Friend X from away back is alarmed and looks for explanation and why not?

With the attack on the Minnesota Catholic church and school, I thought I would hear what our pastor had to say about it. Seemed like a good opportunity to address what I think was on the minds of millions of Catholics: How did God let this happen?

“How?” First, it’s one of millions (countless!) that He lets happen.

Quick answer, it’s that or abolish free will. God wants people, not robots, as objects of His you might say rapt attention and potential returners of their rapt attention.

Robots or people capable of heroisms or horrors? That was His option. Zombies or puppets? Dumb animals, supreme gardens, ocean, lakes, rivers? Stars, planets, meteors? Not enough for Him. Get it?

“God’s in His heaven, All’s right with the world!” was Pippa’s song as she passed the open window in the Browning poem.

Does God “intervene in human affairs”? you ask.

Or is he like the watchmaker? . . . . the flock is troubled and needs to hear from the shepherd. A touch of comfort?

Not this time. Rather, the preacher “stuck religiously to the prescribed Vatican II formula: Lecture us on the meaning of today’s gospel.”

He added:

True enough, the gospel does raise some needed thoughts, such as my fear of little me getting judged by the Almighty, Creator of the Universe. Standing (kneeling) in front of Him, He looking me in the eye; sends shivers down my spine.

Ah, He pays attention, takes it seriously.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’m interested in your thoughts about the priest deviating from the prescription prescribed by . . . men in Rome.”

Needn’t ignore it. Basing sermons on Scripture is least of our worries about what comes from Rome.

Finding in Scripture and running with a deep thought is good idea, deeper the better, allowing for receptivity of audience, getting them where they live without shocking them. Not usually, anyhow. At same time, not good to ignore horrid events headlined coast-to-coast.

As this one, horrible murders by an apparently deranged young man-turned-woman (!) of school kids and teachers in church.

My friend adds:

With all this in mind I read almost your [long, long] entire post yesterday, at least until I could safely think that I get it.

I also miss the Latin mass. I too am uncomfortable with the “show” with performers on the upfront stage.

(In college we often blasphemed by calling it the “magic show.” How right we were, it turns out.) I particularly liked the comment about the glitter of the vestments and the gaudy display of gold, etc.: Jesus didn’t wear the like.

Yes, keeping in mind our imitation of Jesus has naught to say about how he dressed.

Which . . . raised a question in my mind: If women can’t be priests because of a tradition that Jesus was a man and had male apostles, why does the tradition of modesty and tradition [not?] apply to priestly garments?

Apples and oranges if ever there was one, my friend. Tradition is of the church, 2,000 years, argued out and decided by institutional descendants of Apostles and popes, transferring what was believed from it’s beginning and applied and interpreted.

I know I heard (in reference to the beautiful churches and cathedrals) that God is deserving of the best we have. Not that I disagree with this Middle Ages explanation, and yet…. St. Francis comes to mind.

. . . who taught the church a thing or two about oft-forgotten practices and norms, as did saints throughout.

As for churches and cathedrals, reminders of God’s grandeur and saints and martyrs and all things supernatural, we might compare them to nuts-and-bolts newbie structures of our days, down-to-business buildings that imitate and tell us what? I ask you.

“Well that’s enough to chew on for this Sabbath,” says my friend. “Peace be to you.”

. . . and to you too, my friend. Come again . . .