Agony in the Garden:
The place where angels strengthen us

Fourth in a seven-part Lenten series.

		The Garden of Gethsemane  The Place of Transformation Fr. Ronald Rolheiser

In a book soon to be released, Trevor Herriot writes: "Only after we have let the desert do its full work in us will angels finally come and minister to us."

That's one of the lessons of Gethsemane. It's only after the deserts of loneliness, duty, and helplessness have done their work in Jesus that "an angel from heaven came and ministered to him."

A unique thing can happen to us when we are overwhelmed. When the burden of self-sacrifice prostrates us in weakness and leaves us sweating blood, it's then that God's strength can flow into us most deeply. Many people have experienced this.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin Luther King, Jr., for example, recounts his own agony in the garden and the angel that came to strengthen him:

"One night toward the end of January, I settled into bed late, after a strenuous day. Coretta had already fallen asleep and just as I was about to doze off the telephone rang. An angry voice said, 'Listen, nigger, we've taken all we want from you; before next week you'll be sorry you ever came to Montgomery.'

"I hung up, but I couldn't sleep. It seemed that all of my fears had come down on me at once. I had reached a saturation point. I got out of bed and began to walk the floor. Finally I went to the kitchen and heated a pot of coffee. I was ready to give up. With my cup of coffee sitting untouched before me I tried to think of a way to move out of the picture without appearing a coward.

"In this state of exhaustion, when my courage had all but gone, I decided to take my problem to God. With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud. The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory:

'I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they, too, will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I've come to the point where I can't face it alone.'

"At that moment I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced him before."

Parallel to Jesus

The parallel to Jesus in Gethsemane is so obvious that it's superfluous to elaborate on it. God sends angels to strengthen us precisely when God finds us lying prostrate, sweating the blood of duty. Moreover, that particular kind of sweat does something else for us as well.

In the Gethsemane accounts we're told that, right after being strengthened by an angel, Jesus gets up off the ground and walks with courage to face the ordeal that awaits him. His agony, and the strengthening he receives within it, readied him for the pain that lay ahead.

Agony prepares us

Indeed, at the time of Jesus, the word "agony" had a double sense. Beyond its more obvious meaning, it also referred to a particular readying that an athlete would do just before entering the arena or stadium.

An athlete would ready himself (in those days the athlete normally was a he) for the contest by working up a certain sweat (agony) with the idea that this exercise and the lather it produced would concentrate and ready both his energies and muscles for the rigors that lay ahead. No athlete wants to enter the contest unprepared, not ready.

The Gospel writers want us to have this same image of Jesus as he leaves the Garden of Gethsemane. His agony has brought about a certain emotional, physical, and spiritual lather so that he is now readied, a focused athlete, properly prepared to enter the battle. Moreover, because his strengthening brings a certain divine energy, he is indeed more ready than any athlete.

Spiritual battle

Christina Crawford, writing about a low time in her life, once commented: "Lost is a place, too!" Indeed, biblically, it's a very important place. It's the place where angels can come and minister to us and it's the place that readies us for spiritual battle.

When our own strength gives out, when the pain of duty seems too much, when we lie prostrate in weakness and cringe before what truth, justice, and God seem to be asking of us, when we've come to the point where, like Martin Luther King, Jr., we can no longer face it alone, we're finally at that place where angels can minister to us and we've finally worked up the spiritual lather that has readied our souls and bodies for the Good Fridays that await us all.

Certain things, Trevor Herriot suggests, can happen only in gardens and deserts: "How long, covered in the sackcloth of grass, thorn, and sky, before our desires and illusions fall to intimations of communion; before edges dissolve and we comprehend the mystic's dream of union beyond all boundaries and distinctions?"

Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser is a theologian, teacher, and award-winning author of several books on spirituality. He currently serves in Toronto and Rome as the general councilor for Canada for his religious order, the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate.

Faithful family: Finding inspiration in memories

		Grand Mom  Audrey  Mettel Fixmer

When Andy Koehler heard that his dad, the late Ralph Koehler, had been part of the Marine Raiders Division during World War II, he was fascinated. His dad had died of a heart attack in 1982, when Andy was just a teenager, so he had not heard his war stories.

He was eager to hear more, so he responded to a family invitation to attend a reunion of the old Marines. With the hearty welcome he received he vowed to return to another reunion, this time with his five brothers, Danny, Joe, Bill, Jerry, and Jim. So last fall the old Marines gave the boys a hearty welcome and labeled them the "Koehler Six Pack."

Courageous division

The Koehler boys had a double connection to the Raiders. Not only their dad, but their Uncle Paul as well, had served in that courageous division. It was the friendship between the two young Marines that brought about the marriage of their parents.

When Paul was killed on Okinawa, Ralph lost his best buddy and swore he would get in touch with the Tousignant family as soon as he could.

In a carefully preserved letter dated April 10, 1947, the boys read that letter today. Written by their dad from the Veteran's Hospital where he was recovering from the war, Ralph describes the courage, humor, and the death of his friend. It ends "I want to express my sincere sympathy, and if Paul is looking down this way tonight, he will see the salute I'm sending him."

The Tousignants, like the Koehlers, were a very large Catholic family. They lived in Gwinn, Mich., where they raised 14 children, while the Koehlers lived in Kansas with their 12 children.

When "Ma Tousignant" received the letter from Ralph, she was touched and began a correspondence with Ralph. The more she heard from him, the more she became fond of him. She wanted to meet Ralph, so she invited him to visit her family at Christmas time.

Love story

When Ralph agreed, Ma wrote to her daughter Harriet, who was working for the U.S. Government in Arlington, Va., suggesting she meet Ralph in Chicago and bring him home for the last lap of his journey to Gwinn. The two young people exchanged photographs so they would recognize one another when they met in Union Station.

