A lot of churches have been trying to be
what they call “seeker-sensitive.”
They will advertise “come as you are” services;
They’ll have fancy coffee available and comfortable seats;
the pastor will dress casual.
While some of that sounds strange to us,
we did just hire someone to market our school and our parishes!
There are valid lessons to be learned.
That said, we might wonder:
What would a marketing guru say about today’s readings?
She might say, “Paul, I wish you hadn’t said that about wives!”
Now, what Paul is saying is a “hard teaching”—
but in a way very different from what I think most people hear.
It’s not power Paul is talking about; you did not hear Paul say,
“Husbands, dominate your wives”—
No, Paul said, love them—as Christ does the Church.
In other words, die for them. Surrender for them.
That surrender cannot be one-way—
not women to men; not men to women.
Paul said: “be subordinate to one another
out of reverence for Christ.”
We’re not husband-and-wife, but as your pastor,
I’ve got a long way to go in learning that lesson in relation to you.
I apologize for my failures in humility and patience
and subordinating myself to you,
and I thank you for your patience with my weaknesses.
As I said—this is a harder teaching
than we may have realized at first;
Because that surrender isn’t one way—but mutual.
And words like surrender or obedience
do not usually sit well on our tongues.
Telling people that that’s what it means
to be a Christian—a Catholic—is not easy:
You don’t just show up once a week,
you don’t just put in an envelope, or follow certain rules,
or bring your kids for certain things;
no, being a Catholic is a total way of life;
it changes everything in our lives;
we make a total gift of ourselves to God and to Body of Christ!
That’s a hard teaching—but it’s who we are.
There is no other message we can give and be faithful to Christ.
But we invite people to follow Christ, not because it’s easy,
but because, as Peter says, where else can we go?
Next Monday, we start having RCIA
for those who want to be joined to Christ in the Catholic Church.
Next week, we have signups for Sunday Religious Education
for our children to follow Christ better.
Ask me about either or both after Mass.
When our Lord explained—as we heard over the past few weeks—
About the Eucharist being his real and true Body and Blood,
And that we need the Eucharist to have his life in us.
That was a hard teaching—they didn’t all accept it.
What he will reveal later is how this connects to the Cross:
The Cross is the Sacrifice of himself—
and we share in that Sacrifice—
we eat his Flesh and Blood—
through the Mass and the Eucharist.
And the connection to what Paul said is clear:
What Paul asks of husbands and wives,
Is what Jesus asks of us, in his role
as Bridegroom to his Bride, the Church.
He, for his part, goes first: he dies for us and all his life
and grace flows out of him, and into us!
And to make that more real, more meaningful for us,
We have the Mass and the Eucharist—
not just one time, but Sunday after Sunday.
Wives and husbands—it might work to tell each other,
or show each other, you love each other,
just one time and that’s enough.
But my guess is that it’s not enough;
you need to say and do it again and again.
That’s what Sunday Mass is for Christ and his Bride—that is, us.
That’s why skipping Sunday Mass is a mortal sin
if there’s not a good reason.
That’s why it is right that the Mass
calls for the very best we can offer.
Absolutely we put Mass first on our list of priorities—
And that’s why we have rules and boundaries
about how the Mass is carried out.
It’s both joyful but also serious business;
The Mass is a mystery we don’t even begin to understand,
and I include me and every priest in saying that.
The same advice Paul gave to couples applies here:
It’s not about power, it’s about dying to self.
As I said, I know I need to learn that lesson better, as do we all.
The thing is, we’re going to rip ourselves apart
over views on the liturgy
if we aren’t prepared to die to self,
and that includes our own likes and dislikes,
and instead realize that it’s all our task
to carry out the sacred liturgy,
but the pope and bishops,
and, yes, pastors—have a particular role to play.
Can we agree to subordinate ourselves to one another
as we submit ourselves to Christ?
The Good News is, this dying to self doesn’t lead to death—
but to new life.
That conversion—that transformation we experience—
is never pain-free,
but it is the most powerful thing that happens to us.
In a friendship; in a marriage; in a family; in a parish;
in our union with Christ!
In the Mass, at the climax, Christ dies—
pours himself out on the Cross—and on this altar.
Everything he is, God, man, soul, body and blood—
all his life and grace!—is poured out for us!
If we are truly ready, ready to do the same,
we come forward and take his Flesh and Blood on our lips,
united with him, one flesh.
What the Lord asks of us is so hard; and yet we say with Peter:
“to whom shall we go? You have the words of everlasting life!”
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Notes on Romans 1-2
(These are my notes for my Wednesday night Bible Study--we looked at Chapter 1 last week, this week, Chapter 2...)
After his introductory comments, Paul launches upon an extended argument that will take up most of his letter. The progression of his argument is something like a standard Evangelistic sermon: humanity is lost; only God can save us; God has saved us by coming as Christ and dying for us; we must place faith in Christ and change our lives.
Let’s skip down to where Paul begins this argument—around verse 16 of the first chapter. Notice he refers to salvation in Christ, “for the Jew first, and then Greek.” Then he proceeds to speak about Gentiles; chapter one talks about the sin of idolatry and the immorality that accompanies it.
One of the questions one might ask is why make this link?
Well, two thoughts come to mind.
First: a lot of pagan worship in Paul’s time included immoral behavior: temple prostitution, for example, as well as the bawdy plays that told the story of the gods and goddesses, such as St. Augustine described in City of God. And the thing is, the stories of the deities of Rome and Greece included a lot of immorality: greed, lust, ambition, treachery, murder, deceit, rape, sexual perversion—you name it, you’ll find it in the stories of the pagan deities.
Because Biblical religion definitely ties moral conduct to religion—such that the prophets argued that without just and moral conduct, any religious observance is worthless, even offensive to God—we are surprised to discover pagan religion was not necessarily about morality!
Pagan religion was often about politics—i.e., you paid tribute to the god or goddess of a particular city or nation, or to the emperor, as a sign of loyalty. Pagan religion was also about appeasing the gods—paying your dues so they left you alone or so that fate didn’t fall too heavily upon you. Notice: many people still think of their religious practice that way; if something bad happens, they think it’s because God is mad at them.
There were also “mysteries” in pagan religion, which might bring you enlightenment or even some sort of union with the divine—but many such “mystery” religions came from the East, and were distrusted by the Romans and Greeks of the West. The thing is, moral behavior was not necessarily a requirement or component of all pagan religions—instead, it was part of philosophy: i.e., the Stoics.
The second thing is that turning from God to worship created things is a turning from light to darkness—so it makes sense to say that idolatry will lead to other immorality. This is the point Paul is explicitly making, although he cannot have missed what we just described.
One of the points we should note in passing; not to hammer the point but to respond to certain contemporary claims: there is no reasonable way to read Paul’s words as allowing for homosexual conduct as moral or an alternative to heterosexual congress. There have been active efforts to soften this aspect of Christian morality; and many fancy arguments are spun to show that Paul didn’t really mean what he seems to mean. But such arguments are extremely tendentious—that is to say, they badly twist the text in service of an agenda. Paul’s words are not obscure, they are clear in condemning homosexual activity.
Now, let’s also say that Paul doesn’t go on and on about it; it is one of many sins he condemns, and he makes clear that whether one is engaged in sexual perversion, or idolatry, or adultery, or self-righteous condemnation of others, or many other garden-variety sins we all plead guilty to, without Christ one faces the “wrath of God.” So while we object to distortions of Scripture in service of validating homosexual behavior, we must also object to overemphasizing this particular sin.
Next (i.e., in chapter 2), Paul now turns to the Jewish contingent he is addressing. In short, he says, “so you think you’re better than those filthy Gentiles? Not so!” The climax of this argument is the same that the Old Testament prophets made: the circumcision that really counts is inward, not outward. Such a person is, in Paul’s words, the “true Jew.”
We might recall that in studying the Gospel of Matthew, we saw that our Lord was neither embracing a restrictive Jewish identity—he wasn’t bashing Gentiles—nor was he hostile to Judaism; he was calling for a renewed Israel. He appealed to his fellow Jews to join him, to recognize him as the Messiah; he is both a son of Israel and also Israel’s Maker; and he prepares the Apostles to be the 12 patriarchs of the Renewed Israel.
Here we see Paul pursuing a similar line of thought—and we might keep this in mind for later parts of this Letter, where Paul will talk about Abraham, and works of the Law, and righteousness, and the Vine of Israel.
We might wonder—in all of Paul’s travels and reflection, how much he must have pondered this. How could have not have? A Pharisee of Pharisees, he calls himself; a zealous defender of Pharisaic Judaism against the Christians, until he is pulled short by Christ himself on the Damascus Road. He had so much to think about as he went on to Damascus—blinded by the light—and then awaiting the arrival of Ananias to explain what happened, and baptize him. How could he not have continued to turn this over in his mind, especially when he took the Gospel to his fellow Jews, and many rejected his message?
After his introductory comments, Paul launches upon an extended argument that will take up most of his letter. The progression of his argument is something like a standard Evangelistic sermon: humanity is lost; only God can save us; God has saved us by coming as Christ and dying for us; we must place faith in Christ and change our lives.
Let’s skip down to where Paul begins this argument—around verse 16 of the first chapter. Notice he refers to salvation in Christ, “for the Jew first, and then Greek.” Then he proceeds to speak about Gentiles; chapter one talks about the sin of idolatry and the immorality that accompanies it.
One of the questions one might ask is why make this link?
Well, two thoughts come to mind.
First: a lot of pagan worship in Paul’s time included immoral behavior: temple prostitution, for example, as well as the bawdy plays that told the story of the gods and goddesses, such as St. Augustine described in City of God. And the thing is, the stories of the deities of Rome and Greece included a lot of immorality: greed, lust, ambition, treachery, murder, deceit, rape, sexual perversion—you name it, you’ll find it in the stories of the pagan deities.
Because Biblical religion definitely ties moral conduct to religion—such that the prophets argued that without just and moral conduct, any religious observance is worthless, even offensive to God—we are surprised to discover pagan religion was not necessarily about morality!
Pagan religion was often about politics—i.e., you paid tribute to the god or goddess of a particular city or nation, or to the emperor, as a sign of loyalty. Pagan religion was also about appeasing the gods—paying your dues so they left you alone or so that fate didn’t fall too heavily upon you. Notice: many people still think of their religious practice that way; if something bad happens, they think it’s because God is mad at them.
There were also “mysteries” in pagan religion, which might bring you enlightenment or even some sort of union with the divine—but many such “mystery” religions came from the East, and were distrusted by the Romans and Greeks of the West. The thing is, moral behavior was not necessarily a requirement or component of all pagan religions—instead, it was part of philosophy: i.e., the Stoics.
The second thing is that turning from God to worship created things is a turning from light to darkness—so it makes sense to say that idolatry will lead to other immorality. This is the point Paul is explicitly making, although he cannot have missed what we just described.
