Feast of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein)

1891-1942
Gassed to death at Auschwitz

My beloved saint
for reasons that should be obvious,
for reasons that are not, and
for reasons still emerging.

For example, I think of Edith Stein whenever one of my sisters and brothers in Christ ask if I'm "still a Jew." And yes, I do indeed get asked this...a lot.

St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, pray for us that we might embrace everything we share as God's creation and reject everything that separates us from one another.

'Tis the Season to be Unconscious

Back in October, the American Family Association* starting polling members about Christmas blah blah. Would members be willing to boycotting at least one national retailer for failing to use the word "Christmas" in holiday advertising? Guess they were, because at the beginning of November the AFA called for a two-month boycott of Gap, Old Navy, and Banana Republic stores.

I believe in First Amendment rights, which I liberally interpret to include every American's right to sound/read unaware, insensitive, or downright stupid. Normally, I choose to ignore these kinds of campaigns. I'm having more difficulty doing so this year, probably because I'm more focused than usual on what passes (or doesn't) as interfaith dialogue.

Ever the glutton for aggravation, I've spent time trolling the blogosphere for posts and comments about the AFA campaign. First, the good news: a fair number of observers manage to zoom in on the offensiveness of turning an important Christian holy day into a celebration of retail transactions. I'm with them on that, but my non-rhinoplastied nose is still out of joint.

These commentaries still fail to zero in on what, as far as I am concerned, a more radical issue: not everyone in the world magically becomes Christian during December. Assuming that everyone does (or should) is beyond insensitive. It's insulting to Jews and Muslims.

Old habits of being die hard -- or not at all. I was baptized (as an adult) years ago, but having been raised Jewish, I nevertheless derive some seasonal cheer from knowing Christianity didn't even exist when Jesus was born. Heck, December 24th didn't even exist.

I confess: pondering this generates the same frisson of glee I feel whenever I have an opportunity to explain that Jesus wasn't Catholic and Christ was not his last name.


*The AFA "represents and stands for traditional family values and exists to motivate and equip citizens to reform our culture to reflect Biblical truth on which it was founded."

My High School Reunion: Identity and Faith on Saturday

By Saturday morning of my high school reunion, I was pretty darn full of...myself. The previous evening I'd heard, "you look exactly like you did in high school" a zillion times. (Really? Gray roots were showing back then?)

I was also feeling rather perky thanks to a powerful combination of achieving Internet connectivity and getting a good night's sleep. Thus fortified, I drove to the high school for nearly six hours of schmoozing. Identity and faith continued to be a central topic but not because I was so darn busy fulfilling Matthew 28:18-20. I had other stuff to do.

This other stuff included but was not limited to paying off a bet I'd made with one of the reunion organizers. (He won a jar of macadamia nuts.) I also wanted to find out for myself if a former football player who scared the snot out of me really does now study with a guru for months at a time in India. (He does.) And, I wanted some quality time with Peter Balakian.

I've always felt a special affection for and affinity with Peter. This, I believe, is because my mother made sure two things happened by the time I entered fifth grade. First, I was taught how to play the string bass. Second, I was shown documentary footage of Nazi death camps being liberated by Allied forces. As a result, I spent several formative years standing behind Peter while he played cello in the elementary school orchestra and to this day I consider genocide a clear and present danger. By genocide, I'm thinking Rwanda and Darfur, not...oh never mind.

Don't know if he still plays cello, but Peter has become a poet known for his prize-winning memoir, Black Dog of Fate and work about the Armenian genocide.

In Black Dog of Fate, Peter captures perfectly what it was like to grow up where we did and at a time when no one thought twice about making comments like, "You're eating like a starving Armenian" and "Don't try to Jew down the price." Peter's memoir revealed how I wasn't the only one whose childhood was shaped by a collective unconscious memory of diaspora.

While tucking into lunch, I learned that Peter is currently teaching a course in "Genocide" at Colgate University. ("Mom! Dad! I got an A in genocide!!") We chatted about antisemitism; the first century and Constantine. This proved to be perfect prelude to conversations throughout the day during which I was asked, "Why Catholic?" in the most thoughtful and thought-provoking ways.

Exactly the question I've been pondering lately, but one I put on hold to enter the embrace of Vigil Mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel that evening before reconvening for the gala dinner.

My High School Reunion: Faith and Identity on Friday

So, I didn't attend Temple Sinai on the Friday night of my high school reunion weekend. I did not come to this sanity-affirming decision all by myself. A dear friend reminded me what happened during an impromptu visit years earlier.

