Mass of the Holy Spirit: Opening of the New Academic Year
September 5th, 2007 by Fr. Pius, OP
On Friday, August 31, 2007, the Pontifical Faculty of the Immaculate Conception celebrated the Mass of the Holy Spirit to seek God’s blessing on the opening of the new academic year. The Mass was also an opportunity for the school to gather together under its new President, the Very Rev. Steven C. Boguslawski, OP. Fr. Boguslawski was the main celebrant of the Mass and also delivered the homily.
In his homily, Fr. Boguslawski reminded us of the unique mission of theologcal education. The teaching of theology is not simply about, “the acquisition of data about biblical hermeneutics or the history of doctrines.” Rather, theological knowledge, “finds completion in contemplation that seeks a kind of union, a love of the Most Blessed Trinity; three persons in one God; a mysterious Godhead who indwells.” Our belief does not terminate in a set of porpositions, but in a community of persons — the Trinity.
Following the Mass, the students, faculty, and staff of the Pontifical Faculty were invited to join the friars for an informal cook-out dinner. This provided an opportunity for returning students to catch-up on the events of the summer, as well as new students and faculty to get to know each other. Finally, it was a chace for the school to be introduced to all of the new members of the administraion. In addition to Fr. Boguslawski, the Rev. Gabriel O’Donnel, OP, is the new Academic Vice President and Dean and the Rev. Joseph Fox, OP, is the new Vice President for Advancement.
Here is the full text of the homily that Fr. Boguslawski preached at the Mass:
One of the Dominican brethren at Providence College, who long ago “went to the Lord”, had an ardent desire for order in life. He found the lackadaisical attitude of some friars to be a real penance, and so he sought to impose order wherever he could by (of all things) making labels—indicating where everything should be placed. Everything. Absolutely everything. I recall celebrating Mass in a campus residence named St. Stephen Hall, long before it housed the Feinstein Center for Public Service. Atop the residence hall on the floor where fifteen or so Dominicans lived, there was a small chapel. Early one morning I entered the chapel and began vesting for Mass, discovering the multitude of green plastic labels meant to guide residents and visitors alike. I opened the closet door: Alb: Small, Medium, Large. I selected the medium. Cincture: With Tassels, Without Tassels. I selected the tasseled cincture. Chasubles: Simple Sets: Green, White, Red, Purple, Festive Sets: Green, White, Red, Purple. I opened the cabinet: Chalice and Patten: Ferial, Solemn; Purificators; Finger Towels; Ablution bowl; and so forth. I sighed. I thought, “This guy must be driving the brethren crazy.” I finished vesting. At the beginning of Mass, I genuflected and then venerated the altar. As I looked up I discovered that someone, in a sort of silent protest, had made a similar label in red and had affixed it to the tabernacle. It read: “Jesus”. “Quite right”, I thought, and smiled.
Whether in discrete projects or even in the pursuit of one’s vocational call, we can sometimes become so fixated upon details that we forget our goal or final cause; what it is that draws us to undertake a project or even a vocation. The human condition is such that we can easily confuse the imposition of order, externally, with mastery or control. And with life experience we discover soon enough that such ‘order’ is really illusory. It is our feeble attempt to grasp control. Despite the abundance of labels or notes, the brethren will still leave the unfilled cruets on the sacrarium, and the ants delight in an unexpected repast. Sacristans, please take note.
Paul reminds the Thessalonians (1 Thes 4:1-8) that the will of God for them is holiness. This is the ultimate good. They have received from the Apostle ample instruction on how it is that they are to conduct themselves in order to please God. In fact, they seem to be following his counsel. Nonetheless, he urges them to “do so even more” and specifies a sexual ethic that stands in sharp contradistinction to the behavior of the Gentiles “who do not know God” as they do. They have been taught: one is to acquire mastery of one’s passions; one is not to exploit a brother or sister. For God did not call them to impurity, but to holiness. And, he makes the life of holiness possible—not simply by giving them instruction, but by giving the Holy Spirit to them: the power to walk in newness of life because God himself indwells.