One of the points we should note in passing; not to hammer the point but to respond to certain contemporary claims: there is no reasonable way to read Paul’s words as allowing for homosexual conduct as moral or an alternative to heterosexual congress. There have been active efforts to soften this aspect of Christian morality; and many fancy arguments are spun to show that Paul didn’t really mean what he seems to mean. But such arguments are extremely tendentious—that is to say, they badly twist the text in service of an agenda. Paul’s words are not obscure, they are clear in condemning homosexual activity.
Now, let’s also say that Paul doesn’t go on and on about it; it is one of many sins he condemns, and he makes clear that whether one is engaged in sexual perversion, or idolatry, or adultery, or self-righteous condemnation of others, or many other garden-variety sins we all plead guilty to, without Christ one faces the “wrath of God.” So while we object to distortions of Scripture in service of validating homosexual behavior, we must also object to overemphasizing this particular sin.
Next (i.e., in chapter 2), Paul now turns to the Jewish contingent he is addressing. In short, he says, “so you think you’re better than those filthy Gentiles? Not so!” The climax of this argument is the same that the Old Testament prophets made: the circumcision that really counts is inward, not outward. Such a person is, in Paul’s words, the “true Jew.”
We might recall that in studying the Gospel of Matthew, we saw that our Lord was neither embracing a restrictive Jewish identity—he wasn’t bashing Gentiles—nor was he hostile to Judaism; he was calling for a renewed Israel. He appealed to his fellow Jews to join him, to recognize him as the Messiah; he is both a son of Israel and also Israel’s Maker; and he prepares the Apostles to be the 12 patriarchs of the Renewed Israel.
Here we see Paul pursuing a similar line of thought—and we might keep this in mind for later parts of this Letter, where Paul will talk about Abraham, and works of the Law, and righteousness, and the Vine of Israel.
We might wonder—in all of Paul’s travels and reflection, how much he must have pondered this. How could have not have? A Pharisee of Pharisees, he calls himself; a zealous defender of Pharisaic Judaism against the Christians, until he is pulled short by Christ himself on the Damascus Road. He had so much to think about as he went on to Damascus—blinded by the light—and then awaiting the arrival of Ananias to explain what happened, and baptize him. How could he not have continued to turn this over in his mind, especially when he took the Gospel to his fellow Jews, and many rejected his message?
Monday, August 17, 2009
The How and Why of the Eucharist (Sunday homily)
This is my recollection of what I tried to say Sunday; I didn't have notes, just some ideas in my head I tried to develop. I did it twice, not exactly the same way each time...
1. In hearing the Lord's words about the Eucharist, we might ask two questions: how and why? The people who heard him asked the "how" question; we might add, "why"?
2. Why did God do this? If God had wanted to send a message to us, he'd already done that, through Abraham, the prophets, Moses...but clearly that wasn't enough. God's desire was to come and be with us; but not just for a visit--but to stay. And even that would have been enough, but God wanted something even more wonderful: that we have union with God.
3. Union with God! What can that mean?
4. We are a combination of body and spirit that we ourselves don't fully understand, but we only know ourselves and everything else, through that reality. So in becoming one with us, God chose to take to himself a body, and to have union with us, not just on a spiritual level, but physical as well!
5. Union with God! Suppose I called on some of you, and asked to you explain that? I can see by your faces you are not eager to do so! Who can explain this? All our attempts to describe this fall short. But one of the images we have, that comes from Scripture and the Lord, is the marital embrace; Jesus calls himself the Bridegroom and the Church, the bride. A man and a woman become one flesh.
6. At the cross, our Lord said, "it is finished." When translated from Greek to Latin, it was translated, "consummatum est"--it is consummated. That is an unusual word, which is used to describe a special moment between a husband and wife. One flesh. That means the Cross is the consummation of the marriage of God and humanity.
7. Wonderful! But so far we are simply specators; how do we share in that? That is what the Eucharist is. That is what the Mass is. The Eucharist unites us with two things our Lord did--the Last Supper, when they ate and drank; but there was no sacrifice; then, on Good Friday, there was the Sacrifice, but they didn't eat and drink. Only in the Mass are these two realities experienced together as one. The Mass and the Eucharist is how we become participants--one Flesh--with the Lord.
8. This is as good a time as any to talk about how we receive the Eucharist. We can receive on the tongue, which is the long-time traditional way, the universal norm of the Church, or on the hand which was allowed more recently as an option. There is something very humble and submissive in being fed on the tongue; as children, we can't wait to say, "I'll do it myself!"; so for us to be fed the Eucharist is a very humbling thing to do. If we receive in the hand, one thing we do is to make a throne of our hands (demonstrating by holding hands up high)--and I would suggest that, for a couple of reasons, this (hands high) is better than this (hands low). It's practical--I'm tall, and leaning way down for those who aren't isn't so easy!--but also symbolizing what we believe: doesn't this (held high) seem more like a throne? When Father Tom, Father Ang, and I, carried the Eucharist through Piqua, how did we do it?
9. Also, I have to say it's puzzling that sometimes people are chewing gum a few minutes before receiving the Lord; that seems an odd way to prepare to receive the Body and Blood of the Lord. We have an hour's fast, which isn't very hard; it used to be 3 hours, or all night. The idea is that some physical hunger teaches us spiritual hunger. We don't have to fast longer than one hour, but if we chose to do so, it might help us.
10. Many of you know what I'm talking about with that spiritual hunger. You may not have always been Catholic, or like me, you had a time away from the Church. As many of you know, when I was 19, I left the Church, joined another Christian church, and it was 10 years before I came back. It was hunger for the Eucharist, in part, that brought me back. I will never forget coming back to confession and the Eucharist after 10 years! And many of you know what I'm talking about. That hunger for the Eucharist is often what brings people to want to become Catholic, or to return to the Church.
11. And sometimes, I am sorry to see hands presented that aren't clean. No, I don't mean the marks of hard work; but just...not cleaned. We want to present clean hands and a clean heart to receive the Lord.
12. I do marvel at the mystery of how some--when you have a baby in your arms--how you manage to have one hand come out, somewhere, somehow! I don't know how you do that! But it is hard to receive the Eucharist that way, so don't be surprised if I help your cause by simply placing the Eucharist on your tongue; holding Junior can be hard enough!
13. As I said, we struggle to describe this awesome Gift of the union with God through his Body and Blood. We've tried for 2,000 years, in poetry and theology and song, to express it. Words fail us--they fail me! In the end, we are overwhelmed by this, and our only response--to God choosing to become one of us, and to give his Body and Blood to us to become one with us--our only response is silence.
1. In hearing the Lord's words about the Eucharist, we might ask two questions: how and why? The people who heard him asked the "how" question; we might add, "why"?
2. Why did God do this? If God had wanted to send a message to us, he'd already done that, through Abraham, the prophets, Moses...but clearly that wasn't enough. God's desire was to come and be with us; but not just for a visit--but to stay. And even that would have been enough, but God wanted something even more wonderful: that we have union with God.
3. Union with God! What can that mean?
4. We are a combination of body and spirit that we ourselves don't fully understand, but we only know ourselves and everything else, through that reality. So in becoming one with us, God chose to take to himself a body, and to have union with us, not just on a spiritual level, but physical as well!
5. Union with God! Suppose I called on some of you, and asked to you explain that? I can see by your faces you are not eager to do so! Who can explain this? All our attempts to describe this fall short. But one of the images we have, that comes from Scripture and the Lord, is the marital embrace; Jesus calls himself the Bridegroom and the Church, the bride. A man and a woman become one flesh.
6. At the cross, our Lord said, "it is finished." When translated from Greek to Latin, it was translated, "consummatum est"--it is consummated. That is an unusual word, which is used to describe a special moment between a husband and wife. One flesh. That means the Cross is the consummation of the marriage of God and humanity.
7. Wonderful! But so far we are simply specators; how do we share in that? That is what the Eucharist is. That is what the Mass is. The Eucharist unites us with two things our Lord did--the Last Supper, when they ate and drank; but there was no sacrifice; then, on Good Friday, there was the Sacrifice, but they didn't eat and drink. Only in the Mass are these two realities experienced together as one. The Mass and the Eucharist is how we become participants--one Flesh--with the Lord.
8. This is as good a time as any to talk about how we receive the Eucharist. We can receive on the tongue, which is the long-time traditional way, the universal norm of the Church, or on the hand which was allowed more recently as an option. There is something very humble and submissive in being fed on the tongue; as children, we can't wait to say, "I'll do it myself!"; so for us to be fed the Eucharist is a very humbling thing to do. If we receive in the hand, one thing we do is to make a throne of our hands (demonstrating by holding hands up high)--and I would suggest that, for a couple of reasons, this (hands high) is better than this (hands low). It's practical--I'm tall, and leaning way down for those who aren't isn't so easy!--but also symbolizing what we believe: doesn't this (held high) seem more like a throne? When Father Tom, Father Ang, and I, carried the Eucharist through Piqua, how did we do it?
9. Also, I have to say it's puzzling that sometimes people are chewing gum a few minutes before receiving the Lord; that seems an odd way to prepare to receive the Body and Blood of the Lord. We have an hour's fast, which isn't very hard; it used to be 3 hours, or all night. The idea is that some physical hunger teaches us spiritual hunger. We don't have to fast longer than one hour, but if we chose to do so, it might help us.
10. Many of you know what I'm talking about with that spiritual hunger. You may not have always been Catholic, or like me, you had a time away from the Church. As many of you know, when I was 19, I left the Church, joined another Christian church, and it was 10 years before I came back. It was hunger for the Eucharist, in part, that brought me back. I will never forget coming back to confession and the Eucharist after 10 years! And many of you know what I'm talking about. That hunger for the Eucharist is often what brings people to want to become Catholic, or to return to the Church.
11. And sometimes, I am sorry to see hands presented that aren't clean. No, I don't mean the marks of hard work; but just...not cleaned. We want to present clean hands and a clean heart to receive the Lord.
12. I do marvel at the mystery of how some--when you have a baby in your arms--how you manage to have one hand come out, somewhere, somehow! I don't know how you do that! But it is hard to receive the Eucharist that way, so don't be surprised if I help your cause by simply placing the Eucharist on your tongue; holding Junior can be hard enough!
13. As I said, we struggle to describe this awesome Gift of the union with God through his Body and Blood. We've tried for 2,000 years, in poetry and theology and song, to express it. Words fail us--they fail me! In the end, we are overwhelmed by this, and our only response--to God choosing to become one of us, and to give his Body and Blood to us to become one with us--our only response is silence.
What the Assumption means for us (Assumption homily)
(These are my notes, not necessarily my exact words...)
