wade decision of January 22, 1973 and society’s enthusiastic embrace of killing the most vulnerable at both ends of the age spectrum.

 

Though now repealed with the lawmaking returned to the states, Roe v. Wade sent American society down a slippery slope of killing the unplanned, the imperfect, the undesirable, and the inconveniently sick and elderly.  While initially Roe vs. Wade set a three-month limit during which abortion was considered legal, things have changed.

 

Late-term abortion, i.e. after twenty weeks gestation and for some, up to the point of viability, has been approved in a number of states with legislation pending in others.  A column in the Washington Post from February 1, 2019 contained the following startling quote.  "This week in Virginia, Delegate Kathy Tran (D-Fairfax) admitted that, yes, her bill would allow a doctor to perform an abortion after the mother had gone into labor—a position that Democratic Gov. Ralph Northam, a pediatric neurologist by training bizarrely (and ineptly) defended in a radio interview."  Massachusetts has made multiple attempts to approve what is euphemistically called "assisted dying," so far to no avail.  A bill will come up in New York shortly with a similar intent.  When did old age, handicap, or terminal illness, become capital offenses demanding a prescribed, planned, and intentional death?

 

In his encyclical Evangelium Vitae, St. John Paul II condemned "therapeutic interventions--which accept life only under certain conditions and reject it when it is affected by any limitation, handicap, or illness."  As if to prove John Paul's condemnation, Iceland, through prenatal testing and post-test abortion, has almost eliminated Down Syndrome or Trisomy 21 from its population. 

 

John Paul pointed out in his encyclical:  "A danger today is the tendency to disguise certain crimes against life in its early or final stages by using innocuous medical terms

which distract attention from the fact that what is involved is the right to life of an actual human person." Killing the sick and sick elderly is considerably more accurate than physician prescribed death.  Women's Health is a clever term to disguise abortion.

 

While St. John Paul II picked up on the manipulation of language he seems to have missed the severe editing of long standing codes of conductin the world of medicine.

Sadly, medical schools shoulder much of the blame.

 

In ancient times Hippocratic physicians, pronounced and lived according to the Oath Attributed to Hippocrates. It was not universally administered nor did all physicians abide by its precepts, thus the designation Hippocratic physicians separated those who took the oath from non-Hippocratic physicians, those who didn’t.  The bowdlerized “oath” administered these days is a trite med school graduation exercise performed so that mommy can dab at her eyes and daddy can bust his buttons.  The modern versions are unrecognizable when compared to the original.  The promises to live ethically and morally, and the promise to revere and respect the one who taught the young physician the art of medicine,  have all been deleted.  A new physician no longer swears: "Into whatsoever houses I enter, . . .I will abstain from all intentional wrong-doing and harm, especially from abusing the bodies of man or woman," Today's young doctors do not say: "I will use treatment to help the sick . . . but never with a view to injury and wrong-doing.  Neither will I administer a poison to anybody when asked to do so, nor will I suggest such a course . . . . Similarly I will not give to a woman a pessary to cause abortion. But I will keep pure and holy both my life and my art." 

 

The Hippocratic oath is thought to have been composed between the third and fifth centuries B.C. suggesting that the sanctity of vulnerable life was more respected by pagans than it is by today's shrill proponents and their fellow travelers. Unfortunately, there will be a 53rd Annual March for Life and probably a 54th and 55th as well.  The need for witness will be even greater over the coming years as vulnerable and defenseless human life remains under assault in novel forms such as puberty blockers.

 

We pray in thanksgiving for those who will march in D.C. a bit later today, particularly the legions of young people who traveled from all over the country.  We pray for the victims of unnatural executions, the Holy Innocents of today.  We pray for the collateral damage to families.  The cost is much higher than anyone realizes.  We pray for the conversion of heart of abortionists and those who would execute the sick elderly.  We pray for their collaborators who administer the anesthesia, prep the patient, and assure the patient that she is doing the absolutely right thing or that grandma’s family is acting

in her best interest.

 

Requiem aeternam

dona eis, Domine,

et lux perpetua luceat eis.

Requiescant in pace. 

 

_____________________________________________

Meant to post this on Friday but one thing led to another and I neglected to do so.  However, the topic is important.   


Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Saturday, January 25, 2025

Be All That You Can Be: Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Ordinary Time

 

Neh 8:2-4a, 5-6, 8-10

Ps 19 8-15

I Cor 12:12-30

Lk 1:1-4; 4:14-21

 

A basic truth when studying scripture is that one cannot understand the New Testament without first understanding the Old.  It is impossible to know the New Testament without knowing the Old Testament, the long compilation of the history of the People of the Covenant and a rich treasury of prayers.

 

Nehemiah was written in the fifth century before Christ.  The book details the story of a people returned from a long exile.  They were confused. They had no knowledge of the Torah. They were oblivious of the covenant between God and his people.

 

When Nehemiah learned that the wall surrounding Jerusalem had been destroyed he vowed to rebuild it.  When the reconstruction of Jerusalem's wall was complete, all the people: men, women, and children above a certain age, were summoned before Ezra who read and interpreted the Torah to them.

The people wept when they heard words of the Law. They wept because they realized their guilt in not upholding the law of the Lord.  They were overcome with sorrow.  However, Ezra did not condemn them.  In his mercy he told them not to weep. but to eat, drink, and celebrate for the day was holy to the Lord.

 

Paul's letter is important, particularly when one considers today's hysterical and occasionally delusional social climate. Each of us has been given unique gifts. We have not been given identical gifts.  Our task is to discover and develop the gifts unique to each of us rather than pining for those we do not have and will never be able to develop. 

 

“. . . a body is one though it has many parts . . .”  This is an important idea to which Paul will return.  Certain sectors of society deny the possibility, to say nothing of the reality, of differences and distinctions.  Indeed, there are concerted attempts to erase them, even when those difference are biologically determined

and cannot be legitimately modified or maintained. This mode of thinking is nothing more than an extreme version of particularity with a grandiose and narcissistic sense of specialness. Each individual or faction insists that his, her, or its specialness is the most special of all specialness  and thus deserves precedence if not pride of place.  Statements to the contrary generally result in the equivalent of a shrieked, "My equality trumps your equality" followed by the invention of a new 'ism' or 'phobia' to throw about. This may be followed by a ranting talk show appearance demanding an apology with public penance.

 

As recent events have shown, we have made no progress since the Salem Witch trials   that took place a mere 73 miles north of Boston.  Indeed, American society

seems to be regressing to the same mean as the hysterical accusers of 1692. 

When feeling is allowed to trump fact, when political correctness is given precedence over basic science  and reality, we are in serious trouble as a society.  And we are.

 

Medical students hear amusing anecdotes about the struggle for supremacy within the body.  Most of these can never be shared in sacred space or in front of one’s parents.  The general outline is a debate in which each of the body's organs or organ systems is arguing about which of them is the most important; 

to the life, comfort, and well-being of the individual.   But you know what? 

There is no supreme organ or organ system.  No capo di tutti capi.  There is no pope of the body.  Each of the body's organs and systems is equally necessary for normal function and survival.  The lungs cannot do the work of the liver. 

The liver cannot do the work of the heart.  The pancreas cannot do the work of the kidneys no matter how much it might want to identify as a kidney. And nothing can cover and protect the body except the skin.  If any vital organ or organ system is seriously damaged or malfunctional, the entire body is at risk of death.  It really is that simple. 

 

None of us is the social or biological equivalent of a stem cell that is pluripotent. 

None of us can be anything he or she wants to be, depending only upon our dreams, our passions, or, to use an unfortunate term from the past, following our bliss. We cannot decide to be whatever we "identify ourselves to be" particularly when that violates both natural law and the dictates of human physiology.  The saying "you can be whatever you want to be" is one of the greatest lies in the long history of lying.

 

We all have specific genetic endowments.  We all have unique cognitive strengths and weaknesses. We all have assets and liabilities. We are all limited in some ways and strong in others.  The only thing we have in common is that we are sinners.  No exceptions. 

 

The comforting news is that we are sinners equally loved by God.  That is the only equality any of us will ever know.

 

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There was a period when I was covering a parish down near the Rhode Island border.  It was not far from Horseneck Beach,a beautiful Massachusetts State Park. The photos below are from November several years ago.  November and beyond is my favorite time on a beach. 



 









Fr Jack, SJ, MD