Christians are indistinguishable from other men; and yet there is something extraordinary about their lives

From a letter to Diognetus (2nd century)

Christians are indistinguishable from other men either by nationality, language or customs. They do not inhabit separate cities of their own, or speak a strange dialect, or follow some outlandish way of life. Their teaching is not based upon reveries inspired by the curiosity of men. Unlike some other people, they champion no purely human doctrine. With regard to dress, food and manner of life in general, they follow the customs of whatever city they happen to be living in, whether it is Greek or foreign.

And yet there is something extraordinary about their lives. They live in their own countries as though they were only passing through. They play their full role as citizens, but labor under all the disabilities of aliens. Any country can be their homeland, but for them their homeland, wherever it may be, is a foreign country. Like others, they marry and have children, but they do not expose them. They share their meals, but not their wives. They live in the flesh, but they are not governed by the desires of the flesh. They pass their days upon earth, but they are citizens of heaven. Obedient to the laws, they yet live on a level that transcends the law.

Christians love all men, but all men persecute them. Condemned because they are not understood, they are put to death, but raised to life again. They live in poverty, but enrich many; they are totally destitute, but possess an abundance of everything. They suffer dishonor, but that is their glory. They are defamed, but vindicated. A blessing is their answer to abuse, deference their response to insult. For the good they do they receive the punishment of malefactors, but even then they rejoice, as though receiving the gift of life. They are attacked by the Jews as aliens, they are persecuted by the Greeks, yet no one can explain the reason for this hatred.

To speak in general terms, we may say that the Christian is to the world what the soul is to the body. As the soul is present in every part of the body, while remaining distinct from it, so Christians are found in all the cities of the world, but cannot be identified with the world. As the visible body contains the invisible soul, so Christians are seen living in the world, but their religious life remains unseen. The body hates the soul and wars against it, not because of any injury the soul has done it, but because of the restriction the soul places on its pleasures. Similarly, the world hates the Christians, not because they have done it any wrong, but because they are opposed to its enjoyments.

Christians love those who hate them just as the soul loves the body and all its members despite the body’s hatred. It is by the soul, enclosed within the body, that the body is held together, and similarly, it is by the Christians, detained in the world as in a prison, that the world is held together. The soul, though immortal, has a mortal dwelling place; and Christians also live for a time amidst perishable things, while awaiting the freedom from change and decay that will be theirs in heaven. As the soul benefits from the deprivation of food and drink, so Christians flourish under persecution. Such is the Christian’s lofty and divinely appointed function, from which he is not permitted to excuse himself.

The reasons why we praise God on Sunday, specially attending the Mass

An old hymn of the Liturgy sums up the reasons why we praise God on Sunday, specially attending the Mass:

On this day, the first of days,
God the Father’s Name we praise,
who, creation’s Lord and Spring,
did the world from darkness bring.

On this day His only Son
over death the triumph won;
on this day the Spirit came
with his gifts of living flame.

On this day His people raise,
Lord, your sacrifice of praise;
as we laud the saints above
turned on Christ’s redeeming love.

Praise for God through He be given,
praise on earth and praise in heaven,
praise to thy eternal Son.
On his day our peace we won.

(From the Breviary of the Diocese of LeMans, 1748)

God calls us even casting lots

This homily by St. John Chrysostom shows us that the early Church wanted to do God’s will, not yours, and also shows us that God calls to each one of us, even through castings lots:

“In those days, Peter, stood up in the midst of the disciples and said” (Acts 1, 15-26)… As the fiery spirit to whom the flock was entrusted by Christ and as the leader in the band of the apostles, Peter always took the initiative in speaking: “My brothers, we must choose from among our number”. He left the decision to the whole body, at once augmenting the honour of those elected and avoiding any suspicion of partiality. For such great occasions can easily lead to trouble.

Did not Peter then have the right to make the choice himself? Certainly he had the right, but he did not want to give the appearance of showing special favour to anyone. Besides he was not yet endowed with the Spirit.
“And they nominated two, we read, Joseph, who was called Barsabbas and surnamed Justus, and Matthias”. He himself did not nominate them; all present did. But it was he who brought the issue forward, pointing out that it was not his own idea but had been suggested to him by a scriptural prophecy. So he was speaking not as a teacher but as an interpreter.

So, he goes on, “we must choose from those men who lived in our company”. Notice how insistent he is that they should be eyewitnesses. Even though the Spirit would come to ratify the choice, Peter regards this prior qualification as most important.

“Those who lived in our company, to continue the passage, all through the time when the Lord Jesus came and went among us”. He refers to those who had dwelt with Jesus, not just those who had been his disciples. For of course from the very beginning many had followed him. Notice how it is written that Peter himself was “one of the two who had listened to John, and followed Jesus.”

“All through the time when the Lord Jesus came and went among us, to continue further, beginning with the baptism of John” – rightly so, because no one knew what had happened before that time, although they were to know of it later through the Spirit.