1. What we believe: Mary, at the end of her life on earth, was taken up, body and soul, into heaven.
2. Notice the importance of the body. Our body is not just a shell we leave behind, but part of who we are; if we go to heaven, while there we will await the resurrection of our bodies. This is why some things are sinful--because our body is part of our salvation (or damnation).
3. Mary is the ark of the new covenant; the ark in the Old Testament held the tablets of the law and the manna, and it was precious and God punished those who dishonored it; how much more Mary, who held the Word made flesh and the Bread of Heaven! Thus God was not willing to have her body undergo corruption. This was gratitude from a grateful Son to his mother, along with being conceived without sin. It was important to God that she be adorned with grace and beauty; and we feel the same, for example, when we depict Mary in artwork; we don't show her in drab or work clothes!
What Mary was in the incarnation, our church is now: the ark of the new covenant! So it is appropriate that, within our means, we make our church beautiful, and many generations have done so. It is fitting that our worship of God not only be about "doing the minimum," but also be about beauty.
4. We do the same with our own lives: that we will be arks of the new covenant, bearing Christ in our lives. What Mary is, God wants us to be; where Mary is now, we are meant to be. The Sacraments are how we do that.
(Sorry, I simply don't recall how I ended this homily--there ends my notes...)
1. What we believe: Mary, at the end of her life on earth, was taken up, body and soul, into heaven.
2. Notice the importance of the body. Our body is not just a shell we leave behind, but part of who we are; if we go to heaven, while there we will await the resurrection of our bodies. This is why some things are sinful--because our body is part of our salvation (or damnation).
3. Mary is the ark of the new covenant; the ark in the Old Testament held the tablets of the law and the manna, and it was precious and God punished those who dishonored it; how much more Mary, who held the Word made flesh and the Bread of Heaven! Thus God was not willing to have her body undergo corruption. This was gratitude from a grateful Son to his mother, along with being conceived without sin. It was important to God that she be adorned with grace and beauty; and we feel the same, for example, when we depict Mary in artwork; we don't show her in drab or work clothes!
What Mary was in the incarnation, our church is now: the ark of the new covenant! So it is appropriate that, within our means, we make our church beautiful, and many generations have done so. It is fitting that our worship of God not only be about "doing the minimum," but also be about beauty.
4. We do the same with our own lives: that we will be arks of the new covenant, bearing Christ in our lives. What Mary is, God wants us to be; where Mary is now, we are meant to be. The Sacraments are how we do that.
(Sorry, I simply don't recall how I ended this homily--there ends my notes...)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
What will you hear tonight?
If you go to the Mass this afternoon or evening at your parish, what readings, prayers, topics and music will you hear?
Will it be:
Mass for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary?
Or will it be an anticipatory Mass for Sunday?
In Piqua, it will be the Mass of the Assumption. Why?
Well, the Church assigns different solemnities and feasts different ranks. And there is no question that the Solemnity of the Assumption is a higher rank than the Solemnity of the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Ergo, the Assumption--in my reading of the rubrics--takes precedence all day today. Tomorrow, however, is Sunday, and that's when the prayers for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time kick in.
Why is there any question?
Well, almost all pastors, and those who assist them, rely on a booklet called the "Ordo," which is designed to gather in one place all the various bits of information one needs all year long about such things. Liturgical books don't always have the newest saints and blesseds added to the church's calendar, for example. The Ordo is very handy in that regard.
However, it was ambiguous regarding this question--it simply didn't say explicitly what I said. Nor did it say the opposite. If you read it closely, however, it says that Second Vespers (i.e., Evening Prayer II) for tonight is for the Assumption, not for Sunday, as it otherwise would be. That confirms what I said.
If pastors don't all do what I'm describing, why wouldn't they?
Well, this happens infrequently, and one tends to forget how it was the last time, say five or six years prior. Also, it will be confusing for readers and musicians, so it is easier to treat the Saturday evening and Sunday Masses the same. Also, the bishops caused some confusion when they created the rule that sometimes a holy day of obligation is not obligatory. I.e., Assumption isn't obligatory when it falls on Saturday or Monday--the rationale being that it's taxing if there are too few priests as there are in many places. I wish the bishops had decided that otherwise. To the minds of many, including, I think, many priests, "not an obligatory holy day" equals saying it's not a solemnity of the highest rank; but this is simply not so.
What about the Sunday obligation?
In my judgment, the Sunday obligation is fulfilled when one goes to the Saturday evening Mass, whether it's for Assumption or anticipatory for the next day. This is the case every time an obligatory day falls on a Saturday--if Christmas falls on Saturday, and Saturday evening Mass must be for Christmas, but it "counts" for either Christmas (that day) or for Sunday, the next day. No double-dipping.
If there are two obligatory days back-to-back, one is obliged to take part in divine worship twice at Mass, sometime between the vigil of the prior obligatory day, through the evening of the second obligatory day--i.e., over three calendar days. Since Assumption isn't an obligatory day, then there's no difficulty about "applying" it to Sunday.
I realize some will say, why isn't it simpler?
First, because when you have any sort of law that obliges people, you have to spell out the details so people know how the law applies.
Second, some of the complexity comes in providing exceptions and accommodations, which is because all these things really are for the benefit of the human beings involved--so accommodating people's weaknesses or work schedules and so forth is a good thing to do, to whatever degree seems reasonable.
Some will say, the Church shouldn't have "laws," but come on--do you have "laws" (you likely call them "rules") in your home? Your workplace? In organizations? Does our society operate without laws? So why expect the society and family we call the Church not to have need for laws and rules, when every other aspect of family and society requires them for good order?
Besides, God has laws--and while the Church does not equal God, the Church is an extension of God, acting with his authority. The Church is a unique entity, being both human and divine at one time; it is the Body of the perfect, sinless, Divine and incarnate Son, filled with the Holy Spirit--and yet its members are sinful human beings. A mystery, St. Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians! When the Law of God is written perfectly in our hearts we will have no need of any other law--i.e., the Beatific Vision! Until then, we need more helps.
Will it be:
Mass for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary?
Or will it be an anticipatory Mass for Sunday?
In Piqua, it will be the Mass of the Assumption. Why?
Well, the Church assigns different solemnities and feasts different ranks. And there is no question that the Solemnity of the Assumption is a higher rank than the Solemnity of the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Ergo, the Assumption--in my reading of the rubrics--takes precedence all day today. Tomorrow, however, is Sunday, and that's when the prayers for the 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time kick in.
Why is there any question?
Well, almost all pastors, and those who assist them, rely on a booklet called the "Ordo," which is designed to gather in one place all the various bits of information one needs all year long about such things. Liturgical books don't always have the newest saints and blesseds added to the church's calendar, for example. The Ordo is very handy in that regard.
However, it was ambiguous regarding this question--it simply didn't say explicitly what I said. Nor did it say the opposite. If you read it closely, however, it says that Second Vespers (i.e., Evening Prayer II) for tonight is for the Assumption, not for Sunday, as it otherwise would be. That confirms what I said.
If pastors don't all do what I'm describing, why wouldn't they?
Well, this happens infrequently, and one tends to forget how it was the last time, say five or six years prior. Also, it will be confusing for readers and musicians, so it is easier to treat the Saturday evening and Sunday Masses the same. Also, the bishops caused some confusion when they created the rule that sometimes a holy day of obligation is not obligatory. I.e., Assumption isn't obligatory when it falls on Saturday or Monday--the rationale being that it's taxing if there are too few priests as there are in many places. I wish the bishops had decided that otherwise. To the minds of many, including, I think, many priests, "not an obligatory holy day" equals saying it's not a solemnity of the highest rank; but this is simply not so.
What about the Sunday obligation?
In my judgment, the Sunday obligation is fulfilled when one goes to the Saturday evening Mass, whether it's for Assumption or anticipatory for the next day. This is the case every time an obligatory day falls on a Saturday--if Christmas falls on Saturday, and Saturday evening Mass must be for Christmas, but it "counts" for either Christmas (that day) or for Sunday, the next day. No double-dipping.
If there are two obligatory days back-to-back, one is obliged to take part in divine worship twice at Mass, sometime between the vigil of the prior obligatory day, through the evening of the second obligatory day--i.e., over three calendar days. Since Assumption isn't an obligatory day, then there's no difficulty about "applying" it to Sunday.
I realize some will say, why isn't it simpler?
First, because when you have any sort of law that obliges people, you have to spell out the details so people know how the law applies.
Second, some of the complexity comes in providing exceptions and accommodations, which is because all these things really are for the benefit of the human beings involved--so accommodating people's weaknesses or work schedules and so forth is a good thing to do, to whatever degree seems reasonable.
Some will say, the Church shouldn't have "laws," but come on--do you have "laws" (you likely call them "rules") in your home? Your workplace? In organizations? Does our society operate without laws? So why expect the society and family we call the Church not to have need for laws and rules, when every other aspect of family and society requires them for good order?
Besides, God has laws--and while the Church does not equal God, the Church is an extension of God, acting with his authority. The Church is a unique entity, being both human and divine at one time; it is the Body of the perfect, sinless, Divine and incarnate Son, filled with the Holy Spirit--and yet its members are sinful human beings. A mystery, St. Paul says in his letter to the Ephesians! When the Law of God is written perfectly in our hearts we will have no need of any other law--i.e., the Beatific Vision! Until then, we need more helps.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Eucharistic Adoration (Sunday homily)
Sorry this will be brief.
This past weekend, all the priests decided to emphasize Eucharistic adoration in our homilies, and to encourage folks to be adorers in our 24-hour Perpetual Adoration St. Clare Chapel. My homily was kind of a mess on Saturday, I think it was better on Sunday morning, when I emphasized the first reading, and having strength for the journey.
This past weekend, we also had a new staff member--our parttime Director of Involvement and Development--introduced at the end of all Masses. And we said goodbye to two of our seminarians. And at 9 am Mass, a couple celebrated its 50th anniversary.
Somehow, I had to weave all that into the homily! I got most of it anyway.
Around 2, I stopped by a party for the same couple and visited with the family. After that, I swung by the Bethany Center, having a barbeque to raise money--and picked up the dinners I'd bought for the seminarians and me. They went with me to St. Boniface, where I was on the schedule to volunteer at bingo; the chicken dinners went in the fridge for later. I was home around 7 pm or so. The seminarians and I watched a great movie, "On the Waterfront," which is remarkable for many things, for good writing in general, for some powerful images of redemption and conversion (Terry, Father Barry)and the temporal consequences of sin (brother Charlie), and for a powerful sermon on the cross by Father Barry at the docks. It's so good I've quoted it on Good Friday. What a great image of a priest; however, we'd never tolerate a priest like that nowadays.
This past weekend, all the priests decided to emphasize Eucharistic adoration in our homilies, and to encourage folks to be adorers in our 24-hour Perpetual Adoration St. Clare Chapel. My homily was kind of a mess on Saturday, I think it was better on Sunday morning, when I emphasized the first reading, and having strength for the journey.
