Father Magiera responds to Rabbi Dennis Sasso
The following article appeared in the Conversations section of the Indianapolis Star on Tuesday, April 1, 2008. Some might consider the date peculiarly apt. The piece is entitled, “Watching Your Pulpit Manners,” and was written by Rabbi Dennis Sasso, Senior Rabbi at Congregation Beth-El Zedeck in Indianapolis. My response to his article follows. My response is quite lengthy and full of biographical and anecdotal material. I believe it was important to include such material to establish a philosophical context and to provide support in proving my point. I entrusted my response to local editors with a request to pare it down to a size any newspaper might consider publishing.
After trying to whittle down my response, the editors informed me that too much essential material would be lost. They suggested I write a new piece, addressing the Pope’s visit to the USA, his wish for meaningful dialogue and his firm intention to build bridges and, at the same time, tying in an abbreviated response to Rabbi Sasso’s article.
This I did.
With Monsignor Schaedel’s gracious permission, I commend the entire set to the Holy Rosary website.
I have reason to believe that some version of my lengthy response to Rabbi Sasso’s article will appear, once again with Monsignor’s permission, in an issue of “The Remnant.” I am also happy to report that the Indianapolis Star published my shorter “Opinion Piece” on Tuesday, April 22, 2008. I also include that piece at the end. Each piece is labeled for clarity.
It must be understood that I do not offer any of this material in the quest for any personal gain or notoriety. My name, as such, is not what is important. The defense of the Catholic Church, Her liturgy and Her teachings, in the face of worldwide anti-Catholicism, the “last acceptable prejudice,” is what is important.
Rev. Michael W. Magiera, FSSP
Associate Pastor
Rabbi Sasso’s Article
Watching your pulpit manners
(N.B. This article is transcribed word for word in exact detail, even down to spelling, capitalization and punctuation.)
The recent celebration of Christianity’s Holy Week coincided with the week when the media were frantically engaged with reports of Barack Obama’s former pastor Jeremiah Wright’s incendiary remarks form the pulpit, and Obama’s artful response. Hence, the news paid scant attention to the fact that Pope Benedict XVI had, in an act of interfaith insensitivity, reauthorized the use of an old prayer in the Good Friday Mass that dated back to the 16th century (Council of Trent). In its original form the passage contained a reference to the “perfidious Jews” and prayed for their conversion:
“Let us pray also for the Jews that the Lord our God may take the veil from their hearts and that they also may acknowledge our Lord Jesus Christ. Hear the prayers which we offer for the blindness of that people so that they may acknowledge the light of your truth, and be delivered from thief darkness.”
After Vatican II, the church had virtually outlawed this prayer as contrary to the teachings and spirit of a new relationship with the Jewish people and faith. When in April 1986 Pope John Paul II visited the Great Synagogue of Rome, he affirmed that God’s covenant with the Jews was “irrevocable” and pronounced an end to the Catholic mission to “save” the Jews, saying that as Jews and Christians “we shall each be faithful to our own sacred commitments.”
What accounts for the shift back to older theological negative references? Why are painful, derogatory and intolerant messages so commonly delivered and accepted from pulpits in the name of faith? Religious leaders who profess a message of God’s love are often caught up in a web of denigration, vitriol and toxic rhetoric that may seem faithful to them but is insensitive and dangerous to inter-faith relations and social harmony.
In the name of piety we hear self-righteousness; in the name of mission, superiority; in the name of identity, exclusiveness. Is it not possible to define oneself in the uniqueness of one’s faith tradition without presuming to have God on one’s side; to be better, over and against others? Whatever happened to humility as a religious virtue; to civility and social grace?
Some pulpits on the religious right (whether Christian, Muslim or Jewish) thunder with homophobia, sexism and xenophobia in the name of God. Fundamentalists divide people into sinners and saints, the saved and the damned, and pretend to know the will of God.
