Catholic tradition has it that the Son of Man died on the cross and sojourned in the depths of Sheol — Hebrew for the place where the souls of the dead go. But he went not as an ordinary soul who becomes trapped there, but as the redeemer who freed the righteous and took them into their promised inheritance.
He conquered the bonds of death on the third day. The temple was destroyed, yet it was rebuilt. Thus, he became the “first-born from the dead” because by his victory he made possible our own resurrection when he came back in glory.
Such is the teaching of the Catholic Church: the resurrection was pivotal to the strength of the first Christian community’s faith. Then, it was central to the preaching of the apostles and disciples, and now, to that of the Church.
The resurrection speaks of a new life, a new beginning. Jesus came back renewed, and with the assurance that the faithful too will be in time.
But to the ordinary modern Catholic who piously goes to church on the required days and sells fish in the market the rest of the week, this teaching could be a little hard to grasp. Or accept, even.
Let us consider: today the ordinary person’s concept of a new life lies not in a transcendent order floating somewhere up there, but in the increasing desire to better one’s condition of living right here in this world.
Centuries of thought have finally come to this: that faith is becoming irrelevant not because its object is not true — it still stands to be proven at the appointed time — but because a new and better life just isn’t conceivable with all the hardships one hurdles every day.
Perhaps, it is because of the nature of faith itself, which is uncertainty, as contrasted to knowledge, which is acquisition of the truth. And we don’t want to be uncertain, established as our faith may be. This attitude spawns the variety of philosophical theories offered as alternatives to faith.
The consolation of the Church is that these theories are also remote from the absolute truth, but it cannot deny that their very existence drives a very significant point. Let’s face it. The Catholic Church is now, more than ever, challenged to render meaning to this conglomeration of adversities that we call life. It needs to address man’s more fundamental needs, such as survival and freedom from oppression by others.
Once again, it is Easter and we believe that Jesus is risen. But this belief does not put food on the poor man’s table.
The Church has done nothing more than criticize governments and their leaders as the poor remain poor and the rich still wallow in luxury. More than just blaming a country’s system of rule, the Church could deal with the problem in a more direct manner, and if it already does, with a more fervent determination.
The Church — faith — is the poor man’s last resort, and when that does not yield anything to make life more livable, where will he go? To previously uncharted depths of desperation.
Such may be the case of former President Estrada’s supporters. They believed his lies probably because these sounded more real than manna raining down unto the street. To a mother and her emaciated child plying the streets for their daily quota of crumbs, merely saying that they can overcome their trials with faith and hope just won’t do the trick.
They are truly blessed who believe despite all human concerns. But the number of people who have given up on the Church and the faith increases everyday.
It wouldn’t hurt if the Catholic Church reexamined itself. In the ‘60s, through John XXIII’s Second Vatican Council, the Church proclaimed that it is a part of the world, and not another reality. After centuries of exclusion, it opened its doors and windows to let the breeze of the world in.
Now, more than ever, we need the Church to prove this. The challenge: find a way to bring the transcendent into contact with reality. God must relate to the world in a more intimate way than just staying in the supernatural, out of reach.
But before that, there are conflicts within and around the Church that need settling. Instead of setting a good example, the Church is a microcosm of the larger corruption in society.
Envy and greed divide a priesthood that could be far better off and more effective as a genuine brotherhood. One need not look far for the evidence. Power struggles occur right in our local dioceses. The Church has its own brand of dirty politics in its hierarchy, which sometimes results in priests leaving the ecclesiastical territory, if not the ministry.
Recently, the Church admitted having sexual harassers within its ranks. Undeniably, this put a certain level of distrust in the way people now look at priests. The knowledge that one is not necessarily safe in the convent with a supposed servant of God could even discourage young men and women from pursuing their vocations.
Perhaps we have not gotten a long way since the older days when the Church did what it wanted and possessed unequaled power in both spiritual and societal matters. The only differences now are the sophisticated and discreet ways progress has provided for our daily task of fooling one another.
In a world where the succeeding generations are predicted to be completely apathetic to the Church and its teachings come a decade or two, an atmosphere must be set in which it is all right to believe. That is, the ordinary man must live within the boundaries of decent human existence before he can actually concentrate on his faith. When that ideal time comes, it will be easier to look beyond worldly concerns, to look forward to a new life after death.
It is Easter once again; we have been celebrating a new beginning since the tolling of the bells and the singing of the Gloria on Easter Sunday when Christ emerged from the tomb.
As we go on, we must make sure that we do have a reason to celebrate. Let us hope to emerge from our own “tomb.”