Paul teaches them and us that exterior conformity to divine mandates is only a beginning. There must be perseverance in the face of time; a sort of remote preparation—sustained through time—for the final day. And yet, you might say that this ‘imposition of order’ from without shall be accompanied by an internal renewal that is effected by none other than the Holy Spirit Himself – God. That to which they are summoned – holiness – can only be made possible by the one who is Holy in se. This is what makes the New Law of grace radically new: the gift of God Himself dwelling within. Otherwise, the instructions which Paul gives the Thessalonians are but a “new and improved version of the Decalogue”; imparting knowledge, but essentially powerless to effect that which they teach; new tablets of stone which the children of men cannot bear nor break. A new way of living is only possible because the Holy Spirit has been given to us.
Preparedness for an eternity with God—for most of us—means perseverance in the face of time. While proximate preparation for our last days is desirable; it is not always guaranteed. An exterior conformity is insufficient. The Gospel parable (Mat 25:1-13) identifies two groups; those who are prepared and those who are not; those with “flasks of oil” and those without oil for their lamps. It should be underscored that both groups fall into slumber. It is not that one group stays awake and the other group does not. The bridegroom delays and they all fall asleep. The bridegroom comes and five virgins, with lamps alight because ‘readiness’ characterized them, enter the wedding feast. The other five rush off to the merchants and return to discover a locked door. Their pleading does not gain them access, indeed they receive a rebuke: “I do not know you.” Trying to remedy the lack of readiness at the last minute, that is, proximate to the arrival of the groom, does not gain them access. You might say, the belated exterior conformity—done amidst anxiety and with great effort, no doubt—is deemed to be insufficient. This message seems harsh and we may even feel a sympathy for the five left outside—they made a good faith effort, at least. And that precisely is the problem: the “at least” qualifier. It communicates a lack of regard for the bridegroom and for the wedding feast
In different ways, the Letter to the Thessalonians and the Gospel according to Matthew teach us lessons about proximate and remote preparation for a life with God. Granted, the Lord has the power to do as he wills, but holiness of life is generally not acquired overnight. Having received instruction does not necessarily mean that interior renewal is commensurate with acquired knowledge. Neither does the imposition of exterior order by the sheer exercise of one’s will signal an interior conformity to the truth, nor docility to the instruction of the Holy Spirit. Most certainly, one must have sufficient self-discipline to listen and to study. But, theological knowledge is more than the acquisition of data about biblical hermeneutics or the history of doctrines. “Although matters of faith are divine and eternal, yet faith itself is something temporal in the mind of the believer. Thus to know what one ought to believe, belongs to the gift of knowledge, but to know in themselves the very things we do believe, by a kind of union with them, this belongs to the gift of wisdom…and wisdom corresponds more to Love, which unites one’s mind to God.” (ST II.IIae.9.ad 1) This sort of knowledge finds completion in contemplation that seeks a kind of union, a love of the Most Blessed Trinity; three persons in one God; a mysterious Godhead who indwells. And, what we acquire by way of theological science through the exercise of faith, as well as the gifts of knowledge and understanding, are not derived by the imposition of mere order by our own efforts. It is a work of grace. However expert we become in the science of theology, belief terminates in a three-personned-Godhead, not in a set of propositions. The Father who created us; the Son who redeems us; the Holy Spirit who sanctifies us—this language of theological appropriation, helps us to understand—in a limited way—the Trinitarian life into which we are drawn by none other than Love Himself, none other than God Himself, yearning to love us into eternity.
It is for this reason that Paul’s counsel proscribes certain kinds of conduct as unworthy of us. It is for this reason that the parable exposes the inadequacy of human conduct left to itself. Why? Because we want to know in themselves the very things we believe, by a kind of union with them; and ultimately, to know nothing less than God in Himself by being in union with Him through Love. You see, such deficient human conduct is ultimately unworthy of us because it is unworthy of those who seek God. “This is the will of God, your holiness. Therefore, whoever disregards this, disregards not a human being but God, who also gives his Holy Spirit to you.” (1 Thess. 4:3-4) May the Lord who has begun this good work in you, bring it to completion through the outpouring of the Spirit in abundance. Amen.