Last week I asked a Christian friend, “What did your pastor preach on Easter?” Perhaps with some hesitation, but truthfully, she responded: “He spoke about how Christianity is the only true faith and others are not.” “Ironic,” I responded. “I preached about how all faith traditions can be paths to godliness.” In doing so, I quoted the prophet Jeremiah:
“Let not the wise glory in their wisdom;
Let not the strong glory in their strength;
Let not the rich glory in their riches;
But let those that glory, glory in this-
that they understand and know that I the Lord
act with loving-kindness, justice, and equity in all the world;
for in these things I delight”
Loving-kindness, justice, equity – some good religious concepts. Pretty good guidelines for preachers and politicians as well.
My Response:
My first girl friend was Eileen Getzig. I don’t quite remember how old I was, somewhere between four and six, but it was the mid 50s and kids could go out and play around their neighborhoods – even in the city – without fear. Eileen had straight red hair, blue eyes and a dusting of freckles. She had straight bangs and her hair framed her face to just about her jaw line. I remember her father wore a uniform that now makes me think of the uniforms that mechanics or maintenance men wear. Eileen had an older sister, Francine, who had brown hair, brown eyes and freckles but she wasn’t as pretty as Eileen and she always seemed to have a cold. I remember that Eileen’s mother favored simple house-dresses and always wore penny-loafers with white anklets. Eileen and I were constantly together. I can remember sitting at the kitchen table with her, eating (drinking) tomato soup. She had a lisp but it didn’t bother me as much as my sister’s lisp did later on. Somewhere along the line, though it mattered not at all, Eileen and I got to know that, apart from the obvious difference between boys and girls, we identified ourselves, respectively, as Jewish and Catholic.
I also remember another friend from the neighborhood, Conchetta. I remember her as a pretty, slim girl with brown eyes and olive skin who wore plaid dresses. She wore her hair in two long braids.
My other friends were a brother and sister, Ken and Karen. Karen was older than Ken. They always seemed to be barefoot, which I thought rather unusual. Karen and her mother also wore strange-looking, small, white net bonnets. Ken and I used to play with a favorite toy of his, a complex structure in which marbles rolled from level to level, via small holes and tunnels.
In fairness, I should mention another boy in the neighborhood I used to play with, though we were never best friends. His name was Larry and I remember his ears stuck out. That didn’t bother me, but his favorite pastime was to play with plugs and sockets. That didn’t interest me much.
Apart from Larry, none of my neighborhood friends conformed to homogenized, “white-bread,” run-of-the-mill people. In fact, the other neighborhood kids really didn’t want to have much to do with me. I remember them shunning me and calling me a “bad spirit.” What might surprise you is that they didn’t call me that because I was friends with a Jewish girl, but because I was friends with Mennonites. But, anyway, I was happy and if I had the chance, I’d travel through time right now and go back to that care-free, innocent time in far northeast Philadelphia.
Why do I wax poetic about my childhood? I’ll explain more fully later, but the same reason also makes me think back to my early years as a professional singer. My fledgling career threw me into the company of many diverse people of all ages, races, religious (or non-religious) persuasions and other qualifiers not necessary to mention here. I never thought it odd that Jews and Gentiles competed for the chance to sing as soloists in performances of the St. John and St. Matthew Passions or Messiah. Despite the obvious thematic material, my Jewish colleagues never seemed to be bothered either, thank God. A good friend of mine who is now an ordained Cantor in a leading, mid-west metropolitan Reformed Synagogue and I used to reminisce about our salad days in the musical trenches. For years, she used to sing in a Catholic church. For years I used to sing in Synagogues and Protestant churches. I remember I had a Friday night job in one Synagogue and a Saturday morning job in another. I sang in a third for the High Holy Days. Yes, I enjoyed it and yes I was good. When I sang Kol Nidre, there was not a dry eye in the house.
