Tony Lusvardi, S.J.

Look East! Homily for the Second Sunday of Advent

Homily for the Second Sunday of Advent (C)

“Look to my coming,” Gandolf tells Aragorn in the second installment of the Lord of the Ringstrilogy, The Two Towers. “At dawn on the fifth day, look east.” Those familiar with the story, know that Gandolf’s words come at a particularly dramatic moment in the epic, when the last holdouts of Rohan—one of the two remaining kingdoms of men not to succumb to the forces of evil—have retreated to their mountain stronghold, Helms Deep, and the walls of the fortress have begun to crumble, its gates to give way, and its doors to crack under the onslaught of a massive army sent by the turncoat wizard Saruman, who, seduced by power, has joined the forces of darkness. And as Aragorn, the king in exile, prepares for one final charge with what knights remain, he remembers the words of the faithful wizard Gandolf, who had left five days before to seek aid. “At dawn on the fifth day, look east.”

We read a similar instruction in the Book of Baruch, directed to the holy city, “Up, Jerusalem! Stand upon the heights; look to the east.” These words are echoed in the Advent hymn familiar to many of us, “People, Look East.” There is something primordial in this call, in the instinct to look in hope to the east. When I worked among the Lakota Sioux in South Dakota, I learned that in their traditional religion, east was the direction of prayer. I found some Lakota Christians very insistent on a Christian tradition—which I did not know about—of burying the dead facing east. The Christian tradition of prayer facing east goes back to the first centuries. St. Ambrose talks about catechumens, after their baptism, turning from the west to the east as a sign of the new orientation of their lives.

The Art of Waiting: Homily for the First Sunday of Advent

Basilica di Santa Maria Assunta, Torcello, Venice

Homily for the First Sunday of Advent (C)

One of the casualties of the smartphone revolution has been losing our ability to wait. Instead of waiting, we scroll. Losing the ability to wait may not seem a real loss, but I think it is. Scrolling and checking messages and adding new apps has not made me more productive. Instead, I’m more easily distracted and impatient. Inside our electronic cocoons, we miss the things that used to happen while we waited—people watching, striking up conversations, noticing the landscape from the window, wondering at it.

Today’s readings are about the art of waiting. But they warn us not to romanticize it. Times of waiting can be dangerous. Today’s Gospel identifies two dangers of waiting: anxiety and drowsiness.

The anxieties mentioned in the Gospel come from genuinely terrifying world events—“people will die of fright,” the Gospel warns—but also everyday anxieties that seem related to drowsiness. The context of today’s readings, of course, is the Lord’s second coming, when Jesus will return in awesome and awful judgment, remaking all reality. It may be that some of us are anxious about meeting Jesus because we’re afraid of that judgment. Paul warns the Thessalonians to conduct themselves to please God, as they have been taught. Advent is a time when the Church reminds us to examine our consciences, to make use of the sacrament of penance, to align our lives with Jesus’ teaching.

How all our holidays became Black Friday

I’m happy to have another piece appear in Plough, the wonderful magazine published by the Bruderhof community. I’ve had a few essays in Plough before, about travel and nature and spirituality. This time I’m writing about Black Friday. Last year, I blogged here about what a great holiday Thanksgiving is — expressing what is best in the American character. Black Friday, on the other hand, expresses just about what’s worst — and yet it’s the holiday that has been exported around the globe. Here’s the essay: What Religion Is Black Friday?

The essay begins, however, not with Black Friday itself, but by reflecting on the odd experience of arriving in Singapore on the day after Christmas a couple of years ago as I was on my way to Australia. The modern city-state was a delight to visit and my brief stop-over gave me plenty to think about. So check out the essay at Plough, and enjoy some pictures of the Singaporean sites mentioned here below.

Post-election thoughts from Rome

Augustus Caesar in the robes of supreme pontiff, Palazzo Massimo, Rome

As a follow up to my piece at The Catholic Thing on elections as civic rituals, America magazine asked me to reflect on how the US Presidential election looked from Rome. So here are my thoughts from an election morning walk to the Mausoleum of Caesar Augustus: Caesars, presidents and apostles: Viewing the presidential election from Rome. I was happy to see some pieces of our election rituals restored this time around; President Biden’s invitation of President-elect Trump to the White House was a gracious moment, more important as a symbol than because of anything said between the two men.

With the election now behind us, I also thought it worth sharing what for me was one of the more interesting–even edifying–reflections to come out of campaign. When he converted to Catholicism, Vice-President-elect JD Vance penned a thoughtful account of what led him to the faith in The Lamp (where yours truly has also published). Regardless of what you think of his politics, it is refreshing to read about a public figure’s faith journey, both personal and intellectual. I was particularly interested to read about the role René Girard’s work played in Vance’s conversion. From 2020, “How I joined the resistance” is worth a read.

