Is there a mystery deeper than the midnight sky,

"Be still, and know that I am God." - Psalm 46:11 (NAB)
The (sometimes) prayerful reflections of an Augustinian friar

Location:E 53rd St,Chicago,United States
Assuming that the guilty party's identity and responsibility have been fully determined, the traditional teaching of the Church does not exclude recourse to the death penalty, if this is the only possible way of effectively defending human lives against the unjust aggressor.
If, however, non-lethal means are sufficient to defend and protect people's safety from the aggressor, authority will limit itself to such means, as these are more in keeping with the concrete conditions of the common good and more in conformity to the dignity of the human person.
Today, in fact, as a consequence of the possibilities which the state has for effectively preventing crime, by rendering one who has committed an offense incapable of doing harm - without definitely taking away from him the possibility of redeeming himself - the cases in which the execution of the offender is an absolute necessity "are very rare, if not practically nonexistent."
Location:S Cornell Ave,Chicago,United States
One of the challenges of consecrated celibate living is the frequent encounters with loneliness. Yet precisely because this is consecrated living, meaning a way of life that is set apart in a special way for the work of God, this loneliness itself is a place of ministry. By learning to experience the sacredness of our own loneliness, we as religious become better prepared to minister to the loneliness of others, which is one of the most beautiful gifts that this vocation has to offer.
It is a challenge, though, because loneliness itself brings so many temptations, can lead to such confusion, and often leads to a depression that makes it difficult to grow spiritually in the way that we are being called to do. This loneliness, when encountered in patient, faithful prayer, draws us to a depth of our existence, a depth of our soul, that is truly sacred - a place where even God is silent. The key to this silence is learning to sit with it, not to run away from it or strive to fill it with all sorts of superficial things - whether it be our own internal chatter, or filling it with the company of others (community is to be embraced, of course, but not just as a way of filling a void - then community becomes superficial), or something more insidious like drugs, alcohol, sex, and so on. For this truly to be a consecrated loneliness, it requires patience, stillness, and prayer.
Entering this space where God is silent, this place of prayer, we must resist the temptation to speak to the loneliness, but rather instead learn to let the loneliness speak to us. Speaking to the loneliness is its own temptation - trying to figure out what it means, speculating on its causes, fabricating a secret agenda that this loneliness is behind. This can lead to all sorts of spiritual crises - am I really called to be a religious? Am I supposed to be with her? How do I know this is what God wants for me? It's not that the answers to these questions aren't important, but rather that asking them in the midst of the loneliness is a deception itself.
Letting the loneliness speak to us, however, requires a great patience, but ultimately it brings us into contact with our own existence, the reality of our very humanity. It leads us directly to the Cross, to the Passion of Christ, because it is there that Jesus had his own experience of abandonment, of loneliness. Yet precisely because Jesus is both truly God and truly human, his own experience of loneliness means that ours becomes a place of encounter with God. It is here then that the Passion truly speaks to us, not in words but in silence, and reveals to us that the emptiness of the tomb is a sign not of death, but of resurrection.
That empty tomb - a reflection of our own seemingly forsaken souls - also tells us that God is not always found where we expect him to be. Mary went to the tomb expecting to find Christ, and he was not there. Yet she sat there - yes, weeping, mourning, saddened by her sense of loss and abandonment and confusion, but nonetheless she sat and waited. And then Jesus appeared, and called her by name, so that she became the witness to the resurrection - a witness of hope! This is the challenge of our own loneliness, not to run, not to perceive the emptiness of our own tomb and go seeking Christ elsewhere, but rather to sit, patiently awaiting the one who will never abandon us, no matter how confused we may be. Then we too may become witnesses of hope and can minister to the sacred loneliness which permeates our suffering our world.
Behold, you are beautiful, my love;
behold, you are beautiful;
your eyes are doves.
Behold, you are beautiful, my beloved,
truly lovely. --Song of Songs 1:15-16
Perhaps one of the most tragic ironies of the world in which we live is that an increasingly superficial obsession with beauty has assisted in so many of us failing to see how beautiful we really are. We can so often see beauty throughout God's creation - I thought of this especially yesterday walking along Lake Michigan as the first hints of autumn's crimson glory began adorning the swaying boughs of oaken scepters. Yet when it comes to our inner eye, that secret eye which gazes into the very depths of who we are, a vision which should reveal to us the incomparable and unspeakable beauty of the image and likeness of God, so often we are blind.
I think this inability to see ourselves as beautiful often lies behind our seeing ugliness in others. Perhaps this is a too easily overlooked dimension of our own redemption in Christ. Allowing ourselves to perceive and embrace the truth - I AM BEAUTIFUL! - about ourselves sensitizes us to the beautiful reality of the person in front of us, enabling us to see the beautiful hand of the Creator in them, and to be bedazzled by the splendor of their being. Location:S Cornell Ave,Chicago,United States