You may ask why I wandered through childhood memories a while ago. They were musings, the result of a reaction I had many hours before when I read yet another literary “gem” reflecting the “politically correct” rigging of our unhappy and stifled world. Once again, we have to surrender ourselves to the lash of public opinion for that big, bad thing known as “interfaith insensitivity.” Once again, the Catholic Church gets it for that hurtful Good Friday prayer “For the Conversion of the Jews.”
If newspapers were a bit more diligent in terms of fact checking, there would probably be less need for responses to the drivel that appears in their pages from time to time. If Rabbi Sasso’s article had been diligently checked prior to publication, he would not – as he surely will be by others as well as by me – be so sorely taken to task. However, could it be the agenda of the Indianapolis Star to foment such discord, or is it the agenda of the journal to subtly promote anti-Catholicism, hoping at the same time that no one will notice? Well, if so, this time it didn’t work.
I will try to resist indulging myself in ancillary commentary as I take apart Rabbi Sasso’s opinion piece in the “Conversations” section of Tuesday’s Indianapolis Star. In all honesty, I will probably fail in that attempt. In this entire effort, the words of my mother ring constantly in my ears: “If you don’t know what you’re talking about, have the sense to keep your mouth shut.”
The inaccuracy begins in the headline: “Watching your pulpit manners.” What bothers the Rabbi does not take place in the pulpit at all, but rather at the altar. Going on, first of all, Rabbi Sasso tells us that the Holy Father “reauthorized the use of an old prayer in the Good Friday Mass that dated back to the 16th century (Council of Trent).” In toto, not so. Where to start? Well, it must be said that Good Friday is the only day in the Liturgical Year when Mass is NOT celebrated. To be sure, prior to the liturgical changes enacted by Pope Pius XII of blessed memory, the Good Friday Liturgy had the name, “Mass of the Presanctified.” However, technically, Mass was not celebrated. There was a ceremony at the altar in which the Sacred Host was elevated as It is during the Mass, but that Host was retrieved from the Repository, having been consecrated the night before, Holy Thursday, at the Vigil Mass of the Lord’s Supper, hence the term ‘Presanctified.’ To this day, Mass in any Form of the Roman Rite, is not celebrated on Good Friday. Second, the Good Friday Liturgy is NOT something that is “dated back to the 16th century (Council of Trent).” The Council of Trent, indeed, did many, many things. However, what it definitively did NOT do is create any liturgical entities. Those entities, among them the Good Friday Liturgy, like the Mass Itself, had already existed for quite some time. The Council standardized and consolidated (and also purged and pruned) already existing liturgical rites, allowing for the continuation of those rites, provided they were at least 200 years old. Hence, the Council of Trent did not create the Good Friday Liturgy. But, yes, the Council of Trent did take place in the 16th century.
The present Holy Father did, in no way, authorize the use of an old prayer. The prayer is an element of a distinct Liturgical entity. As is the entity, so is the prayer. The Rabbi’s implication is that the prayer, at some unspecified time, was dropped from the Good Friday Liturgy and then reintroduced. Not so. The prayer has existed as long as the Liturgy itself did, i.e., as the Liturgy was crystallized in its final form. Removing or dropping an element from a crystallized Liturgical entity would compromise said entity. What the Holy Father did was to make changes in the existing prayer. Below is the conversion prayer: as it appeared in the liturgy prior to the reform of Pope John XXIII in 1962, in the reform of 1962 with the “offending” words in parentheses, in the present day Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, i.e., the change of Pope Benedict XVI and, finally, in the present day Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite (the reformed liturgy following the Second Vatican Council).
For the Conversion of the Jews (The Restored Order of Holy Week, 1956), 1962
Let us also pray for the (faithless) Jews: that Our Lord and God might remove the veil from their hearts; so that they might recognize Jesus Christ, Our Lord.
Let us pray. Let us kneel. Arise.
