Thursday, December 13, 2007

Il Colosseo

I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. - Philippians 3:10-12

The Colosseum stands among Rome's most iconic images. On a short list of "things to see" in Rome, you'll find the Colosseum without a doubt. However, the question is often why people want to see the Colosseum. For some, it's a matter of historical wonder. For others, it's another great photo op. However, for many Christians who come to Rome on pilgrimage, the Colosseum represents the persecution of Christians off and on throughout the first centuries of the faith at the hands of the Roman empire.

It is indeed possible that Christians were killed at the Colosseum. Since it was built between 70 and 80 AD it would have been in high usage in the following centuries, during which there were periods of intense Christian persecution. Also, while the Colosseum did host such events as drama, gladiator shows, animal hunts (with real exotic animals), and even possibly mock naval battles, there were also executions. After all, over 50,000 people could attend events at the Colosseum, and they were often political in nature; it would be an excellent forum to remind people of the rule of the state.

However, to believe that the Colosseum was not only where all Roman Christians were martyred but used primarily for this purpose is inaccurate. In fact, the association with martyrdoms and the Colosseum can be traced only as far back as the 16th century; recovered lists of important pilgrimage sites in Rome before that bear no mention of the Colosseum. Furthermore, through even the Medieval Ages, the Colosseum found various uses as a market, stable, and fortress - hardly a carefully preserved holy site. Saint Ignatius of Antioch, a prominent bishop who was martyred during a period of persecution, is often believed to have been killed in the Colosseum; however, his well-documented imprisonment and death only states that he died in "the arena", of which there were many in Rome.

Nonetheless, the church considers the Colosseum an important religious place. Sure, it's always full of secular school groups and wide-eyed tourists, surrounded by a very impious hoard of trinket sellers and panini stands, and subject to a sizable entry fee. It's still the place that the Via Crucis centers on Good Friday services, and still has several crosses positioned both inside and out. Even with the secular historical dimensions, and even without its intense connections to the early Christian martyrs, it is an important place to consider.

I can look at the Colosseum and be amazed by 2,000 years of history staring back at me. The technology at the time used to create it, combined with the incredible manpower it required, astounds me. Even the mass of humanity gathered around the place makes me shake my head. However, when I think about it, I realize that even more incredible to me is the faith of a martyr. I would like to believe that if it was required of me, I would assert my faith to the point of death. But in the face of such imminent physical pain, I cannot honestly say. The memory of the martyrs challenges me and reminds me that I do not come to this faith alone - it is only by the grace of God.

God of mercy, we give thanks for the Spirit's constant work in us, building our faith through the grace selflessly given by your Son's death and resurrection. Forgive us, Lord, when we stumble in our faith and deny you in thought, word, and deed. Remind us of those who have praised your name even to their death; save us from such a trial, and give us courage should we face it anyway. In you we have strength. Amen.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

St. Clare of Assisi

For it is better to suffer for doing good, if suffering should be God's will, than to suffer for doing evil. For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water. And baptism, which this prefigured, now saves you - not as a removal of dirt from the body, but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ - 1 Peter 3:17-21

Ever since I first met her, I have been inspired by Clare. Not only was she a woman with great faith, but she had very sincere dedication to her neighbor, especially those most in need. She was intelligent and persistent in a time when women were rarely heard. Perhaps most amazing is her complete unfailing confidence in spite of all kinds of pain, as long as she knew she was living and serving in God's name.

Much of Clare's life is a shadow to Francis's, something even she allowed. She referred to herself as the Little Flower of Francis, indicating that she had grown up under his instruction. This is indeed true; the friendship between Francis and Clare was instrumental not only in Clare's personal development, but in her influence on a local and even church-wide scale. It is likely that without Francis's notoriety and support, Clare could not have had the influence she did. This continues even today in strange ways. For instance, when an earthquake hit Assisi 10 years ago, Francis's basilica was almost immediately re-built; Clare's, on the other hand, was still in pieces when I first saw it in 2001.