This past weekend, we also had a new staff member--our parttime Director of Involvement and Development--introduced at the end of all Masses. And we said goodbye to two of our seminarians. And at 9 am Mass, a couple celebrated its 50th anniversary.
Somehow, I had to weave all that into the homily! I got most of it anyway.
Around 2, I stopped by a party for the same couple and visited with the family. After that, I swung by the Bethany Center, having a barbeque to raise money--and picked up the dinners I'd bought for the seminarians and me. They went with me to St. Boniface, where I was on the schedule to volunteer at bingo; the chicken dinners went in the fridge for later. I was home around 7 pm or so. The seminarians and I watched a great movie, "On the Waterfront," which is remarkable for many things, for good writing in general, for some powerful images of redemption and conversion (Terry, Father Barry)and the temporal consequences of sin (brother Charlie), and for a powerful sermon on the cross by Father Barry at the docks. It's so good I've quoted it on Good Friday. What a great image of a priest; however, we'd never tolerate a priest like that nowadays.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Thoughts on Health Care
I'm home, but still on vacation officially; doing a little business today, not much.
We're all talking about health care, and the legislation about it, here are my thoughts:
Why does health care cost so much?
1. It costs a lot because you get a lot. We not only get the best in health care in this country--better than anywhere else--we get the best anyone has ever gotten. It's so amazingly good and it's getting better at an amazing rate--and yet we've gotten so accustomed to that we forget what a wonder it is.
This part of the "problem"--is it really a problem? Every day it seems a new drug or procedure comes out that saves lives; medical advances that simply did not exist not too long ago. What's a "fair price" for something like that? How much did it cost to come up with it? If those who came up with it (and spent a lot on other avenues that didn't bear out--and thus netted little or no return on investment) don't recoup all their costs and then some, what will fund the next advance?
How much do we spend? In this article (biretta-tip to Instapundit) in Popular Mechanics--nothing against Popular Mechanics, but why isn't this sort of discussion happening elsewhere? All we seem to see on the networks is repeating talking points, either from the White House or the opposition. In that article, medical innovator Dean Kamen says we spend $260 billion a year on all pharmaceuticals: "That means all those vaccinations to prevent diseases, all those pills to treat diseases, all those pills to cure them so we don't have to treat them anymore. We spent in all branches of all our pharmaceutical suppliers, $260 billion."
By comparison, on tobacco? $88 billion; alcohol: $90 billion; soft drinks: $121 billion; professional sports: $409 billion.
So are we really spending "too much" on lifesaving technology? And the vast majority of Americans are getting the drugs and vaccinations and procedures they need.
2. It costs more than it should because of lawsuits.
Because of the threat of lawsuits, there is an uncertainty factor built into the cost of almost everything we buy and use. The more uncertain you are about possible, unforeseen liability, or even allegations of the same, the more you must pay in insurance to cover that. Medical malpractice insurance is very expensive. We have lawyers advertising nationwide, with 1-800 numbers, soliciting clients to sue over any and all medical conditions--and if you don't know you have a medical problem that can net you money, the lawyers are helpful enough to suggest them for you, in the ads. We have this advertising all over TV, and you're telling me there's no need to address the lawsuit lottery?
3. It costs more because someone else pays.
If you own a home, you get a bill every month for electricity. What do you do? You look at the bill and see if it's what you expect. If it goes up significantly, you try to find out: was there an increase in rates? Was your killowatt usage up significantly? Why? A heat wave? Too many gadgets and lights left on? If you want to cut your electricity bill, you find ways to do it, even turning your a/c a bit higher, and turning on fans.
Imagine, now, that you had "electricity insurance," and all the bills for your whole neighborhood went to the insurance provider; and then you and all your neighbors got a monthly bill for your "premium." Do you really think that would save you money? When the monthly "premium" began to mount, what would you do? You know that if you turned off your a/c entirely, and turned off the lights and sat in the dark, you'd save at best a little, likely too little to notice. Why? Because only if all your neighbors did the same, would it have a significant effect. Maybe if the government policed everyone's electricity usage--only that means hiring inspectors and administrators...
In fact, what happens now is even worse than this; imagine, instead, the bill for the premium wasn't even sent to you; it was sent to your employer. You never saw it, you only knew, generally, that it was going up. Gee, too bad for the employer--now back to the game.
This is how we do health insurance. And we have other constraints, built in, that are driven by desirable social outcomes, but which work against cost-control. Insurance companies can't price their rates based on whether you are male or female, even though they know one sex costs more to insure than the other. Imagine if automobile insurance were handled that way, but it's not.
My point is not to say we shouldn't have health insurance; or that health insurance shouldn't be handled differently from auto insurance; but that if we want to bring down costs, we might look at ways to have the user have a more personal stake in cost-control. Otherwise, it has to be down top-down, and that is not a terribly good way to do it and it inevitably leads to...
Rationing. As far as I can see, that is the only way this massive proposal President Obama, Congress, and the interest groups are all talking about, can meaningfully reduce costs. Because as far as I know, their proposal isn't addressing causes 2 and 3, above; therefore it can only reduce costs of care by giving less care.
I know, the President and his allies say they can wring out "waste, fraud and abuse." Hahaha. The government spends between $3-4 trillion a year; if that's all it takes, why can't the President and Congress come up with significant savings in the operation they, themselves, are responsible for? How is that working out?
Rationing means more people will suffer and it will mean more older people will die sooner. This is the sound basis for what the Administration's apologists in the media are deriding as "myth" and unfounded rumor. Is there any question that end-of-life care is extraordinarily expensive? And there's no question, many times they are doing too much. Why? Remember the lawyers? What the doctors and hospitals spend on extra care that has marginal value is cheaper than what they'll spend when the grieving relatives sue because they callously didn't do enough for grandma. That's what's at work with all those unnecessary tests President Obama lamented, rightly; he needs to talk to his trial-lawyer allies about that one.
But given the march toward euthanasia already, the extension of government micromanagement over the entire health care system is a recipe for a lot more of it, quietly and behind the scenes. How long before drugs that hasten death are deemed "treatment" because the patient chooses it? Of course, such choices can be..."encouraged"... That "choice" will certainly be cheaper, vastly so.
What about abortion?
This is the point that is now getting more mention; it's obvious the President's pro-abortion allies will insist on it, in the name of "choice." The pro-abortion faction isn't talking about it, and won't, until and unless there is a move to remove that from any eventual legislation. The prolife forces are talking about it, but it won't become a major thing until the legislation gets a little further along. It's coming, have no doubt of that.
So what's my answer?
As indicated, the lawsuit lottery and the problems inherent in billing a third-party have to be addressed; that would help. I suspect some legal reform would make a modest improvement, where the bigger savings would come from having actual users of health care pay more directly.
How? I'm sure others can think of better ideas, but it seems to me you continue to have users pay copays, you have users pay the more ordinary costs out of pocket, keeping "insurance" for the really big-ticket items. These things are happening now, but they aren't across-the-board. I've thought that health insurance might be better if it were more like life insurance: you build up equity over time. If it were portable, that might be worthwhile; that means changing the tax laws so tax benefits go to the individual, rather than his or her employer, as is the case now.
But as the article I linked above points out, paying more to get miracles is hardly a "crisis"; and in any case, the answer is an economy that is growing robustly and generating lots of good jobs. If real wealth goes up, we can afford more such miracles.
Our economy isn't growing, and the sorts of things President Obama has advocated have never been known to foster robust growth. Someone will accuse me of being partisan, but one can point to both Reagan (R) and Clinton (D) as periods of strong economic growth; that sort of growth would serve us well today. Unfortunately, Bush and (thus far) Obama have pursued policies that are weighing down the economy, and worse, creating uncertainty for investors.
What about the uninsured?
Well, my guess is that all those who are uninsured are uninsured for different reasons: many because of no work, or they work in jobs that don't provide health insurance. Again, a stronger economy, with more jobs, is key here; on the other hand, how can we provide folks insurance, at someone else's expense, in our present situation? Speaking most broadly, if you need to buy something you don't have, and can't presently afford, you need more wealth. That's where we are: we need the wealth of our entire society and economy to increase, and we'll be better able to afford more health insurance.
Supposedly, many who are uninsured are so by choice: they are young and healthy and figure it's worth the risk. I don't know if the facts bear that out, but it's likely to be true. I didn't care much about health insurance in my teens and 20s, and to the present, my health is great, so everyone else is getting his or her health care paid for by the premiums paid in my behalf.
I suppose one could enact a law, similar to what we do with automobile liability: if you drive, you must have proof of insurance or liability protection, so that in the event you cause harm, you can pay. But where I'd like to know more is real, carefully examined data on just how much such uninsured people actually "cost the system"--we're told this accounts for lots of built-in costs.
But is that actually true? Inquiring minds want to know. I have a suspicion it's less than is usually thought, because while individual stories are memorable, of someone with no insurance getting into an accident, or needing a life-saving operation, costing a fortune, I also suspect that simply doesn't happen frequently enough to represent that large a share of overall costs.
I'm sure there's more to say: now it's your turn.
We're all talking about health care, and the legislation about it, here are my thoughts:
Why does health care cost so much?
1. It costs a lot because you get a lot. We not only get the best in health care in this country--better than anywhere else--we get the best anyone has ever gotten. It's so amazingly good and it's getting better at an amazing rate--and yet we've gotten so accustomed to that we forget what a wonder it is.
This part of the "problem"--is it really a problem? Every day it seems a new drug or procedure comes out that saves lives; medical advances that simply did not exist not too long ago. What's a "fair price" for something like that? How much did it cost to come up with it? If those who came up with it (and spent a lot on other avenues that didn't bear out--and thus netted little or no return on investment) don't recoup all their costs and then some, what will fund the next advance?
How much do we spend? In this article (biretta-tip to Instapundit) in Popular Mechanics--nothing against Popular Mechanics, but why isn't this sort of discussion happening elsewhere? All we seem to see on the networks is repeating talking points, either from the White House or the opposition. In that article, medical innovator Dean Kamen says we spend $260 billion a year on all pharmaceuticals: "That means all those vaccinations to prevent diseases, all those pills to treat diseases, all those pills to cure them so we don't have to treat them anymore. We spent in all branches of all our pharmaceutical suppliers, $260 billion."
By comparison, on tobacco? $88 billion; alcohol: $90 billion; soft drinks: $121 billion; professional sports: $409 billion.
So are we really spending "too much" on lifesaving technology? And the vast majority of Americans are getting the drugs and vaccinations and procedures they need.