Almighty and Eternal God, Who do not, even now, drive away the Jewish people (Jewish faithlessness) from Your Mercy; hear our prayers which we offer for the blindness of that people; so that, the light of Your Truth, which is Christ, having been recognized, they may be torn away from their darkness. Through the same Jesus Christ, Our Lord, who lives and reigns with You in the Unity of the Holy Spirit, world without end. Amen.
For the Conversion of the Jews (The recent version of Pope Benedict XVI), 2008
Let us also pray for the Jews: that Our Lord and God might illumine their hearts; so that they might recognize Jesus Christ, the Savior of all men.
Let us pray. Let us kneel. Arise.
Almighty and Eternal God, Who will that all men might be saved and come to the recognition of the Truth: Graciously grant that, in the fullness of peoples entering into Your Church, all Israel may be saved. Through Jesus Christ, Our Lord, who lives and reigns with You in the Unity of the Holy Spirit, world without end. Amen.
For the Jewish People (Current Sacramentary, Ordinary Form)
Let us pray for the Jewish people, the first to hear the word of God, that they may continue to grow in the love of His Name and in faithfulness to His Covenant.
Let us kneel. Let us stand.
Almighty and Eternal God, long ago You gave Your Promise to Abraham and his posterity. Listen to Your Church as we pray that the people You first made Your own may arrive at the fullness of redemption. We ask this through Christ Our Lord. Amen.
Unfortunately, here is where I must digress and insert a bit of commentary. It has to do with words and their meanings. I refer to that simple word which, for years, tied knots in underwear all over the world. The word is “perfidious.”
What does this word mean? Is its usage apt, i.e., does it describe or represent a truth? Let us first examine the word. The word ‘perfidy,’ the noun, is a combination of two Latin elements, the prefix per and the fifth declension, feminine gender noun, fides. Per can mean ‘through’ but can also mean ‘thoroughly.’ Fides means faith. Per fidem, therefore, means through faith. So far, this not only doesn’t sound negative, but rather, it sounds quite good. It is what does NOT appear that brings the understanding we have today of the term ‘perfidy’ and ‘perfidious,’ faithlessness and faithless, respectively.
The term had its origin in a play by the Roman playwright, Plautus, known for his comedies, who lived from 254 to 184 B.C. Sorry, I don’t do BCE. The play is Mostellaria, The Haunted House and the term is uttered in verse 500 by Philolaches: “Per fidem deceptus sum,” which means ‘I have been deceived through (on account of, because of) faith (trust).’ The character has been deceived by one who has broken trust, by someone who has broken a covenant.
Apart from the literal meaning, words often elicit emotional responses. Personally, when I hear the word ‘perfidy’ or ‘perfidious,’ my imagination conjures up gray-haired matrons, wearing whale-bone corsets under their dowdy dresses, sporting pince-nez spectacles; or a Simon-Legree-like character gleefully rubbing his hands in the grainy frames of a silent film. Most people, i.e., those who might not know the meaning, would probably say it sounds like “something evil.”
So, one who deceives through faith is a covenant breaker. Let’s consider covenants for a moment. God made several covenants with man in Sacred Scripture. One thing we must know about covenants is that one covenant is not broken by the appearance of another. Covenants are sequential and perfecting, i.e., completing. The covenant God made with Noah was not abrogated by the covenant He made with Abraham. The covenant God made with Abraham was not abrogated by the covenant He made with Moses. It also goes without saying that, if a covenant is broken, it is NOT God Who broke it! Each covenant, therefore, that God made with man – all unilateral, by the way (God promises or does something; all we have to do is accept) – perfects the covenant that preceded it. Thus, the perfection of all covenants was the Covenant of Christ, the Redemption of man through the Paschal Mystery, Christ’s Passion and Death; His Resurrection; His Ascension. The one who breaks or rejects or refuses to enter into this covenant is the one who is faithless.