“Up to the day, Peter added, on which he was taken up from us – one of these must be made a witness along with us of his resurrection”. He did not say “a witness of the rest of his actions” but only “a witness of the resurrection”. That witness would be more believable who could declare that he who ate and drank and was crucified also rose from the dead. He needed to be a witness not of the times before or after that event, and not of the signs and wonders, but only of the resurrection itself. For the rest happened by general admission, openly; but the resurrection took place secretly, and was known to these men only.
And they all prayed together, saying: “You, Lord, know the hearts of men; make your choice known to us”. You, not we. Appropriately they said that he knew the hearts of men, because the choice was to be made by him, not by others.

They spoke with such confidence, because someone had to be appointed. They did not say “choose” but “make known to us” the chosen one; the one you choose, they said, fully aware that everything was preordained by God. “They then drew lots”. For they did not think themselves worthy to make the choice of their own accord, and therefore they wanted some sign for their instruction.

Acts 1:24-25: Lord, you know the hearts of all. Show us the one whom you have chosen to assume this ministry and apostleship. They cast lots and the choice fell upon Matthias, and he was added to the eleven apostles.

Jesus Christ is Alpha (the fountain) and Omega (the close)

(an Hymn by  Marcus Aurelius Clemens Prudentius, 348-405)

Of the Father’s heart begotten
Ere the world from chaos rose,
He is Alpha: from that Fountain,
all that is and hath been flows;
He is Omega, of all things
yet to come the mystic Close,
Evermore and evermore.

By his word was all created;
He commanded and ’twas done;
Earth and sky and boundless ocean,
Universe of three in one,
All that sees the moon’s soft radiance,
All that breathes beneath the sun,
Evermore and evermore.

He assumed this mortal body,
Frail and feeble, doomed to die,
That the race from dust created
Might not perish utterly,
Which the dreadful Law had sentenced
In the depths of hell to lie,
Evermore and evermore.

O how blest that wondrous birthday,
When the Maid the curse retrieved,
Brought to birth mankind’s salvation,
By the Holy Ghost conceived,
And the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,
In her loving arms received,
Evermore and evermore.

This is he, whom seer and sybil
Sang in ages long gone by;
This is he of old revealed
In the page of prophecy;
Lo! he comes, the promised Saviour;
Let the world his praises cry!
Evermore and evermore.

Sing, ye heights of heaven, his praises;
Angels and Archangels, sing!
Wheresoe’er ye be, ye faithful,
Let your joyous anthems ring,
Every tongue his name confessing,
Countless voices answering,
Evermore and evermore.

I know that my Redeemer lives! (an Easter hymn by Samuel Medley, 1775)

I know that my Redeemer lives!

What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever living head!

He lives triumphant from the grave;
He lives eternally to save;
He lives exalted, throned above;
He lives to rule his Church in love.

He lives to grant me rich supply;
He lives to guide me with his eye;
He lives to comfort me when faint;
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.

He lives to silence all my fears;
He lives to wipe away my tears;
He lives to calm my troubled heart;
He lives all blessings to impart.

He lives to bless me with his love;
He lives to plead for me above;
He lives my hungry soul to feed;
He lives to help in time of need.

He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly friend;
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while he lives, I’ll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King!

He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death;
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.

He lives, all glory to his name!
He lives, my savior, still the same;
What joy this blest assurance gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives!

Corea, un ejemplo de apostolado de los laicos

El desarrollo del cristianismo en Corea constituye un caso inusitado en la historia de la Iglesia, pues la fe prendió en estas tierras gracias a la acción apostólica de un grupo de seglares.

En 1780, un grupo de jóvenes de la nobleza se ha­cen con algunos libros sobre la religión católica, que lle­gan al país a través de China. Se reúnen y estudian el contenido de esos libros, aunque en un primer momento se limitan a comparar los principios católicos con los de la filosofía confuciana.

Uno de los principales promotores de este pequeño círculo es Yi Byók, joven con inquietudes religiosas que crecen paralelas al estudio de la religión, Con él, otro de los primeros es Yi Süng-hun, hijo de un alto dignatario imperial, y de grandes dotes intelectuales: lee y escribe con facilidad el chino desde la infancia; procura imitar las vidas de santos que conoce, aplicándolas a su situa­ción en el mundo, y promueve la fe católica entre sus amigos. Su entusiasmo es contagioso, y pronto se le agregan varios de sus hermanos y primos.

Pasan tres años dedicados al estudio de la doctrina cristiana. Ya hace tiempo que los intereses culturales han dado paso a una profunda inquietud personal. En el invierno de 1783 se presenta la ocasión de dar un nuevo paso. Yi Súng-hun acompaña a su padre en una misión diplomática a China, que es por entonces el único modo de entablar contacto con representantes del Catolicismo. En Pekín, Yi Súng-hun permanece cuarenta días, realiza el anhelado encuentro con misioneros católicos, y es bautizado con el nombre de Pedro.