I had guarded expectations for my return to visit Clare this year. I was afraid her little basilica would be just as battered as before, and her tomb (holding her visible remains, which are no longer uncorrupted but still contain her perfectly-preserved skeleton) would be inaccessible. Imagine my surprise when this was not the case! While the frescoes that once decorated the church can never be recovered, those that could be displayed are fully visible. A side chapel allows pilgrims to pray. And perhaps most amazing is the lower crypt where Clare's body can actually be seen at very close distance.

In so many ways, Clare's life has influenced mine. I came to know about her in a very important time in my life, as I discerned my call to ministry. Her passion to service, ability to look past obstacles, and her choice of a humble life in spite of the amazing resources at her disposal, encouraged me to do the same as I best could. Her ability to endure suffering no matter what happened reminded me that I also had been granted the same confidence in Christ. Most amazingly, her feminine nature shown through in what was very much a man's world to no detriment of her ministry; I can hope the same for myself.

It was truly a delight to return to Clare's house. During the weekend in Assisi, I found myself wanting to sneak back into the basilica - and not just because it was a warm, quiet place on such a freezing, busy weekend. Being in her church reminded me of the service she offered and the testimony of her life. I am honored to have her as a sister in Christ, a fellow worker in the kingdom, and another exemplary member of the Communion of Saints.

Gracious God, in baptism you bring us together into one family. Thank you for the unity you offer us, and the opportunity to work side-by-side with such dedicated members of your kingdom like Clare. May her humility and tenacity inspire us to continually serve you through our neighbor no matter what happens. Because of your Son, we can endure all things. We pray these things in his name, Amen.

St. Francis of Assisi

We want you to know, brothers and sisters, about the grace of God that has been granted to the churches of Macedonia; for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For, as I can testify, they voluntarily gave according to their means, and even beyond their means, begging us earnestly for the privilege of sharing in this ministry to the saints - and this, not merely as we expected; they gave themselves first to the Lord and, by the will of God, to us - 2 Corinthians 8:1-5

If you ask almost anyone who their favorite saint is, there's a good chance they'll name St. Francis. After all, he is the saint associated with animals (it's his feast day that even non-Catholic churches use to hold a ceremony for the blessing of animals) and is said to have even preached to the birds. Indeed, his life demonstrates a yearning for simplicity and a love of the natural order that truly draws people to him. It certainly doesn't hurt that he was a gifted writer and clearly a very religious, deeply spiritual man.

Strangely enough, there is another side to this beloved saint. He had a problematic fixation with the Crusades, wanting desperately to be martyred in battle with the heathens. In fact, he left Assisi several times to try to join an army, but was usually thwarted by disease. His confrontation with a Sultan in Egypt carries strong overtones of presumed Christian supremacy, not to mention Francis's thinly-veiled contempt. Some historians make a big deal of this, as there are always people who like to rip through inspiring tales and show the seedy underbelly. While I don't doubt that Francis had his darker side - he was human, after all, and as tormented as any deeply devout person of God can be - I don't know that this negates his character.

After all, he dedicated his life whole-heartedly to poverty in spite of his family's great wealth. In fact, the Franciscan dedication to poverty was revolutionary for an order at the time, and their service to the poor was above and beyond what others had committed to. He was able to refocus from a life of internal contemplation to true outward dedication to neighbor. He even showed great respect for women, something very unlikely for men of his time. In other words, he might not have been perfect, but that does not make him less worthy of admiration.

When I went to Assisi, I knew I would come face-to-face with Francis again. The last time I was in Assisi, I didn't know about the so-called "dark side" of this saint. I worried a little if this second visit would be colored by it. The truth is I was still just as inspired by his example and memory as I had been before. Frankly, I'm glad I know this other side of Francis, as it reminds me that in the end, he was human just like me. Perhaps, like Francis, I can serve my neighbor and dedicate my life to service and love for creation, even in spite of my failings.

Our Great God, there are great people in this world who have truly shown us what it is like to be your servant. Thank your for the testimony of saints like Francis, whose compassion for the other - whether human or creature - inspire us to greater love for all your creation. Remind us that no matter our sins and failings, we can turn to you and be constantly made new. We may be poor in spirit, but in your Son, we are rich in grace. Grant us these things in his name, Amen.