Ah, but is this the only instance in which faithlessness on the part of some can be demonstrated or measured? No. In its entirety, Sacred Scripture is considered the “Love Story” that God writes to man. But the bulk of Sacred Scripture, the Old Testament, is replete with accounts of faithlessness. For example, after miracle upon salvific miracle, at the very moment God establishes His Covenant with Moses, the Chosen People cavort and worship the Golden Calf at the foot of Mt. Sinai. Instead of learning a lesson from the subsequent, violent devastation immediately meted out to them as a result of their treachery, Abraham’s Children persist in breaking God’s Covenants with them, resulting, over centuries, in their subsequent (albeit partial) annihilation, dispersion, exile and enslavement. Are they then faithless? It seems so. Is this term, then, derogatory? How? Intolerant? No. Painful? Actually, I hope so. Pain is the symptom of trouble, an imbalance, a sickness – something to be remedied. But, all of the aforementioned cataclysmic events, in all their horror, yet in the context of Eternal Providence, do, in fact, set the stage for the Greatest Covenant of all, the Covenant of Christ.
I now continue, addressing Rabbi Sasso’s declaration that “After Vatican II, the church had virtually outlawed this prayer as contrary to the teachings and spirit of a new relationship with the Jewish people and faith.” What I find absolutely amazing is that, somehow, this ubiquitous “Spirit of Vatican II” has infused countless people, believers and non-believers, Catholics and non-Catholics with the uncanny ability to make definitive, authoritative statements on The Second Vatican Council. These people pontificate on what the council was and what it did. One wonders how many of those divinely favored folks have actually read all or any of the council documents. I am a “cradle” Catholic. I am also a priest. I have read every document from the Second Vatican Council and I would never dare, I would never presume, to speak with any definitive authority on what the council did or said. Many philosophers and theologians over the centuries – St. Thomas Aquinas, for example – have employed what is known as the “via negativa,” saying what someone or something is not. The way we think about God exemplifies this. God is “infinite” (not finite), “incorporeal” (is not a body). It would be far less dangerous to opine about what the council was not or did not do.
Rabbi Sasso makes much about how “all faith traditions can be paths to godliness.” One could attempt to reconcile the Rabbi’s attitude with the teachings of St. Thomas who revered Aristotle, whom he named “The Philosopher”, Averroes, whom he called “The Commentator” (on Aristotle) and Moses Maimonides, affectionately referring to him as “Rabbi Moses.” To the extent that their teachings served Christ, the Church and the Catholic Faith, Aquinas put stock in them. However, Aquinas NEVER stated that he, himself, or anyone else, should espouse something contrary to Catholic Church, i.e., that made one a Pagan, a Moslem or a Jew. Likewise, despite what Rabbi Sasso insists are the thoughts or teachings of the late Holy Father, John Paul II of revered memory (and the document Dominus Jesus), neither Vatican II nor the late Pope taught or promoted what the Rabbi proposes as the remedy for the world’s problems, namely, religious syncretism.
A few months ago friends of mine sent email messages directing my attention to things written by famous people or directing me to tune in to some things on “You Tube” which have dealt with, for example, the ridiculous and imagined conflict between “holidays” and “Holy Days.” Instead of “Merry Christmas,” one should say “Happy Holidays.” A surprising number of these commentaries have been given by famous actors and comedians, one a prominent Jewish comic. This gentleman was particularly scathing in his contempt for the current, politically correct idea of debunking Christmas. He took it as a mark of charity and human kindness to be wished a “Merry Christmas.” He was not offended. Why should anyone be? If Jews wore signs saying “I am Jewish,” we poor, ignorant Christians would probably wish them “Happy Hanukkah.” Would that improve things? Probably not. Why? Because no matter what the effort, some folks will never be satisfied, never be appeased.
