Friday, August 28, 2020 Memorial of Saint Augustine, Bishop and Doctor of the Church
Tough love in the Christian life
Santa Monica and St. Augustine are two beautiful sun-kissed American cities named hundreds of years ago by Catholic missionaries. In 1769, Franciscan Juan Crespi named Santa Monica when he saw two springs that reminded him of the tears springing from Saint Monica’s eyes as she prayed for her son Augustine’s “impiety.” Spanish conquistador Pedro Menendez de Aviles sighted land on August 28, 1565, feast day of San Agustin, and thus he named this first European settlement in the United States.
Always, Franciscans and Jesuits followed in the wake of the Spanish conquerors. Both groups brought European diseases, which quickly wiped out most of the welcoming native Americans. Presumably the Europeans mourned this mistake while they continued to share their story.
Christ sent me to preach the gospel so that the cross of Christ
Might not be emptied of its meaning.
Paul, humbled by his encounter with Jesus on the Road and his own illnesses and near blindness, and the persecutions and attempted assassinations in city after city along the way, learned in all these hard ways the difference between earthly “perishing” and heavenly salvation. Not obvious at first, then clear as crystal over time.
The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing
But to us who are being saved it is the power of God.
As Bishop of Hippo, by the end St. Augustine knelt beside his pallet and nightly soaked his pillow with tears of remorse and repentance, even though earlier he spent his time in what he called Christianae vitae otium, the leisure of Christian life. So often God turns the tables on us, moving us from simple pleasure into deep pain. This is tough love indeed.
Where is the wise one?
The world did not come to know God by wisdom.
Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom
But we proclaim Christ crucified.
I fought the law, and the law won. In my earthly prison cell, having surrendered “control” over my own life, recognizing my powerlessness, opening myself … I am visited by angels and released into what looks like foolishness. What will I do then? The first three of the Twelve Steps call out.
- I am powerless to manage my life.
- God is willing.
- I think I’ll let him.
And in surprised anguish, I discover that
The weakness of God is stronger than human strength.
At this point nothing in the world can harm me. I am defenseless in God’s arms, and stronger than strong. And all I know now is gratefulness.
Give thanks to the Lord
The earth is full of the goodness of the Lord
The Lord’s plan stands forever,
The design of his heart through all generations.
This gratefulness empowers my vigilance,
That I may have the strength to stand before the Son of Man.
The bridegroom is delayed, and some of us fall asleep.
Then at midnight we hear a cry, “Come! The bridegroom is here!”
I resist, but I must read this parable of Jesus with fear and trembling. I am not in charge of anything here. My role is to wait, to be still, and obey both the rules and the ruler.
Before I find this place of rest, I will probably fight the law. I know what’s good for me. But the law will win, and then in my initial trembling and fear of the punishments of the world, Jesus comes with his angels and releases me. My wisdom has come to naught, but my foolishness is not found wanting.
(1 Corinthians 1, Psalm 33, Luke 21, Matthew 25)
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