Those who weren’t able to be at the book launch of Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation last month might be interested to read Jonathan Liedl’s account of the event–with a tie-in to one of Rome’s most unique Jesuit relics–in The Catholic Spirit: What a severed arm can tell us about evangelization. A reminder that the discount code CT10 gives 20% off on new releases when purchasing directly from the CUA Press website. The book is also available on Amazon and seems to be in stock again. In Italy, it might be faster to order through IBS or La Feltrinelli. The Libreria Sole across from the Gregorian University was also supposed to order copies. I hope to have a video of the talks from the book launch up on the Baptism of Desire page soon.

M.C. Escher in Rome

We’re now smack in the middle of another busy semester at the Gregorian University, which doesn’t leave much time for getting out in Rome. (Seeing the hordes of tourists you might not believe it, but not everyone in Rome is on vacation!)

The Eternal City remains eternally fascinating, however, and every once in a while will throw something at you that you weren’t expecting. I thought I’d share a few pictures from a visiting exhibition at Palazzo Bonaparte from last year on M.C. Escher (1898-1972). The Dutchman is perhaps not who you think of when picturing an Italian artist, yet his travels in Italy between 1925-1935, especially in Calabria, were particularly formative for him. When you realize this, you begin to notice that the impossibly fantastical geometric architecture in so many of his works bears a striking resemblance to the look and feel of an Italian hilltop village.

(Below: Inside St. Peter’s [1935]; Mummified Priests in Gangi, Sicily [1932]; San Giorgio in Velabro [1934]; Still Life with Mirror [1934]. Note the holy card of St. Anthony in the corner of the mirror.)

Launched: book, articles, interview

Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation is now in orbit after an excellent turnout at the official book launch at the Gregorian last Thursday. More good news: the code CT10 still gives you a 20% discount if ordering the book directly from Catholic University of America Press. At the presentation of the book, Fr. Joseph Carola gave an overview of its content and shared some stories from personal experience to illustrate its pastoral relevance. Fr. Bob Imbelli drew on other contemporary thinkers, such as Khaled Anatolios, Charles Taylor, and William Cavanaugh to demonstrate its relevance. I hope to have video of the presentations up on the Baptism of Desire page soon.

Fr. Joseph Carola, S.J., Fr. Robert Imbelli, Fr. Anthony Lusvardi, S.J.

Just a week before, I was also pleased to talk about the book with my old friend Sean Salai at Catholic World Report. Read the interview here: Defending the necessity of baptism: An interview with Fr. Anthony Lusvardi, S.J.

On another note, in this month’s First Things I return to an issue I raised a few years ago in an article in America magazine, the effects of technology on the liturgy. Here’s the new article: “Screens and Sacraments.” The original from 2020 is here.

And, finally, if you’re looking for some pre-election reading that isn’t about either Donald or Kamala, but instead about the way voting functions as a civic ritual, check out my latest at The Catholic Thing: “Rites (and Wrongs) of Democracy.“

Finding hope in Jerusalem, Babylon, and Sweden: homily for the thirtieth Sunday on Ordinary Time

Homily for the 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)

Today I’m going to talk about Jerusalem, Babylon, and Sweden—all of them, in different ways, places of hope.

We are probably used to hearing messages of hope in church, so we could easily miss just how remarkable our first reading from the prophet Jeremiah really is. This particular message of hope, if placed in context, is as startling as stumbling upon a lush citrus grove in the Arabian desert. To appreciate the passage, it helps to remember a bit about the tragic and cantankerous life of Jeremiah. This is the prophet, after all, whose name gives us the literary term “jeremiad” to describe a long speech bitterly denuncing something or someone. In fact, the book of Jeremiah contains plenty of jeremiads. The prophet denounces the elite of Jerusalem for straying from the law revealed to them by Moses, for their petty idolatry and corruption, for their self-satisfaction and complacency. Their cowardly refusal to return to the faith of their ancestors has left the Kingdom of Judah weak and vulnerable to its enemies, Jeremiah warns, as had many prophets before him. What sets Jeremiah apart from these other prophets of gloom is that he tells Jerusalem’s rulers that they have ignored God’s message for too long, and now it’s too late. A superpower has risen in the East—Babylon—and nothing Judah’s rulers do now will stop it. It is better, Jeremiah warns, to surrender.

Jeremiah’s message—“you’ve been leading us in the wrong direction for a generation, and you can’t escape the consequences of your actions”—did not win him popularity. Judah’s rulers hired a more optimistic prophet, Hananiah, who delivered a message more to their liking. But a few pages before today’s first reading, Hananiah drops dead, a none-too-subtle sign that the Lord does not approve his message. As the Babylonians close in and a brutal siege begins, Jeremiah tells the people of Jerusalem, you will be defeated, your city destroyed, and then you will be dragged off into exile.

Book launch, podcasts, and other news

I am pleased to see Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation in the news. Ralph Martin mentioned the book in his recent video Are All Religions a Path to God? As Dr. Martin points out, the research and arguments the book offers are highly relevant to some of the most difficult theological questions the Church faces today. As I’ve said before, perhaps the most urgent question the book raises has to do with whether we should still understand salvation to be at the heart of the Church’s mission. (Spoiler alert: Yes.)

With Dr. George Ceremuga at St. Isaac Jogues this summer.