2. It costs more than it should because of lawsuits.
Because of the threat of lawsuits, there is an uncertainty factor built into the cost of almost everything we buy and use. The more uncertain you are about possible, unforeseen liability, or even allegations of the same, the more you must pay in insurance to cover that. Medical malpractice insurance is very expensive. We have lawyers advertising nationwide, with 1-800 numbers, soliciting clients to sue over any and all medical conditions--and if you don't know you have a medical problem that can net you money, the lawyers are helpful enough to suggest them for you, in the ads. We have this advertising all over TV, and you're telling me there's no need to address the lawsuit lottery?
3. It costs more because someone else pays.
If you own a home, you get a bill every month for electricity. What do you do? You look at the bill and see if it's what you expect. If it goes up significantly, you try to find out: was there an increase in rates? Was your killowatt usage up significantly? Why? A heat wave? Too many gadgets and lights left on? If you want to cut your electricity bill, you find ways to do it, even turning your a/c a bit higher, and turning on fans.
Imagine, now, that you had "electricity insurance," and all the bills for your whole neighborhood went to the insurance provider; and then you and all your neighbors got a monthly bill for your "premium." Do you really think that would save you money? When the monthly "premium" began to mount, what would you do? You know that if you turned off your a/c entirely, and turned off the lights and sat in the dark, you'd save at best a little, likely too little to notice. Why? Because only if all your neighbors did the same, would it have a significant effect. Maybe if the government policed everyone's electricity usage--only that means hiring inspectors and administrators...
In fact, what happens now is even worse than this; imagine, instead, the bill for the premium wasn't even sent to you; it was sent to your employer. You never saw it, you only knew, generally, that it was going up. Gee, too bad for the employer--now back to the game.
This is how we do health insurance. And we have other constraints, built in, that are driven by desirable social outcomes, but which work against cost-control. Insurance companies can't price their rates based on whether you are male or female, even though they know one sex costs more to insure than the other. Imagine if automobile insurance were handled that way, but it's not.
My point is not to say we shouldn't have health insurance; or that health insurance shouldn't be handled differently from auto insurance; but that if we want to bring down costs, we might look at ways to have the user have a more personal stake in cost-control. Otherwise, it has to be down top-down, and that is not a terribly good way to do it and it inevitably leads to...
Rationing. As far as I can see, that is the only way this massive proposal President Obama, Congress, and the interest groups are all talking about, can meaningfully reduce costs. Because as far as I know, their proposal isn't addressing causes 2 and 3, above; therefore it can only reduce costs of care by giving less care.
I know, the President and his allies say they can wring out "waste, fraud and abuse." Hahaha. The government spends between $3-4 trillion a year; if that's all it takes, why can't the President and Congress come up with significant savings in the operation they, themselves, are responsible for? How is that working out?
Rationing means more people will suffer and it will mean more older people will die sooner. This is the sound basis for what the Administration's apologists in the media are deriding as "myth" and unfounded rumor. Is there any question that end-of-life care is extraordinarily expensive? And there's no question, many times they are doing too much. Why? Remember the lawyers? What the doctors and hospitals spend on extra care that has marginal value is cheaper than what they'll spend when the grieving relatives sue because they callously didn't do enough for grandma. That's what's at work with all those unnecessary tests President Obama lamented, rightly; he needs to talk to his trial-lawyer allies about that one.
But given the march toward euthanasia already, the extension of government micromanagement over the entire health care system is a recipe for a lot more of it, quietly and behind the scenes. How long before drugs that hasten death are deemed "treatment" because the patient chooses it? Of course, such choices can be..."encouraged"... That "choice" will certainly be cheaper, vastly so.
What about abortion?
This is the point that is now getting more mention; it's obvious the President's pro-abortion allies will insist on it, in the name of "choice." The pro-abortion faction isn't talking about it, and won't, until and unless there is a move to remove that from any eventual legislation. The prolife forces are talking about it, but it won't become a major thing until the legislation gets a little further along. It's coming, have no doubt of that.
So what's my answer?
As indicated, the lawsuit lottery and the problems inherent in billing a third-party have to be addressed; that would help. I suspect some legal reform would make a modest improvement, where the bigger savings would come from having actual users of health care pay more directly.
How? I'm sure others can think of better ideas, but it seems to me you continue to have users pay copays, you have users pay the more ordinary costs out of pocket, keeping "insurance" for the really big-ticket items. These things are happening now, but they aren't across-the-board. I've thought that health insurance might be better if it were more like life insurance: you build up equity over time. If it were portable, that might be worthwhile; that means changing the tax laws so tax benefits go to the individual, rather than his or her employer, as is the case now.
But as the article I linked above points out, paying more to get miracles is hardly a "crisis"; and in any case, the answer is an economy that is growing robustly and generating lots of good jobs. If real wealth goes up, we can afford more such miracles.
Our economy isn't growing, and the sorts of things President Obama has advocated have never been known to foster robust growth. Someone will accuse me of being partisan, but one can point to both Reagan (R) and Clinton (D) as periods of strong economic growth; that sort of growth would serve us well today. Unfortunately, Bush and (thus far) Obama have pursued policies that are weighing down the economy, and worse, creating uncertainty for investors.
What about the uninsured?
Well, my guess is that all those who are uninsured are uninsured for different reasons: many because of no work, or they work in jobs that don't provide health insurance. Again, a stronger economy, with more jobs, is key here; on the other hand, how can we provide folks insurance, at someone else's expense, in our present situation? Speaking most broadly, if you need to buy something you don't have, and can't presently afford, you need more wealth. That's where we are: we need the wealth of our entire society and economy to increase, and we'll be better able to afford more health insurance.
Supposedly, many who are uninsured are so by choice: they are young and healthy and figure it's worth the risk. I don't know if the facts bear that out, but it's likely to be true. I didn't care much about health insurance in my teens and 20s, and to the present, my health is great, so everyone else is getting his or her health care paid for by the premiums paid in my behalf.
I suppose one could enact a law, similar to what we do with automobile liability: if you drive, you must have proof of insurance or liability protection, so that in the event you cause harm, you can pay. But where I'd like to know more is real, carefully examined data on just how much such uninsured people actually "cost the system"--we're told this accounts for lots of built-in costs.
But is that actually true? Inquiring minds want to know. I have a suspicion it's less than is usually thought, because while individual stories are memorable, of someone with no insurance getting into an accident, or needing a life-saving operation, costing a fortune, I also suspect that simply doesn't happen frequently enough to represent that large a share of overall costs.
I'm sure there's more to say: now it's your turn.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
A few notes...
> Visited the restored Basilica of the Assumption in Baltimore on Saturday; this is the mother church for all U.S. Catholics, as it is the cathedral for our mother diocese. The church was designed by Latrobe, the same architect that President Jefferson selected for the U.S. Capitol. I offer no opinion on the merits of the restoration, as--I'm told--it involved removing stained-glass windows; but the newly restored basilica is beautiful. Perhaps folks want to offer comments pro and con.
> Had Mass at the Cathedral of St. Thomas More yesterday on the Memorial of St. John Vianney.
> Never did mention the church at Atlantic City, Our Lady, Star of the Sea; nice church, reflects some modifications made post Council. Those priests do a great job providing Mass and confessions for the folks in Atlantic City!
> Attended the Nationals-Marlins game at Nationals stadium in D.C. Only when I was walking in did I realize that while it was my first baseball game there, it was my second time there--I was there to concelebrate Mass with the holy father! Nats won, 6-4. The clean-up crew barked at us, get out of your seats, get going! while my friend was completing his score card. Has that ever happened to you?
> Following the news, and they must be saying in North Korea: "you know what? snatching those American journalists was a great idea! Look how well that paid off--first time a U.S. President came and paid court to our Dear Leader!"
> Met a couple of young men thinking about the priesthood, one who is soon entering, another who is going to check out a seminary. Just met them in the course of being with friends; great huh?
> After Baltimore (Friday), and several days in the D.C. area, I'm headed down to Virginia Beach to visit with friends there, tonight; then start back home tomorrow.
> Had Mass at the Cathedral of St. Thomas More yesterday on the Memorial of St. John Vianney.
> Never did mention the church at Atlantic City, Our Lady, Star of the Sea; nice church, reflects some modifications made post Council. Those priests do a great job providing Mass and confessions for the folks in Atlantic City!
> Attended the Nationals-Marlins game at Nationals stadium in D.C. Only when I was walking in did I realize that while it was my first baseball game there, it was my second time there--I was there to concelebrate Mass with the holy father! Nats won, 6-4. The clean-up crew barked at us, get out of your seats, get going! while my friend was completing his score card. Has that ever happened to you?
> Following the news, and they must be saying in North Korea: "you know what? snatching those American journalists was a great idea! Look how well that paid off--first time a U.S. President came and paid court to our Dear Leader!"
> Met a couple of young men thinking about the priesthood, one who is soon entering, another who is going to check out a seminary. Just met them in the course of being with friends; great huh?
> After Baltimore (Friday), and several days in the D.C. area, I'm headed down to Virginia Beach to visit with friends there, tonight; then start back home tomorrow.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Mass over the bones of a saint
On Friday, I had the unique experience of offering Mass over the bones of St. John Neumann, bishop of Philadelphia.
If you travel to the Philadelphia area, find St. Peter's Church on the near north side; it's just up 5th Street from I-676, comparatively easy to get to; it has a parking lot, although I found parking on the street.
The shrine to the saint is in a basement chapel, which is fairly large, filling the entire basement. A nice number of folks came for the 12:15 pm Mass--before which, two priests were hearing confessions.
I'm sorry I have no pictures--I have an "antique" cell phone (meaning more than 3 years old) that has no camera built in. The altar is designed to accommodate a clear sarcophagus, in which the remains of the saint are on display. According to the parish web site, St. John's body is not incorrupt; his remains are vested, and a mask of his face covers the head. The priest who was the celebrant--I concelebrated--informed me after Mass that the remains were recently "redressed," and were thus examined at that time. He said some experts from Rome came for that, and it was a big deal. About the present state of his remains I chose not to inquire.
It occurs to me that for all the saints we have from this country, this is the first time I've offered Mass at a shrine connected to any of them; whereas I have visited shrines connected with saints in Rome. I shall have to consider such a tour.
Do you have any stories or information about shrines for our American saints? Please post them in the comments, especially if you've visited. I'm embarrassed to admit I don't even know where the rest of their remains repose. Something to look up!
If you travel to the Philadelphia area, find St. Peter's Church on the near north side; it's just up 5th Street from I-676, comparatively easy to get to; it has a parking lot, although I found parking on the street.
The shrine to the saint is in a basement chapel, which is fairly large, filling the entire basement. A nice number of folks came for the 12:15 pm Mass--before which, two priests were hearing confessions.