Many people, particularly we who are presently being attacked because of a prayer, might not know that those who attack us have their own “hate prayer” in place. The feminists know, of course, because the prayer that they cringe at (the Aleynu, recited thrice daily) is the same Jewish prayer that includes the text thanking God that He did not make the suppliant a Gentile. The Passover Hagaddah is another “hate prayer” which asks God to “Pour out Your anger toward the Gentiles who do no know You” and “chase them with rage and destroy them.” Whew! This Catholic Gentile is glad he worships the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
What will eventually be discovered is that it is those who are unshakeable and firmly committed to their faith – be they Catholic, Protestant, Jew or whatever – are never going to be the ones who complain about a prayer. Those who attend Synagogue weekly or daily will never be disturbed. Certainly not all, but primarily, it is those who have no faith, who have a tepid faith or who are secularized who feel that somehow, by complaining at some imagined offense, they are striking a blow either for God or for their Religion. The question is, will striking such a blow spur them on to a religious fervor? Will they be more than High Holy Day Jews, or will they, in the aftermath, continue in their religious complacency or apathy? By the way, yes, Catholics have the same kind of people in their churches too. They’re called C and E (Christmas and Easter) Catholics.
When I was a deacon, my friend the cantor, whom I mentioned previously, asked me and a few other friends to put on a concert in her Synagogue. I happily agreed. My attire for the concert was my normal, daily attire, the cassock, collar and cincture. Out of respect for the Synagogue, I also wore a black zucchetto. It is a skullcap and looks just like a yarmulke. In our respective program biographies, we performers briefly mentioned our musical experiences. Of course, I mentioned my past Synagogue experience. After the concert, during the reception, many people thanked and complimented us on our performance. Two older, very pleasant and attractive ladies approached me, again with thanks and compliments. But then they continued and began talking about their faith and their beloved Synagogue. They ended by asking me if I would consider converting to Judaism and becoming a member of the Synagogue. This is the absolute truth and, mind you, I’m dressed in my cassock, collar and cincture. Now, if the shoe were on the other foot, I wonder what the reaction of those two ladies might have been. I wonder how Rabbi Sasso would react if one day he visited Holy Rosary and I asked him if he were interested in converting to Catholicism. I, for one, was not only not offended, but flattered. It was flattering to think that these ladies thought enough of me to consider asking me to share their faith and Temple.
What am I getting at here? Love. All of Rabbi Sasso’s concerns about humility, interfaith relations, social harmony, etc., can be taken care of with love. However, love is not something that can merely be equated with “nice.” Nice means: do what you want; gay is fine; it’s OK for women to reject their femininity; it’s great to refuse to learn the language of the country in which you live. Love and its true freedom give one the means to do what is right, even if the right thing is not easy or pleasant. Love is what the rational human person, is bound to give to his neighbor, both friend and enemy. I do not regard Rabbi Sasso as my enemy – unless he wishes to be. But even if he were, my Christianity, my Catholicism and my rational soul require me to love him, even if he wishes to reject that love. Perhaps he would appreciate my loving him less. Well, I can do that, if he insists. But I still insist on loving him one day per year, Good Friday, the day I pray for him, wanting and praying for his good.
I now speak to you directly, Rabbi Sasso: Just what are you so afraid of? Why do you in newspapers denigrate our prayer for you, imploring God for your salvation? We don’t take you to task in newspapers for your prayer begging God for our destruction. You talk about intolerance? Please!
It’s always possible to find something in scripture to reinforce an agenda or chosen premise. The Book of Jeremias is rich, indeed. You chose to quote from him. Please permit me to quote him too, in the Douay Rheims version: “As the thief is confounded when he is taken, so is the house of Israel confounded, they and their kings, their princes, and their priests and their prophets. Saying to a stock: Thou art my father. And to a stone: Thou hast begotten me. They have turned their back to Me, and not their face: and in the time of their affliction they will say: Arise and deliver us.”