I was also delighted to have a thoroughly enjoyable conversation a few weeks ago with Dr. George Ceremuga, friend and parishioner at St. Isaac Jogues parish in South Dakota, for the inaugural episode of his new Lead With Love podcast. We talked about Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation as well as Dr. George’s new book My 50 Day Pentecost in the Holy Land, in which he recounts some of the encounters and insights he had on an amazing journey through the Holy Land last year. UPDATE: the podcast is now out here. I’m collecting info and reviews about baptism of desire here.

And finally, as you can see from the flyer at the top of this post, I’m pleased to announce that we will have a book launch for Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation later this month at the Gregorian University. If you are in Rome, please come on Thursday October 24 to hear Fr. Robert Imbelli (coming all the way from New York!) and Fr. Joseph Carola discuss the book’s significance. The event will take place at 5:00 PM in room F007 of the Frascara Building at the Gregorian University. I’ll try to get the talks posted here, too, since it promises to be an interesting discussion.

And for something just a little bit different, you might want to check out the November issue of First Things. Just saying.

Homily for the Feast of St. Ignatius

The feast of St. Ignatius was back in July, of course, but I thought the reflections on discernment in my homily might be helpful in any season. Last year, I was asked for some thoughts on the process of communal discernment used by the Synod on Synodality. These reflections build on those observations.

Inigo the Pilgrim (2017), Church of St. Ignatius, Norwood, South Australia

You might have had the experience of the warning light on your dashboard coming on while you’re driving, signaling that you are low on gas, near the minimum. Here in South Dakota especially–where outside of the city gas stations can be few and far between–you don’t want to fall below that minimum. You might end up out in the cold or in this merciless heat—both dangerous circumstances—and in need of a good Samaritan to rescue you.

If you keep your tank filled, however, and don’t fall below the minimum, you can drive wherever you like. You just plug the destination into the GPS and go.

The warning light and the GPS are both helpful, but they serve different functions—the warning light tells us not to drop below the minimum and the GPS gives us directions. The readings for today’s feast of St. Ignatius, I think, point to a way of living the Christian faith that goes beyond the minimum.

If we think about the commandments, they are very useful for giving us the minimal rules of the road necessary to avoid an accident or a breakdown by the roadside. Because of this function, most of the commandments are written in a negative form—“Thou shall not…” Even those that aren’t prohibitions—“Keep holy the Sabbath” and “Honor thy father and mother”—set a minimum of necessary behaviors. Sunday Mass is the minimum necessary worship if we are to do justice to God, and fulfilling our family duties is the minimum necessary social obligation if we’re to maintain a functional social harmony.

But just doing the minimum isn’t enough to live a fulfilling life or to live a life of discipleship. If I put on my to-do list for tomorrow, “Don’t kill anyone, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal,” I’ll end up rather bored. The minimum tells us what to avoid, but not much of what to do.

Summer roundup

As you could probably tell from last week’s post, I’m back in Rome getting ready for the start of the new academic year next month. It was a full and eventful summer more than a restful one. It started out with my first trip to the Philippines for a meeting of the Jungmann Society, the international association of Jesuit liturgists, where I gave a talk on daily Mass in Jesuit communities. It was encouraging to meet many young Jesuits interested in the liturgy, especially those from Asia. Some new initiatives are coming out of the meeting as well. The initiative I am most excited about is an eight-day retreat for Jesuits I am preparing for next summer: “Praying the Liturgy,” which will be offered June 29 – July 7, 2025 at the Jesuit Retreat Center in Parma, OH. It is open to all Jesuits.

I also spent some quality time at St. Isaac Jogues in Rapid City and back at home in Minnesota, connecting with friends. For the first time, I led a retreat at the gorgeous new retreat center Cloisters on the Platte outside of Omaha, and attended a really excellent conference in Mundelein, IL on the divergent theologies of Karl Rahner and Joseph Ratzinger organized by Prof. Matthew Levering and the Greg’s own Fr. Aaron Pidel, SJ. Some theological all-stars there. A book will be coming out at a later date with papers from the conference, including my own contribution on the two theologians and the liturgy, arguing that Ratzinger continues the project of the Liturgical Movement while Rahner’s attitude toward the liturgy is an extension of pre-Vatican II scholasticism.

I’m also happy to have had a handful of new publications over the summer, including a pair of articles in America. One is about the sin of presumption, scientism, and Michael Jordan’s shoes, the other a broader perspective on the ‘Last Supper’ controversy at the Paris Olympics. Check ’em out if you haven’t already.

Also, if you didn’t get a chance, you might enjoy my article “Getting Back in the Baptizing Business” in The Catholic Thing which explains why I think my book on baptism of desire is important.

And speaking of Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation, I was pleased to be able to bring my summer to a close by giving several talks on the book in Sweden. I had an enjoyable discussion with the participants of the Hörge seminariet at the Newman Institute in Uppsala and was deeply encouraged by the large and energetic group of young adults at Sankta Eugenia in Stockholm. It is great to see the book both resonating with people and provoking discussion.

More on Baptism of Desire and Christian Salvation will be coming soon, including an official “book launch” here in Rome…