Silly me, I'd stopped by the synagogue office to ask for permission to tour the sanctuary and was treated to an inquisition. Because visiting from out-of-town wasn't a good enough reason, I got huffy in return, "My grandfather of blessed memory designed and built the bimah. My family donated most of the landscaping." (Because reforesting Israel wasn't enough.)

"Well, we don't want people wandering around," snarled the synagogue secretary. I muttered dayenu and promptly decided to expand my tour to the kitchen where I once scrounged around for B'nai B'rith breakfast leftovers. (One Youth Group activity I remember.) Take a WAG, did I open the refrigerators?

With that memory reignited, I decided to ditch services and join the cloud of witnesses gathering at a local restaurant. Thanks to the humorous grace of God, the first clutch of classmates happened to be those who'd attended Our Lady of Mt. Carmel (Roman Catholic) parochial school before transferring to public high school. Bemused curiosity all around about what the h-e-double hockey sticks had happened to me.

Not for the last time during the weekend did I trot out my "Jewish in identity, Christian in faith and Catholic by religious practice" trope.

As it turned out, I really didn't have to brace myself. The big negative reaction never came, not from them nor from classmates with whom I'd once raided the refrigerators at Temple Sinai. Instead, on Shabbat I was treated to a delightful riff about what the nuns would have done with me had I attended OLMC. Think: The Trouble with Angels meets Doubt and The Sound of Music.

Thus began a weekend tuned to the Self-Discovery Channel. Saturday would be even more illuminating in the domain of faith and identity, although I do plead guilty to indulging in unrepentant schadenfreude at times.

Rescuing the Catholic-Jewish Dialogue...from (some) Catholics

So glad I waited a month before following up my Recognito post. That post was about how in June, the U.S. Catholic Bishops (USCCB) managed to set Catholic-Jewish relations back a few years/decades/centuries.

First, they messed around with the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults. Then, after being busted for insensitivity, the putzim issued a clarification.

How does issuing a Statement of Principles for Catholic-Jewish Dialogue (October 2, 2009) make it all better? It doesn't. . . not even with this reassurance:

"Jewish-Catholic dialogue, one of the blessed fruits of the Second Vatican Council, has never been and will never be used by the Catholic Church as a means of proselytism -- nor is it intended as a disguised invitation to baptism."

Can the USCCB possibly be more out of touch with what's going on within certain (growing) sectors of the U.S. Catholic population?

Before convicting me for being too tough on the Roman Catholic Church, please compare and contrast this piece posted on Spero News (dateline: October 6) with this one on the Catholic News Agency website (dateline: October 8).

If deep text analysis is your thing, notice how each Catholic news service organizes information, uses quotes from the Statement, and provides links to resources. If that's too darn exegetical for you, then take a deep breath and scroll down to comments posted on the CNA site. Here are a few excerpts:

"Frankly, I'm getting tired of Jewish people telling the Catholic Church what it can pray, believe, and teach."

"Incidents like this always leave me wondering whether Christian-Jewish dialogue is even worth the effort. It gives the impression, in fact, that what passes for dialogue is really just a Jewish monologue with a Christian audience."

"More Apostasy, cowardice,and caving in to the Jews from the USCCB. The Old covenant is dead!!! Our Lord is the fulfilment [sic] of the old covenant."

Despite artfully worded proclamations, anti-Judaism (i.e., hatred of the Jewish religion) and anti-Semitism (i.e., hatred of Jews as an ethnic group) are alive and sick. At least one disturbingly hefty segment of the Catholic population is clue-free about the debt of gratitude all Christians owe to Judaism and the Jewish people.

I suppose I should, in some bizarre way, be grateful for validating proof of persistent ignorance about Jews and Judaism. Instead, I'm mostly annoyed and discouraged by bungled communications from those entrusted with church leadership.

If the USCCB can't adhere to the standard set forth in Matthew 7:12 when they attempt to clarify Catholic-Jewish dialogue, they should at least consider adopting this one from the Hippocratic Corpus: "First, do no harm."

Note: You can find links to all USCCB documents about Jewish relations at the USCCB website. Find copies of declarations and proclamations from the Vatican, as well as ones from the Episcopal and Lutheran churches in my new book, Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar?

Recognitio this: CCC 121

So much was going on for me this summer, that I just wasn't in the mood to deal with any United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) or Vatican-generated chazzarai about Catholic-Jewish relations.