De vuelta a Seúl, cargado de rosarios, libros, imáge­nes, y con el tesoro del bautismo, Pedro bautiza a Yi­Byók, que recibe el nombre de Juan Bautista; y éste a su vez administra el sacramento a los hermanos Chóng, a los Kwón y a muchos otros. A partir de ahora, el grupo de estudiosos se transforma en círculo de fieles. Kim Bóm-u entrega su casa, que queda convertida en la pri­mera iglesia coreana, Un siglo después, en este mismo emplazamiento, se construiría la actual catedral Myóng­dong, de Seúl.

El régimen de vida de esos primeros cristianos es muy elemental. Los domingos se reúnen para rezar y es­tudiar la fe. Abandonan la rígida distinción de clases y el ofrecimiento de sacrificios a los antepasados, propios del confucianismo. Se denominan entre sí amigo creyente y, además de rezar, se dedican con empeño a la difusión de literatura católica mediante traducciones a la lengua co­reana.

En cinco años, el grupo inicial crece vigorosamente, y se siente acuciante la necesidad de sacerdotes. Después de un intento infructuoso de resolver esa dificultad, acu­den al obispo de Pekín, quien les insiste en la urgencia de abrir las puertas cuanto antes a la entrada de sacerdo­tes en Corea.

Ese mismo año, 1789, se desencadena la primera persecución que provoca el arresto, la tortura y poste­rior muerte en el exilio de Kim Bóm-u, el propietario de la casa donde se reúnen los fieles, y de otros cristianos. Por otra parte, es inconcebible que un miembro de la nobleza rechace el ofrecimiento de sacrificios a su madre difunta. La negativa de Pablo Yun Chi-Ch'ung llega a oídos del rey Chóng-ho. El Cristianismo aparece ante sus ojos como un peligro para las tradiciones patrias, y más aún su difusión entre la nobleza. El 7 de diciembre de 1791, Pablo y Santiago son condenados a muerte. Han pasado sólo siete años desde el primer bautismo, y estos dos martirios son una prueba del arraigo de la fe en los primeros católicos.

Este primer encuentro con la Cruz no es más que el preludio de una serie interminable de persecuciones, ca­da vez más violentas y crueles, que durará casi un siglo.

En 1794, diez años después del bautismo de Pedro, llega desde China el primer sacerdote, Chu Mun-mo Ve­llozo. Es comprensible su estupor al comprobar que ya hay en Corea cuatro mil católicos. Pero su presencia es la chispa que desencadena una segunda persecución.

Al emperador Chóng-ho le sucede su hija, quien toma severas medidas en 1801 para erradicar el Cristianismo del país. Encarcela a cristianos de todos los estratos de la socie­dad, sin respetar a sus parientes. Du­rante esta nueva persecución pierden la vida alrededor de trescientos católicos, entre ellos el sacerdote Vellozo.

Los supervivientes a la muerte o al destierro, espe­cialmente los miembros de la nobleza, buscan refugio en las montañas, donde perseveran --de nuevo sin sacerdotes- durante más de 30 años. Pero el crecimiento de la Iglesia es imparable. Incluso en los más duros momentos de persecución, fieles coreanos visitan con frecuencia al obispo de Pekín, solicitando el envío de algún sacerdote. Llegan incluso a dirigirse al Papa Pío VII, alegando la existencia de 10.000 católicos en Corea.

Las persecuciones se suceden una tras otra: 1815, 1827... Pero la Iglesia sigue crecien­do: una vez más, la sangre de los mártires se convierte en semilla de cristianos.

En 1831 se constituye un Vicariato apostólico, pero el Obispo no llega a pisar el país: muere en Mongolia, en 1835. Dos años después llega por fin Mons. Laurent Ma­rie Joseph Imbert, acompañado de dos sacerdotes. Los tres mueren mártires al año siguiente, en el curso de una nueva ofensiva.

En 1845 llega a Corea el tercer Vicario Apostólico, acompañado de dos sacerdotes, y entre ellos el primero coreano, Andrés Kim Tae-gón, que sufriría martirio ape­nas un año más tarde. Con todo, a la vuelta de veinte años, los católicos eran ya unos veintitrés mil.

Por estas fechas, el número de mártires de la fe se cuenta por millares, pero no es más que un botón de muestra de lo que se avecina. En 1864 se produce un cambio dinástico y sube al trono un niño de doce años. Hasta que alcance la mayoría de edad será su padre quien ostente la regencia. Son momentos en los que se implanta el proteccionismo económico y se intentan evi­tar las ingerencias extranjeras, consideradas como la fuente de todos los problemas de Corea. Se desencadena una nueva persecución, que va a cobrarse un ingente tri­buto de sangre católica. Sólo en Seúl, perecen unos 400 católicos. En septiembre de 1868, son martirizados unos 2.000 fieles, y 8.000 más sufren trabajos forzados o la muerte, en 1870.

A pesar de la serie interminable de contradicciones, una de las más trágicas en la historia del Catolicismo, a comienzos del siglo XX se contaban en Corea 50.000 fieles.

La Iglesia, abundantemente regada con sangre de mártires, ha fructificado fecunda. Durante su viaje apostólico a Corea en 1984 para celebrar el bi­centenario de la Iglesia en ese país, Juan Pablo II canoni­zó a 103 mártires coreanos.