I'm sorry I have no pictures--I have an "antique" cell phone (meaning more than 3 years old) that has no camera built in. The altar is designed to accommodate a clear sarcophagus, in which the remains of the saint are on display. According to the parish web site, St. John's body is not incorrupt; his remains are vested, and a mask of his face covers the head. The priest who was the celebrant--I concelebrated--informed me after Mass that the remains were recently "redressed," and were thus examined at that time. He said some experts from Rome came for that, and it was a big deal. About the present state of his remains I chose not to inquire.
It occurs to me that for all the saints we have from this country, this is the first time I've offered Mass at a shrine connected to any of them; whereas I have visited shrines connected with saints in Rome. I shall have to consider such a tour.
Do you have any stories or information about shrines for our American saints? Please post them in the comments, especially if you've visited. I'm embarrassed to admit I don't even know where the rest of their remains repose. Something to look up!
St. Catherine of Siena, Great Falls Virginia
(I've been remiss in telling you about the sacred places I've visited on my vacation; I will, I hope, tell you about my visit to the shrine of St. John Newmann in Philadelphia before long; but here follows my experience of Sunday Mass in Northern Virginia.)
On the Lord's Day, I had the joy of concelebrating the Mass with Father Alexander Drummond, pastor of St. Catherine Parish in Great Falls, Virginia. I had heard good things, and also a friend of mine, who is not Catholic, asked about attending Mass with me, and then we'd visit afterward; I wanted him to have a good experience of the Holy Sacrifice.
Everything was praiseworthy, and I told Father Drummond I was envious of many of the things he had accomplished. His servers were very well trained and performed beautifully. He had so many for the first Sunday in August--he said, "they flock to this Mass." He had one very young fellow, Thomas, who was learning the ropes; apparently, Father has new fellows just show up, put on a cassock and surplice, and be guided by the older, more experienced servers--although he also has classes.
This suburban parish of 4,000 families has four Masses a weekend; I took part in the 10 am Mass, which was all in Latin, except for the readings, prayers of the faithful, and of course the homily. Everything else was in Latin, from the opening Sign of the Cross to the final "Ite, Missa Est." We did pray the prayer to St. Michael in English, but the closing hymn was the Salve Regina.
Father sang a few of the prayers of the Mass, but he was using the same, Missa in Cantu book I have, that provides all the prayers of the Mass, in Latin, set to chant; I use it at the 8 am Mass every first Wednesday of the Month at St. Mary, and his copy was well-thumbed; so I'm assuming he often chants the prayers. Those he chanted, he did so impeccably.
This Mass featured the assigned music for the opening, offertory and communion: it is very little known or understood that when we use hymns at this point--as the vast majority of Catholic parishes do--we are consistently avoiding what the Second Vatican Council, and the norms for the Mass, actually call for, which is Scripture-based texts set to chant. They can be sung in the original Latin, to Gregorian tones; or they can be chanted in English; at Masses with no music, you will hear the antiphon recited from time to time--this is the bare minimum.
At this Mass, they were sung by a cantor in Latin, in Gregorian chant--and that was done beautifully. No doubt, some would react negatively: they couldn't themselves sing along (and in fact almost everyone listened); and they wouldn't immediately recognize the words. But a program was handed out that provided both the Latin text and an English translation. Of course, listening is participation; and it would be a terrible mistake to reduce music merely to its words; music, rather, marries a meaningful text to a well-chosen set of notes, something I lack the talent to do, but others possess: and the combination is the true, good and beautiful all in one. So the fact that folks did not sing it does not mean they weren't participating; sometimes something is so beautiful, you simply listen.
Because, in fact, people did sing the other prayers of the Mass, in Latin, rather well: the Gloria and the Credo in particular. There is something deeply meaningful to me about praying the Creed in it's original words: the Councils of Nicea and Constantinople, from which we derive this Creed, published this infallible statement of faith in Latin and Greek, and we recite it in the very same words (with the addition of the filioque of course, but let us not tarry on that point).
Another feature of the Mass was the use of ad orientem--that is, while at the altar for the liturgy of the Eucharist and the communion rite, the celebrant faced the same way as the people, and thus all faced the Lord together; some will refer to this as the priest "with his back to the people." Of course, I have no idea what the folks of the parish thought about it, and no doubt those who dislike it attend the other Masses where this is not done. But those present seemed cheerful and spiritually nourished as they left Mass. There were a lot of children, including young children, at the Mass; while there was a hermetically sealed "cry room," there were plenty of young ones outside of it, and I did not notice any significant increase in vocal meltdowns at this allegedly less-engaging Mass.
At this point, you may be confused--you may say, "oh, you mean you concelebrated the older form of the Mass, from before the Council." No, this is the Mass as reformed after the Council, according to all the proper norms and rubrics, as provided for the very same sacramentary, or book of Mass prayers, used at every Roman-Rite Catholic parish in the world.
"But wait, Father, how can that be? You said it was in Latin, and the priest was facing the same way as the people--wasn't all that done away with by the Council?"
While that is what a lot of people believe, and were told, the answer is no; on the contrary, many are shocked to discover that, far from abolishing these things, the Council presupposed both that Latin would continue to be used, to some degree, and the Council said not a single word about the priest moving to the other side of the altar--i.e., the Council never called for that latter change. And even the post-Counciliar implementation of the new Mass did not mandate the priest stand behind the altar and face the people. Like the use of the vernacular, it was allowed as an option, an option almost universally implemented, to the point some now insist it is mandatory. But not so.
My friend, over breakfast, said he found it beautiful and spiritually refreshing: "it was what I needed today." But he asked what many ask: "why is Latin important?"
I gave him the following reasons:
1) It connects us, in an experiential way, to our formative roots. The liturgy is not a re-creation of the Last Supper; but an experience, in mystery (i.e., via sacramental reality), of all the actions of Christ that save us: his life, death, resurrection and ascension into heaven. The Mass is all this rolled into one, and more. That's why we don't do it in Aramaic or Greek, but we do it in Latin, because the Roman form of the sacred liturgy was formed in Latin--that is the Mass's original language, and remains so this this very minute.
2) Keeping Latin just a little alive in our experience and consciousness opens us up to a vast treasury of our patrimony which orginated in Latin. Of course, the written word can be translated, but poetry and music, not so well. When was the last time someone at a wedding or funeral asked for the Ave Maria to be sung--but in English? Why do they always want it sung in Latin? Because it's beautiful; and translating it undoes the beauty of the singular expression. This is why so much of our music hasn't been translated from the Latin; it has simply been left behind.
3) There is a value to praying a kind of sacred language, based on something observable in the human mind. Alongside all the advantages of having the Mass and other sacramental rituals in our own language, there is a downside--of approaching the liturgy, and the mystery it makes present, primarily with our intellectual function. When we hear words we understand, our intellect is engaged, and we "digest" the words and the ideas they convey. This is good of course; but the danger is in thinking the mysteries made present in the Mass should be approached principally in this fashion. In fact, we do well to approach these mysteries on various levels, the level of intellectual understanding being only one level.
In short, the danger is to flatten and make mundane the mystery. Someone says, "I don't like praying words I don't understand." But who can say s/he understands what it means to call God "holy"? We are kidding ourselves if we understand the meaning of calling him "holy" better than we understand calling him "sanctus."
My point being that using Latin--even with a translation handy--provides a kind of circuit-breaker that enables us to separate the experience of mystery from the apprehension of the mystery with our intellects; so that we don't just make the distinction in an abstract way, but we experience it. Learning, after all, isn't just a matter of being told something, or getting it abstractly, but by doing: you don't learn to drive merely by having the concepts and methods explained to you; you have to get behind the wheel.
It truly saddens me that there is not more openness to this. I wish more people could experience the liturgy as I did on Sunday, as I have many times before elsewhere. The very fact that a more familiar path is closed--the path of hearing and responding in ones own language--is closed, opens up new avenues unconsidered; just as you find if, while awake, you silence yourself and your surroundings, and close your eyes, you will, after a few minutes, find you are hearing things you seemingly didn't hear a few minutes before; or when you look up into the night sky, with all the artificial light turned off: you see things you never knew were there. I am convinced that many people would have similarly surprising discoveries in the liturgy where it is celebrated to a significant degree in Latin, and with more silence and dignity, less constant pressure for everyone to be saying something and moving about; but the resistance is constant, and the steps are small.
On the Lord's Day, I had the joy of concelebrating the Mass with Father Alexander Drummond, pastor of St. Catherine Parish in Great Falls, Virginia. I had heard good things, and also a friend of mine, who is not Catholic, asked about attending Mass with me, and then we'd visit afterward; I wanted him to have a good experience of the Holy Sacrifice.
Everything was praiseworthy, and I told Father Drummond I was envious of many of the things he had accomplished. His servers were very well trained and performed beautifully. He had so many for the first Sunday in August--he said, "they flock to this Mass." He had one very young fellow, Thomas, who was learning the ropes; apparently, Father has new fellows just show up, put on a cassock and surplice, and be guided by the older, more experienced servers--although he also has classes.
This suburban parish of 4,000 families has four Masses a weekend; I took part in the 10 am Mass, which was all in Latin, except for the readings, prayers of the faithful, and of course the homily. Everything else was in Latin, from the opening Sign of the Cross to the final "Ite, Missa Est." We did pray the prayer to St. Michael in English, but the closing hymn was the Salve Regina.
Father sang a few of the prayers of the Mass, but he was using the same, Missa in Cantu book I have, that provides all the prayers of the Mass, in Latin, set to chant; I use it at the 8 am Mass every first Wednesday of the Month at St. Mary, and his copy was well-thumbed; so I'm assuming he often chants the prayers. Those he chanted, he did so impeccably.
This Mass featured the assigned music for the opening, offertory and communion: it is very little known or understood that when we use hymns at this point--as the vast majority of Catholic parishes do--we are consistently avoiding what the Second Vatican Council, and the norms for the Mass, actually call for, which is Scripture-based texts set to chant. They can be sung in the original Latin, to Gregorian tones; or they can be chanted in English; at Masses with no music, you will hear the antiphon recited from time to time--this is the bare minimum.
At this Mass, they were sung by a cantor in Latin, in Gregorian chant--and that was done beautifully. No doubt, some would react negatively: they couldn't themselves sing along (and in fact almost everyone listened); and they wouldn't immediately recognize the words. But a program was handed out that provided both the Latin text and an English translation. Of course, listening is participation; and it would be a terrible mistake to reduce music merely to its words; music, rather, marries a meaningful text to a well-chosen set of notes, something I lack the talent to do, but others possess: and the combination is the true, good and beautiful all in one. So the fact that folks did not sing it does not mean they weren't participating; sometimes something is so beautiful, you simply listen.
Because, in fact, people did sing the other prayers of the Mass, in Latin, rather well: the Gloria and the Credo in particular. There is something deeply meaningful to me about praying the Creed in it's original words: the Councils of Nicea and Constantinople, from which we derive this Creed, published this infallible statement of faith in Latin and Greek, and we recite it in the very same words (with the addition of the filioque of course, but let us not tarry on that point).