More specifically, I'd just calmed down about the SSPX situation when the USCCB issued its June statement, "A Note on Ambiguities Contained in Reflections on Covenant and Mission." I read and printed out a few news reports, then set them aside. Didn't read the original document. Shame on "Jewish in identity, Christian in faith, and Catholic in religious practice" me for not paying attention.

Even more shame on me for only glancing at news reports about the U.S. Catholic Bishops voting to ask the Vatican "to approve a small change" in the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults. The small change? Striking this sentence: "Thus the covenant that God made with the Jewish people through Moses remains eternally valid for them." (p. 131).

What they kept in is a pile o' words that includes a quote from Paul's letter to the church in Rome (Romans 9:4-5). Read that scripture snippet in context and you'll find yet another great example of, revealed especially in his use of pronouns, Paul's own identity-faith issues. Have I mentioned lately that I'm glad it's no longer the Year of St. Paul?

And of course every other commentator jumped all over this story. I let it slide when it was reported first on August 12 and two weeks later when the USCCB received Vatican Recognitio for this change. So what finally prompted me to yank my head out of the sand?

I dunno. Maybe it's because I'd just finished explaining -- to a Catholic who had to look up the word -- that supercessionism is, at long last, considered a disreputable theological stance. (Making a comeback?) Or, maybe it's because I read Rocco Palmo recent post about the Vatican announcing that its teachings about the Jewish people are "not negotiable." (Oh really?)

More likely it's because all this interfaith dishabille seems especially distressing as Rosh Hashonah approaches. I really do prefer the new year include stuff worth celebrating. In the domain of Catholic-Jewish relations, this is hardly the case. I'm counting it all oy.

Lent at the Western Wall

At some point during the next 12 hours, I'll hunker down to prepare a prayer for transport to Jerusalem where it'll get tucked into the Western Wall next week.

Yes, I believe God will have already received my prayer before its physical arrival, but I like this tradition. Plus, it should come as no surprise that I think Catholic-Jewish relations could use some divine intervention these days. Petitioning God during Lent at the remains of the Second Temple makes cosmic sense to me.

So as not to suck up too much space, I'm planning to use a teeny slip of paper, although I really shouldn't worry about generating sacred litter. To make room for more prayers, notes are cleared out before Passover and Rosh Hashonah, and then buried on the Mount of Olives.

This practice of tucking notes into the Wall began during the 18th century which, considering the scope of Jewish history, makes it a relatively recent custom. Even more recent is the option of sending a prayer to Jerusalem via email, where it will be written out and then placed in the Wall for you. Kidding you, I am not.

This service is offered by Aish HaTorah (free and donations welcomed), Virtual Jerusalem (free), and the enterprising folks at Writing to God, who have recently marked their service fee down to $7.97 from $12.97 ("It's easy, It's fast, It's simple.")

I'm sure you can find other options on the Internet. In any case, I invite you to join me in praying for reconciliation among all God's people -- this year in Jerusalem.

Holy Toast?

Just so happens I was writing about the Jewish roots of Eucharist when Marion called to say, "I have a little something for you, okay if I stop by?"

I didn't see the "little something" at first. I was too busy oohing and aahing over the gorgeous loaf of challah she'd tucked into a lovely gift bag. But prompted to look again, I found it -- my very own Holy Toast Visionary Bread Stamper.

We adjourned to my kitchen and followed these easy directions: "Press the stamper into any ordinary slice of bread, toast it, and behold a miracle!"

Behold a miracle? How about this shocker:

Mary didn't appear on the slice of toasted challah, not even after we buttered her up. Nor did she appear on the slice of Jewish rye we used for our next attempt at holy toast.

"I don't suppose you keep white bread in the house," Marion said.

I felt torn between making the Sign of the Cross and muttering Kine-ahora while replying, "Absolutely not!"

Cardinal Egan on SSPX...Tweaked

Had I been asked to review Cardinal Egan’s statement on SSPX, I would've suggested he seize the opportunity to express a bit of teshuva (repentance) and perhaps some gratitude. I would've also suggested a couple of line breaks to enhance readability to make it seem less perfunctory.

Here’s what went out:

As Archbishop of New York, I add my voice to that of the Holy See and the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops in rejecting Williamson’s words as hurtful, baseless, and outrageous. It is my prayer that all of our Jewish brothers and sisters understand that we in the Catholic community here in New York hold them in the highest esteem, and look forward to continuing to cooperate with them in countless good works for our community and our nation.

