Tony Lusvardi, S.J.

The Vatican Nativity Scene, 2024

Merry Christmas to all! I am spending Christmas at the church of the Santa Vergine degli Angeli in Maracalagonis, Sardinia, where I was fortunate to spend Holy Week earlier this year.

Before I left Rome, I was able to check out this year’s Nativity scene in St. Peter’s Square, always a source of discussion (and sometimes critique) among Romans. (For comparison, here are pictures of the Vatican Nativity scenes from the past two years: 2022 and 2023.) Last year was the 800th anniversary of this tradition, attributed to St. Francis–more about its origins in the town of Greccio here and here.

This year’s Vatican scene has a river theme, with the three kings making an aquatic landing in Bethlehem. As I noted last year, the point of such popular devotions, like Ignatian contemplation, is not to recreate history–or geography–but to help us find ourselves in the story. To that end, I found this year’s Nativity attractive and I especially liked the ducks in the foreground!

Wishing everyone many blessings and much happiness this Christmas!

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The urnas of Bohol

Among 2024’s highlights was my first trip to the Philippines, where I attended a meeting of Jesuit liturgists, caught up with some Jesuit friends, did my annual 8-day retreat, and had a chance to explore a bit of that wonderful country, without doubt one of the most devout in the world.

One of my discoveries when visiting the island of Bohol, home to the iconic Chocolate Hills, was a particular local devotional tradition, the “urnas,” which are small shrines made for homes during the colonial period. The urnas first caught my attention in the museum of the Church of St. Augustine in Manila (below), but it was only when I arrived in Bohol that someone explained the tradition. The urnas typically contain a saint and are beautifully carved and painted.

Some of the saints depicted reflect the missionary orders that evangelized the areas, and others give a window into the local piety of the time. Note for example, the statue of St. Roch (with his dog), a saint often invoked against plague. St. Vincent Ferrer also seems to have been particularly popular. This depiction of the Holy Family seems appropriate as Christmas approaches:

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.