As a joke, Harriet sent Ralph her photo in a bathing suit on the beach where she lived in Arlington, but Ralph outdid her. He sent one of himself in a garbage can on Guadalcanal. Their kids cherish these photos today.

After the holiday, "Ma" suggested that Harriet continue writing to Ralph because she was too busy with other letter writing obligations. Harriet says that she always suspected Ma was afraid she would never find a good Catholic boy and settle down.

Incredible strength

Well, it worked. Ralph and Harriet fell in love and were married. They had 11 children and my husband and I were privileged to become their friends when we moved to Fort Atkinson. Harriet and I swapped maternity clothes, recipes, and tips on child rearing.

They were part of our Christian Family Movement group that discussed critical issues such as how to keep our sanity while trying to make the Rhythm Method work.

The Koehler family was known for their strict discipline, their great sense of humor, and their incredible strength in handling adversities. Harriet was the one we mothers all turned to for advice on everything from how to can peaches to where to find a good plumber and we always got a wise answer as well as a good laugh or two. Ralph was the authority on car repairs, heating problems, and the best buy on a case of beer.

Their daughter Cathy died the year I had her in my seventh grade English class. She was a beautiful child whose death shook St. Joseph School to the core. It was our first acquaintance with lymphoma and God's right to take our children as swiftly as He gives them.

Honoring memory

Ralph was unable to work as a mechanic after a near fatal car accident. That's when he and Harriet opened a home for disabled adults in the community. A few years later Ralph was working on that home when he dropped dead from a heart attack. Harriet still had three children at home, but she went to work selling real estate in addition to operating the group home alone.

I was touched by the story of those six Koehler boys who have found inspiration and comfort in their dad's Marine division.

In their eight years at St. Joseph School the Koehler kids learned their 10 commandments well, especially the fourth commandment. They learned that "honor your father and mother" means more than obeying them when you're young. It also means honoring their memory long after their deaths. I like that idea.

"Grandmom" likes hearing from other senior citizens who enjoy aging at P.O. Box 216, Fort Atkinson, WI 53538.

Review Board:
Step toward authentic Catholic reform

		The Catholic  Difference  George Weigel

When attorney Robert Bennett asked me to testify before the "causes and context" committee of the U.S. bishops' National Review Board (NRB), I told him that, once the tape recorders were turned on, the first thing I'd say was that I didn't think the NRB made much ecclesiological sense - but since it had been commissioned by the bishops, I believed it my duty to cooperate with their work.

I'm happy to say now that, in my judgment, the NRB report released on Feb. 27 is a genuine service to the church and a potentially crucial step toward authentic Catholic reform. Why?

Catholic reform

1) Because the report is set within a genuinely Catholic and thoroughly ecclesial framework. The report makes clear that the church, by the will of Christ, is led by her bishops; that the priest is far more than an ecclesiastical functionary; that celibacy is a great gift to the Church; that Catholic doctrine didn't cause the problems the report addresses, but rather the failure to teach and live the truths of Catholic faith; and that what the Church needs is authentically Catholic reform.

2) Because the report squarely faces the two dimensions of the crisis - i.e., sexual misconduct and episcopal misgovernance - and suggests that both aspects of the crisis are reflections of a deeper crisis of fidelity and spirituality.

3) Because the report, rather than calling for "power-sharing," calls for evangelically and pastorally assertive episcopal leadership, including far more fraternal challenge and correction within the body of bishops.

4) Because the report faces the overwhelmingly homosexual nature of the clerical sexual abuse of minors over the past 50 years, without either euphemism or "scapegoating."

5) Because the report frankly describes the failures of seminaries in the late '60s and '70s, stressing lapses in spiritual and ascetic formation, and thus sets the stage for accelerating the seminary reform already underway.

6) Because the report decries the many occasions on which psychiatric and psychological categories and processes trumped theological categories and available canonical remedies in handling clerical malfeasants.

7) Because the report delicately suggests that "zero tolerance" is too blunt an instrument to be an instrument of genuine justice.

8) Because the report warns against encroachments by the state into internal church governance, while also warning that those encroachments can and will happen if bishops abrogate their responsibilities.

9) Because the report demonstrates that lay people can take on a task of great complexity and delicacy in the church and do it in such a way that, for all its (legitimate) criticism of the hierarchy, reasserts the divinely-ordered structure of the church and calls the episcopate to exercise its legitimate authority. In this way, the report implicitly challenges Voice of the Faithful and similar organizations by showing that a diverse group of accomplished lay Catholics can agree on an analysis of the crisis and an agenda of reform that is authentically Catholic, not an exercise in Catholic Lite.

There are particular recommendations in the report with which reasonable people can disagree - and I do. But at this point in time, it's much more important to concentrate on the many, many things the NRB got right than to focus immediately on this or that recommendation which may or may not be imprudent or inappropriate or in fact inapplicable.

Board didn't follow media script

And it wasn't just the report itself that was impressive; so was the way the members of the board handled their press conference on Feb. 27.

Illinois Judge Anne Burke, the interim chairman, began the proceedings with a tribute to bishops and priests. Bob Bennett was thrown a raw-meat question by a CBS reporter who asked why, if the board was so critical of the stewardship of some bishops, it didn't call for their ouster; to which Bennett replied that that wasn't the board's job or the laity's job - that was a judgment for the bishops themselves and for the Holy See.

The National Review Board, created in part to appease an out-of-control media, declined to follow the media script. Rather than proposing a dismantling of Catholic belief, structure, and practice, it produced a report which persuasively argues that the answer to a crisis of Catholic fidelity is - Catholic fidelity. We're in their debt.

George Weigel is a senior fellow of the Ethics and Public Policy Center in Washington, D.C.