The first sentence is okay. Here’s how I would’ve tweaked the rest:

It is my humble prayer that all our Jewish brothers and sisters understand that we in the Catholic community here in New York deeply regret the persistence of anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism in our Church.

We ask the Jewish community’s forgiveness for the ways that we, as Catholic Christians, have failed to honor, respect, and express gratitude for all the gifts we have received from the Jewish people throughout history. We need to become more mindful of our Jewish roots.

We stand in solidarity with you against those who minimize or ignore the persecution you have suffered through our thoughts and words; in what we have done and what we have failed to do.

SSPX Drek

I haven't put up any blog posts about my reactions to the current Vatican-generated mess relative to Catholic-Jewish relations.

For one thing, I'm barely managing my grief and fear-based nausea. For another, my favorite bloggers are writing what I'd write if I managed to manage my grief and fear-based nausea.

What could I possibly add to what they've written about the pernicious persistence of anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism? Perhaps this:

I can't imagine the SSPX drek comes as any surprise to Jews who tend to view Anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism as church "business as usual." I wonder whether people in Christian-Jewish dialogue realize this mind-and-heart set prevails among Jews -- even for this convert, called to love Christ and serve the church.




Image: Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane by El Greco, c. 1590

A rabbi, a priest, and a minister...

I broke my fast from religious news yesterday. Thanks to God's infinite grace and good humor the top commentary on David Gibson's blog was titled, "What is the point of interfaith dialogue?" John L. Allen titled his column, "Interreligious dialogue impossible, pope says, but intercultural dialogue good."

Being me, I immediately envisioned the Vatican's repeal of the Nostra aetate document. Turns out B16 is trying to make a point about shifting the focus of interfaith dialogue from apologetics to practical matters of mutual concern -- like world peace.

I'm thinking we should switch to interfaith stand-up.

More specifically, I'm suggesting that religious leaders sponsor open mike nights at local comedy clubs. Just a guess, but I think interfaith dialogue would go a lot better if our conversations started with this venerable invocation: "a rabbi, a priest, and a minister were in a row boat..."

Amen?

Feast of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein)

1891-1942
Gassed to death at Auschwitz

My beloved saint
for reasons that should be obvious,
for reasons that are not, and
for reasons yet to emerge.

About that yoga center...

A couple of years ago, someone wrote to Marcellino D'Ambrosio at The Crossroads Initiative to question the wisdom of featuring The Catholic Home on his ministry's website. This person had discovered my marketing communications work for Kripalu yoga center -- toward the end of the 20th century. This person, who apparently had never read anything by Anthony de Mello, S.J., was very concerned. Thus ensued a terrific exchange between me and the ever gracious, sensible, and smart Dr. D'Ambrosio. Note: He still stocks my book.

I have more to say about my yoga years, specifically this: ghee whiz, cut me a break. Anyone who knows anything about contemporary Judaism knows that for American Jews born between 1948 and 1953, futzing around with Hinduism would be as central to our spiritual formation as having a bar/bat mitzvah. Plenty of them would end up picking oranges on an Israeli kibbutz and making a pilgrimage to India. Not me! I would end up peeling carrots in Massachusetts.

As a matter of demographic fact, the proportion of Jews either visiting or in residence at Kripalu far exceeded the proportion of Jews in the general population. And feature this factoid: much of the pranayama, hatha yoga, chanting, meditation, puja, and fire ceremonies took place before a towering mosaic of St. Ignatius Loyola in the main chapel. During an earlier incarnation, the building had been a Jesuit novitiate. No regrets about this pit stop on my spiritual journey. I loved my time in and around that yoga community (née ashram), later depicted in all its delightful weirdness by Stephen Cope.

Shortly after 10 continuous hours of chanting our guru mantra, I switched to the Holy Name, but not because breathing in "Jesus" and breathing out "Christ" got me through 108 mala beads any faster than om namo bhagavate vasudevaya. Jesus Christ was making a whole lot more sense than the guru we ended up firing. Yes, we fired our guru. I eventually ended up becoming Catholic.

By the way, the interest in Buddhism among Jews which ramped up during the 1990s is something I've never quite understood, even after reading Roger Kamenetz and then Sylvia Boorstein on the matter. Okay, so the fixation on suffering makes sense, but the food? Gag me.