The Snare of the Fowler

Psalm 91

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High,
    who abides in the shadow of the Almighty,
² will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress;
    my God, in whom I trust.”
³ For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler
    and from the deadly pestilence;
⁴ he will cover you with his pinions,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
⁵ You will not fear the terror of the night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
⁶ nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
    nor the destruction that wastes at noonday

For me, one of the highlights of the annual photo retreat  at the local monastery is always the opportunity to go back into the cloister.  I don’t usually take any pictures, and this time I took only a few—but I love being in the silence and the confines.  There is something settling about it. 

I am particularly drawn to the graveyard; I hope it doesn’t say something morbid about me.  I like the fact that the men there are listed on the website as the Triumphants.  We Christians talk about victory over death, but too often we don’t act like we believe it.  The monks are much better at this than I am.  

Last year, the retreat coincided with the death of Fr. Malachy, whom I had met and liked very much.  It was a surprise to me when prayers were offered for the repose of his soul at the first vespers for I had no idea he had died.  It was a blessing to be among the brothers as I assimilated the fact of his death and listened to the community, in the usual order of monastic life, share their memories and prayers for his soul.

This image was taken standing in the grass by the graves of the Triumphants (and, as it turns out, in a nest of fire ants; one must suffer for art’s sake).  I was taken by the image of the steeple through the rafters of the porch roof; one of the presentations that weekend emphasized geometery in photography.  

In the image, it appears that the steeple is trapped in a steel net, much like the net of the falconer referred to in the psalms.   A falconer captures his bird by pegging out some attractive prey, a squirrel or rabbit perhaps, and then lying in wait for the bird, as is his nature, to swoop down.  The falconer then throws a heavy net over the bird to prevent escape so that the bird can be fettered, confined, tamed in some measure, and made to do the bidding of the falconer.

It evokes to me the current state of things in American political life, where threats to religious liberty abound, particularly if one is Catholic.  Modern secular society seeks to trap and limit the Church, taming her and keeping her from sanctifying a culture much in need of salvation. 

Certainly things look pretty bleak for Catholic witness these days: proclaim the Gospel truth and one is likely to be attacked for hate speech.  The Church, in doing what she does so well, what is her nature—feeding the poor, clothing the naked, finding homes for the widow and orphan—has taken society’s bait and modern American is throwing a net of restriction over her in hopes of  forcing her to submit to society’s conventions—or, if not, in an effort to fetter her and remove her from having any effect in the world, or destroy her altogether.  The image of the steeple behind the beams is the image of the Church confined.

But the image is deceiving.  The steeple looks confined only from the perspective of the graveyard grass, and then only when I bent and contorted my position a bit to set the image.  The reality is that the steeple soars above the porch and any impression of confinement is an artifact of perspective. 

Christ told us that when He was lifted up, God would be glorified and He would draw the world to him.  It’s worth remembering that His being lifted up looked a lot like the triumph of the world: nailed to a cross, unable even to move,  and crucified, from the perspective of the world captured, killed and eliminated.

Yet we know that it was Christ, not the world, who was triumphant and that the net of the fowler had no real power over Him.  Nor, because we are part of His body, does it have power over us.  In spite of how things look here on the ground, from the perspective of the Eternal, the Church, like Christ, like the steeple in this picture, is lifted up and draws all.  The snare is an illusion, only an illusion.