Reflections

Nathan Rawlins

 

With the outbreak of the First World War, Pope St Pius X was said to have died of a broken heart. Following his death, the College of Cardinals elected Archbishop Giacomo Paolo Giovanni Battista della Chiesa, who was only 59 to the Papacy. The new pope—who had only been a cardinal for a few months—took the name Benedict XV and faced a world at war on such a scale it was deemed ‘The War to End All Wars’. 

Advent is coming, and it’s the time in the liturgical year of ‘devout and expectant delight’. But Advent is also a period of liturgical moderation. We anticipate the joy of the Incarnation and Christ’s Second Coming, but we want to keep our joy bridled, so that we can properly prepare ourselves for our encounter with these great aspects of the Paschal Mystery. 

 

There is a moving scene in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ in which Mary runs to assist Jesus after he falls under the weight of the Cross. Jesus embraces her and says, ‘See, Mother, I make all things new.’ The statement, which is a derivation of Revelation 21:5, sums up the mysterious and paradoxical way that Jesus is radically transforming creation. Yet, how could Jesus be making all things new as he is ground down by the worst violence and evil? How could something new come out of failure or good come out of evil? 

If children do not know how to read an age-appropriate Bible—if we, their parents, have not taught them Bible literacy—how can they possibly interpret the vast amount of ideas, all competing not just for their attention but their allegiance, through a Biblical lens?