Another feature of the Mass was the use of ad orientem--that is, while at the altar for the liturgy of the Eucharist and the communion rite, the celebrant faced the same way as the people, and thus all faced the Lord together; some will refer to this as the priest "with his back to the people." Of course, I have no idea what the folks of the parish thought about it, and no doubt those who dislike it attend the other Masses where this is not done. But those present seemed cheerful and spiritually nourished as they left Mass. There were a lot of children, including young children, at the Mass; while there was a hermetically sealed "cry room," there were plenty of young ones outside of it, and I did not notice any significant increase in vocal meltdowns at this allegedly less-engaging Mass.
At this point, you may be confused--you may say, "oh, you mean you concelebrated the older form of the Mass, from before the Council." No, this is the Mass as reformed after the Council, according to all the proper norms and rubrics, as provided for the very same sacramentary, or book of Mass prayers, used at every Roman-Rite Catholic parish in the world.
"But wait, Father, how can that be? You said it was in Latin, and the priest was facing the same way as the people--wasn't all that done away with by the Council?"
While that is what a lot of people believe, and were told, the answer is no; on the contrary, many are shocked to discover that, far from abolishing these things, the Council presupposed both that Latin would continue to be used, to some degree, and the Council said not a single word about the priest moving to the other side of the altar--i.e., the Council never called for that latter change. And even the post-Counciliar implementation of the new Mass did not mandate the priest stand behind the altar and face the people. Like the use of the vernacular, it was allowed as an option, an option almost universally implemented, to the point some now insist it is mandatory. But not so.
My friend, over breakfast, said he found it beautiful and spiritually refreshing: "it was what I needed today." But he asked what many ask: "why is Latin important?"
I gave him the following reasons:
1) It connects us, in an experiential way, to our formative roots. The liturgy is not a re-creation of the Last Supper; but an experience, in mystery (i.e., via sacramental reality), of all the actions of Christ that save us: his life, death, resurrection and ascension into heaven. The Mass is all this rolled into one, and more. That's why we don't do it in Aramaic or Greek, but we do it in Latin, because the Roman form of the sacred liturgy was formed in Latin--that is the Mass's original language, and remains so this this very minute.
2) Keeping Latin just a little alive in our experience and consciousness opens us up to a vast treasury of our patrimony which orginated in Latin. Of course, the written word can be translated, but poetry and music, not so well. When was the last time someone at a wedding or funeral asked for the Ave Maria to be sung--but in English? Why do they always want it sung in Latin? Because it's beautiful; and translating it undoes the beauty of the singular expression. This is why so much of our music hasn't been translated from the Latin; it has simply been left behind.
3) There is a value to praying a kind of sacred language, based on something observable in the human mind. Alongside all the advantages of having the Mass and other sacramental rituals in our own language, there is a downside--of approaching the liturgy, and the mystery it makes present, primarily with our intellectual function. When we hear words we understand, our intellect is engaged, and we "digest" the words and the ideas they convey. This is good of course; but the danger is in thinking the mysteries made present in the Mass should be approached principally in this fashion. In fact, we do well to approach these mysteries on various levels, the level of intellectual understanding being only one level.
In short, the danger is to flatten and make mundane the mystery. Someone says, "I don't like praying words I don't understand." But who can say s/he understands what it means to call God "holy"? We are kidding ourselves if we understand the meaning of calling him "holy" better than we understand calling him "sanctus."
My point being that using Latin--even with a translation handy--provides a kind of circuit-breaker that enables us to separate the experience of mystery from the apprehension of the mystery with our intellects; so that we don't just make the distinction in an abstract way, but we experience it. Learning, after all, isn't just a matter of being told something, or getting it abstractly, but by doing: you don't learn to drive merely by having the concepts and methods explained to you; you have to get behind the wheel.
It truly saddens me that there is not more openness to this. I wish more people could experience the liturgy as I did on Sunday, as I have many times before elsewhere. The very fact that a more familiar path is closed--the path of hearing and responding in ones own language--is closed, opens up new avenues unconsidered; just as you find if, while awake, you silence yourself and your surroundings, and close your eyes, you will, after a few minutes, find you are hearing things you seemingly didn't hear a few minutes before; or when you look up into the night sky, with all the artificial light turned off: you see things you never knew were there. I am convinced that many people would have similarly surprising discoveries in the liturgy where it is celebrated to a significant degree in Latin, and with more silence and dignity, less constant pressure for everyone to be saying something and moving about; but the resistance is constant, and the steps are small.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Philly meet up?
I'm headed back to Philadelphia tomorrow, and I plan on visiting the shrine of St. John Neumann; Mass is at 12:15 pm, I'm hoping the celebrant won't mind a concelebrant.
It's late notice, but if anyone is interested in a meetup for lunch, leave a comment.
I haven't a clue what's good around there, so suggestions gratefully accepted!
It's late notice, but if anyone is interested in a meetup for lunch, leave a comment.
I haven't a clue what's good around there, so suggestions gratefully accepted!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Don't stay in Atlantic City
...and don't believe Donald Trump when he says he does everything "first class."
Seduced by a great hotel rate, I'm sitting very near the famed boardwalk. It seemed like a good idea at the time...
My last visit to Atlantic City was over 30 years ago, as a kid, with my family. In 1977, the New Jersey legislature approved casino gambling, and I figured, with 32 years having gone by, the influx of casinos would have restored luster to at least part of Atlantic City. In one sense, it was a good idea--if Atlantic City ever flourished (maybe it was always this seedy?), it was as a playground.
Well, it doesn't seem to have worked. I suspect the crooks take too much of a rake-off--and no, I don't mean the Soprano-set; they would know to keep the resort and boardwalk area clean and spiffy, and keep the "cash for gold" stores (I counted at least 10 just walking and driving around) well out of sight.
I stayed at the Chelsea Hotel, which is nice enough; I'm in the old section, which I--the fool that I am--thought would be "charming." It's clean enough, but it's not charming. Threadbare--that's the word for almost everything around here, even the Trump resorts: as I drove by one, and walked by another, I noticed several places where things had been allowed to go to pot.
Now, maybe Las Vegas has changed, but I don't remember this sort of thing being allowed to happen there. When I worked in politics, I used to travel a lot, and I visited Las Vegas several times. As I recall, the old downtown was not as decrepit as this is--and since then, they spent a bunch of money and put a semi-dome over it. Again, it's been many years, and maybe Las Vegas has slid backward.
So, I figured--if Atlantic City is anything like Vegas, it should be nice. I know all the dings against Vegas, but my point is, one thing Vegas excels at is providing comfort and service. Back in the day at least, they really scurried to cater to you.
Anyway, walking down the boardwalk this morning, I thought about why this might have failed. I realize this is a bad economy, but this doesn't look like a place that was overly prosperous before 2008. As mentioned, the crooks probably are greedier here, or at least, they probably have more layers of graft, so the skim is skimmed, and skimmed again. Also, the climate is against Atlantic City. And third is Big Labor power. Nevada is (tenuously) a Right to Work state, and New Jersey is pretty much at the farthest pole from that.
Now, I expect someone in the comments to scream with outrage that I don't genuflect to union power, but if you want to do that, how about trying to defend this? As I drove into town, I saw several billboards with a slogan very close to this: in giant letters, "everyone loses at Name and Name Casinos"; in much smaller print, I saw something like, "if workers aren't given their due." Later, I discovered this was part of a campaign by the United Auto Workers to win a contract with monopoly bargaining rights over table dealers (yes, really, the UAW).
Now, yes, unfairness to workers is a bad thing. Of course, "fairness" is not defined by union-representation. Although the workers may indeed be better off with union representation; I doubt it, but that should be their individual choice. But please note how the union chiefs did this: they are attempting to get their way by damaging the business prospects of the employer. It's like something a friend of mine did, many years ago, standing outside a restaurant he left in anger (we'd been too noisy) as people walked in: "did you see that rat? boy, that was a big one, bigger than the last one!"
A union apologist will say this is just an exception, caused by a few bad apples--except it happens pretty often, and those billboard were hired by "bad apples" obviously running the whole show. It reminds me of what happened some years back, at the Frontier Casino in Las Vegas (Nevada being a Right to Work state hasn't prevented vigorous union activity, contrary to what furious opponents of Right to Work always claim), when some "overzealous" union-hired picketers actually assaulted customers of the casino as they dared to walk past the picket line.
That said, there is some of Las Vegas here. Last night, I walked up to a little mini-mall on the boardwalk, in front of Ceasars, and had dinner at an "Irish pub"called "the Trinity," which supposedly was disassembled in Ireland and shipped over! The beer was very good, and the place was well kept and the service good; the burger was average. I missed the water show that takes place every hour on the hour in the front of the building; if I'm walking by later at the right time, I'll check it out.
But wait till you get a load of this: I'm walking through the mini-mall, and I notice these beach chairs lined up along the south side, facing the evening sun coming through the window. Palm trees are planted there, very nice, just like the beach, even down to--get this: beach sand! I watched as people carefully shook the sand off their feet, put on their sandals, and stepped back onto the polished floor of the mall. All they needed was to pipe in purified ocean water so you could dip your feet in the ocean in climate-controlled comfort.
Then there were the fires in the fireplaces--first in the pub, then in another restaurant I walked by--yes, in late July, as it's 85 and humid outside, and the insides are cooled surely below 70.
So there's one upside: the hotel here is not hectoring me with little cards about saving the planet by reusing my towels and sheets. Not that I mind resuing my towels and sheets, but the whole idea that this meaningfully helps the environment is risible.
Oh, and the homeless people are perfectly nice here--no problems.
Seduced by a great hotel rate, I'm sitting very near the famed boardwalk. It seemed like a good idea at the time...
My last visit to Atlantic City was over 30 years ago, as a kid, with my family. In 1977, the New Jersey legislature approved casino gambling, and I figured, with 32 years having gone by, the influx of casinos would have restored luster to at least part of Atlantic City. In one sense, it was a good idea--if Atlantic City ever flourished (maybe it was always this seedy?), it was as a playground.
Well, it doesn't seem to have worked. I suspect the crooks take too much of a rake-off--and no, I don't mean the Soprano-set; they would know to keep the resort and boardwalk area clean and spiffy, and keep the "cash for gold" stores (I counted at least 10 just walking and driving around) well out of sight.
I stayed at the Chelsea Hotel, which is nice enough; I'm in the old section, which I--the fool that I am--thought would be "charming." It's clean enough, but it's not charming. Threadbare--that's the word for almost everything around here, even the Trump resorts: as I drove by one, and walked by another, I noticed several places where things had been allowed to go to pot.
