An Apologia

(This is the "Pastor's Reflection" on Page Two of the Good Shepherd Parish Bulletin, July 18, 2010.)

The word sounds like an apology, but it's not. While there may be a lot of things for which I should say "I'm sorry," that’s not what this column is about.

An "apologia," derived from a Greek word, actually means an explanation of oneself, intended to help others understand where one is coming from. The famous Cardinal John Henry Newman, who will be beatified in September by Pope Benedict when he visits England, wrote a book entitled Apologia Pro Vita Sua, an explanation of his reasons for  converting from the Church of England to the Roman Catholic Church. The word occurs several times in the New Testament, best known in 1 Peter 3:15: "Always be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks you for a reason for your hope."

Last Monday, I gave the first presentation on our "Catholic History and Heritage" to a group of about 60 parishioners, squeezed into the Good Shepherd Room of the Parish Center. Folks seemed to enjoy it, and most said they were coming back for tomorrow evening's presentation, which I am moving to the Parish Hall to give us more room. I have already posted it online, along with the notes, and you can listen and download it at my blogsite, http://tomwelbers.net. Even if you did not make it to the first presentation, you are still very welcome to the next ones: Mondays at 7:00 PM in the Parish Hall (until August 16).

Sometimes, I may seem (at least to myself), obsessed with the probing of our history to discover its lessons for us today, and doing everything I can to share these insights with you. I am convinced that, today more than ever, Catholics cannot just coast along uncritically on what we learned when we were growing up. Growing in faith means each of us has to become something like, as Jesus tells us, "the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old." (Matthew 13:52)

So, in all fairness and to keep my interest and passion from becoming just an intellectually satisfying academic exercise, I really do have to take the time and effort to explain why I think probing our history and heritage is so important and what lessons do I think we can all gain from doing this. In other words, that all important question, "So what?" What I have to say here is a first word, not a last word.

First, as to the "why." none of us can divorce ourselves from our past. We have no choice of our DNA. That has been given to us through the union of egg and sperm over countless generations. Actually, we can count: if modern humans originated in Africa around 100,000 years ago, and if a generation is, say, 20 years from one's birth until the time one has a baby, then you and I have in our genetic makeup at least 5,000 distinct pairs of human ancestors. Each of them, through their union and the new individual they brought about, has contributed to what you and I are today! The more we know about them, the more we know about ourselves.

The same thing is true of our faith community, the Catholic Church. It has a long and checkered history, not all of it will make us feel good. But it's important to know, understand, and evaluate it because that history has formed who and what we are today. History in itself does not repeat, but the patterns of relationships and behaviors that make up the "stuff" of history continue to be the building blocks of our world.

I'd like to propose several very specific "lessons" that we can and need to learn and benefit from. The first is the importance of humility. Our strongest convictions and deepest motives are best held lightly, humbly, and with humor. Otherwise, they become monstrous distortions, born of fear and arrogance, that too often divide and destroy rather than heal and build. Sadly, that has happened over and over again in our history.

Another lesson is that it's important to identify our core truths -- those things worth dying for, (nothing except perhaps last-resort self defense, is worth killing for) -- that are central to our faith, those things that, without which we can no longer in any way call ourselves Christian or Catholic. These "core truths" are fewer than we think, and everything else is secondary, or derivative. "Secondary" does not mean unimportant, but it does mean that it properly exists only in relation to the primary, and not on its own.

What are those "core truths," at least as my exploration of our faith history and heritage would identify them? That's what I will talk about repeatedly in upcoming sessions of this series, and what I will simultaneously explore in these bulletin articles over the next few weeks.

Stay tuned, and may God bless you.

I love you.

Fr. Tom Welbers