I have taken up the challenge you publicly made last week. Many in the Catholic Community have requested some response to your article. I have done my best. Can you and I now, at least, have done with this issue? I hope so. However, I fear that this unfortunate issue will never disappear. It will rear its ugly head again, time after time. Just as both Passover and Easter will be celebrated again next year, so too will this lamentable thing appear again. I hope it doesn’t reappear in Indianapolis. But, just in case it does, I’ll keep a copy of this, so I won’t have to go to the trouble of writing it again.
Will I be vilified and considered anti-Semitic because of what I have written? Possibly. But not by those who are knowledgeable about words and their meanings. Peace, Rabbi.
Rev. Michael W. Magiera, FSSP
Associate Pastor, Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary R.C. Church
Indianapolis, Indiana
My Indianapolis Star Opinion Piece:
One of the first things a new Pope does, usually at the beginning of his new pontificate, is to write an encyclical. Though it certainly is not meant “to define” a Pope or papacy, it usually gives the world a good idea as to where a new Pope stands in relation to The Church and the world. Pope Benedict XVI was known for his quietly personable, yet “no-nonsense” manner and attitudes prior to his ascension to the throne of Peter. After accepting the burden of the papacy, he has continuously shown that he takes his role as Spiritual Father very seriously. And that is a very good thing, as his first encyclical, Deus Caritas Est (God is Charity (Love)) has shown.
The Holy Father does not subscribe to the contemporary and politically correct mindset of “feel good” syncretism. No false ecumenism for him. For the Pope, it is not “one church is as good as another” or “it doesn’t matter because we all pray to the same God.” This would be the equivalent of a father allowing his children a steady diet of junk food because nutrition is “in there somewhere,” or allowing his children to stay up till the wee hours because they’ll get to sleep “eventually.” No loving father would treat his children so unjustly.
A good father who truly loves his children wants their good. It is only in the good that true and lasting happiness can be found. Good is not the same thing as ‘nice.’ Nice comes from the Latin ‘nescire’ which means to ‘not know.’ Nice means to be permissive, lax, with the ulterior motive being to gain human respect. This is not love. Love means providing children with what they need, not necessarily with what they want. Pope Benedict XVI, following in the steps of his predecessors, is a loving father who regards all in the world as his children. He is also a very wise father as well as a loving father.
How so? In giving his children what they need, he makes every effort to bring his children to the realization that what they need is really what they want. Everyone wants the good, but a perceived good is not necessarily a true good. A father can be a good disciplinarian and yet be supremely kind. His wisdom prompts him to teach kindly, patiently and lovingly. Though the world refused to understand him, this is exactly what the Pope did in Turkey. This is what he will do now in the USA.
It is also what he did when he reformed the much-maligned Good Friday prayer ‘For the Conversion of the Jews.’ Gone is the negative character and iodine burn of the older prayer. The Holy Father applies a positive remedy in a soothing balm. The prayer deemphasizes the unpleasant purging of the evil and, instead, begs for a comforting infusion of the good. Can such a thing, as has recently been claimed, be derogatory and intolerant? Can the reasonable teaching of this wonderful prayer be, as it has recently been called, denigrating, vitriolic, toxic and insensitive? Can it possibly be regarded as dangerous? Unlike some (non-Catholic) prayers which goad God to anger and rage and beg Him for the destruction of whole peoples, this prayer reaches out in love and healing. To be sure, the prayer is for the Jews, but by extension, this prayer, as an example of the constant teaching of the Holy Father, reaches out to all, in loving-kindness, as an invitation to the Good.
Pope Benedict, like two of his three predecessors, has crossed the Atlantic to knock at the door of the new world. Following a now long-standing tradition, the Pope constantly tries, at times fighting almost overwhelming resistance, to build bridges, to engage in true dialogue, to reach out and to invite. He does this in true love. This love might not always be nice or easy. Indeed, at times it might be difficult and downright nasty. But this love, this kindness, this teaching wants the true good for all.
- Fr. Michael W. Magiera, FSSP, is Associate Pastor at Holy Rosary Church in Indianapolis.