Now, maybe Las Vegas has changed, but I don't remember this sort of thing being allowed to happen there. When I worked in politics, I used to travel a lot, and I visited Las Vegas several times. As I recall, the old downtown was not as decrepit as this is--and since then, they spent a bunch of money and put a semi-dome over it. Again, it's been many years, and maybe Las Vegas has slid backward.
So, I figured--if Atlantic City is anything like Vegas, it should be nice. I know all the dings against Vegas, but my point is, one thing Vegas excels at is providing comfort and service. Back in the day at least, they really scurried to cater to you.
Anyway, walking down the boardwalk this morning, I thought about why this might have failed. I realize this is a bad economy, but this doesn't look like a place that was overly prosperous before 2008. As mentioned, the crooks probably are greedier here, or at least, they probably have more layers of graft, so the skim is skimmed, and skimmed again. Also, the climate is against Atlantic City. And third is Big Labor power. Nevada is (tenuously) a Right to Work state, and New Jersey is pretty much at the farthest pole from that.
Now, I expect someone in the comments to scream with outrage that I don't genuflect to union power, but if you want to do that, how about trying to defend this? As I drove into town, I saw several billboards with a slogan very close to this: in giant letters, "everyone loses at Name and Name Casinos"; in much smaller print, I saw something like, "if workers aren't given their due." Later, I discovered this was part of a campaign by the United Auto Workers to win a contract with monopoly bargaining rights over table dealers (yes, really, the UAW).
Now, yes, unfairness to workers is a bad thing. Of course, "fairness" is not defined by union-representation. Although the workers may indeed be better off with union representation; I doubt it, but that should be their individual choice. But please note how the union chiefs did this: they are attempting to get their way by damaging the business prospects of the employer. It's like something a friend of mine did, many years ago, standing outside a restaurant he left in anger (we'd been too noisy) as people walked in: "did you see that rat? boy, that was a big one, bigger than the last one!"
A union apologist will say this is just an exception, caused by a few bad apples--except it happens pretty often, and those billboard were hired by "bad apples" obviously running the whole show. It reminds me of what happened some years back, at the Frontier Casino in Las Vegas (Nevada being a Right to Work state hasn't prevented vigorous union activity, contrary to what furious opponents of Right to Work always claim), when some "overzealous" union-hired picketers actually assaulted customers of the casino as they dared to walk past the picket line.
That said, there is some of Las Vegas here. Last night, I walked up to a little mini-mall on the boardwalk, in front of Ceasars, and had dinner at an "Irish pub"called "the Trinity," which supposedly was disassembled in Ireland and shipped over! The beer was very good, and the place was well kept and the service good; the burger was average. I missed the water show that takes place every hour on the hour in the front of the building; if I'm walking by later at the right time, I'll check it out.
But wait till you get a load of this: I'm walking through the mini-mall, and I notice these beach chairs lined up along the south side, facing the evening sun coming through the window. Palm trees are planted there, very nice, just like the beach, even down to--get this: beach sand! I watched as people carefully shook the sand off their feet, put on their sandals, and stepped back onto the polished floor of the mall. All they needed was to pipe in purified ocean water so you could dip your feet in the ocean in climate-controlled comfort.
Then there were the fires in the fireplaces--first in the pub, then in another restaurant I walked by--yes, in late July, as it's 85 and humid outside, and the insides are cooled surely below 70.
So there's one upside: the hotel here is not hectoring me with little cards about saving the planet by reusing my towels and sheets. Not that I mind resuing my towels and sheets, but the whole idea that this meaningfully helps the environment is risible.
Oh, and the homeless people are perfectly nice here--no problems.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Yardley, Pa.
Last night I stayed in Harrisburg; tonight I'll be joining my nephew and his son at a Trenton minor league baseball game--I'll be meeting them shortly.
A few yays and boos:
> Yay to Lancaster Brewing Co. in Harrisburg—good beer, good food;
> Yay to Valley Forge staff and volunteers, you did a great job!
> Boo to Pennsylvania Legisture for a strange law disallowing beer and wine sales in grocery stores;
> Boo to Philly drivers, only slightly less obnoxious than DC drivers;
> Boo to me for not planning my trip to Philadelphia better: I arrived in the city about 2 pm, got some lunch at a Malay-Thai restaurant (yay to the restaurant and dish whose names I cannot recall); then I walked over to Independence Hall--only to find it was too late for tickets for a tour.
> Boo to PA legislature for strange law about beer and wine sales.
> Yay to Starbucks in Yardley for having wi-fi;
> Boo to Starbucks for charging me $4 for two hours--I won't use the rest of my two hours, so nice for them.
A few yays and boos:
> Yay to Lancaster Brewing Co. in Harrisburg—good beer, good food;
> Yay to Valley Forge staff and volunteers, you did a great job!
> Boo to Pennsylvania Legisture for a strange law disallowing beer and wine sales in grocery stores;
> Boo to Philly drivers, only slightly less obnoxious than DC drivers;
> Boo to me for not planning my trip to Philadelphia better: I arrived in the city about 2 pm, got some lunch at a Malay-Thai restaurant (yay to the restaurant and dish whose names I cannot recall); then I walked over to Independence Hall--only to find it was too late for tickets for a tour.
> Boo to PA legislature for strange law about beer and wine sales.
> Yay to Starbucks in Yardley for having wi-fi;
> Boo to Starbucks for charging me $4 for two hours--I won't use the rest of my two hours, so nice for them.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Charleroi, PA
I'm sitting in a McDonald's, drinking a diet Coke (with lemon!), across the street from the Coyle Theater. From all appearances, the town--nestled in the Monongahelia River Valley south of Pittsburgh, just off I-70, a few miles before it becomes the dreaded Pennsylvania Turnpike--has seen better days, and the theater looks the same.
Vacation officially began as I pulled away from the rectory at St. Mary Parish around 8:30 am, after taking the 7 am Mass. This was my first stop (not counting the McD's drive-through in Piqua for coffee and a biscuit). I was rushing around the last two days, tying up the loosest ends and getting my gear together. As I drove the tedious section of I-70 through Ohio, I thought of the things I forgot, as I usually do: a hat and a small cooler. Oh well.
Where am I headed, you ask? Ah, well, let's say I'm headed somewhere east of here. I plan to see some sights, see some family and friends, and spend a few days on the beach. I brought along plenty to read and I'm more grateful than you can imagine that my parochial vicar, the retired priest, and the staff all have things well in hand. If they can't handle it, I wouldn't be able to, either!
Vacation officially began as I pulled away from the rectory at St. Mary Parish around 8:30 am, after taking the 7 am Mass. This was my first stop (not counting the McD's drive-through in Piqua for coffee and a biscuit). I was rushing around the last two days, tying up the loosest ends and getting my gear together. As I drove the tedious section of I-70 through Ohio, I thought of the things I forgot, as I usually do: a hat and a small cooler. Oh well.
Where am I headed, you ask? Ah, well, let's say I'm headed somewhere east of here. I plan to see some sights, see some family and friends, and spend a few days on the beach. I brought along plenty to read and I'm more grateful than you can imagine that my parochial vicar, the retired priest, and the staff all have things well in hand. If they can't handle it, I wouldn't be able to, either!
'The Eucharist takes you' (Sunday homily)
As I reflected on this Gospel, I thought of this question,
which I'll share with you for your reflection:
Why does this miracle, of all the miracles described in the Gospels, so lift our hearts?
It certainly captured the imagination of the early church,
because this is one of the few miracles of the Lord described in all four Gospels,
and always in great detail.
My first thought was that we can identify with this more than other miracles:
unless we've been desperately sick, we may not identify with a healing;
but everyone has felt the pangs of hunger, and had the joy of someone providing food.
In this miracle, we see our God reaching down and providing food for us.
This miracle is not the Eucharist, but it points to it.
Did you notice the twelve baskets? Twelve apostles!
This shows the Lord teaching and preparing the Apostles;
it's as if he is saying, "You will be the ones who will provide my people with the Eucharist."
Remember, the Lord Jesus did not provide the Eucharist
to anyone but the Apostles, on the night before he died.
They would celebrate the Eucharist and provide his Body and Blood to God's People.
We think of the Eucharist as something we take;
but it's actually the other way around: it is the Eucharist that takes us.
Jesus the Eucharist calls to us; not everyone hears that call, not everyone answers it;
but you have heard it--that's why you are here.
He seeks us, to take us, and make us part of himself.
This is why the Church has its rules about the Eucharist:
> Fasting from all food for a full hour before receiving the Eucharist;
> Being in a state of grace--no mortal sins unconfessed;
> Being in full union with the Church as a member.
It's not about the rules for their own sake, but because Christ seeks to take us, entirely,
to himself; and the question is, are we ready to be taken and transformed?
I say these words, and they are a condemnation of myself!
I live in my own skin, and know my sins very well--how far I am from that.
So I confess my sins, and I rely on him to take me as I am,
and transform me into himself.
In a moment, bread and wine will go to the altar;
I invite you to place yourself with the bread and wine;
you will see me, but it will be Christ who takes the bread and wine,
and it will be his words, transforming them into his Body and Blood.
Allow him to take you and transform you!
He calls you; you felt it and you are here: Give him all of yourself.
which I'll share with you for your reflection:
Why does this miracle, of all the miracles described in the Gospels, so lift our hearts?
It certainly captured the imagination of the early church,
because this is one of the few miracles of the Lord described in all four Gospels,
and always in great detail.
My first thought was that we can identify with this more than other miracles:
unless we've been desperately sick, we may not identify with a healing;
but everyone has felt the pangs of hunger, and had the joy of someone providing food.
In this miracle, we see our God reaching down and providing food for us.
This miracle is not the Eucharist, but it points to it.
Did you notice the twelve baskets? Twelve apostles!
This shows the Lord teaching and preparing the Apostles;
it's as if he is saying, "You will be the ones who will provide my people with the Eucharist."
Remember, the Lord Jesus did not provide the Eucharist
to anyone but the Apostles, on the night before he died.
They would celebrate the Eucharist and provide his Body and Blood to God's People.
We think of the Eucharist as something we take;
but it's actually the other way around: it is the Eucharist that takes us.
Jesus the Eucharist calls to us; not everyone hears that call, not everyone answers it;
but you have heard it--that's why you are here.
He seeks us, to take us, and make us part of himself.
This is why the Church has its rules about the Eucharist:
> Fasting from all food for a full hour before receiving the Eucharist;
> Being in a state of grace--no mortal sins unconfessed;
> Being in full union with the Church as a member.
It's not about the rules for their own sake, but because Christ seeks to take us, entirely,
to himself; and the question is, are we ready to be taken and transformed?
I say these words, and they are a condemnation of myself!
I live in my own skin, and know my sins very well--how far I am from that.
So I confess my sins, and I rely on him to take me as I am,
and transform me into himself.
In a moment, bread and wine will go to the altar;
I invite you to place yourself with the bread and wine;
you will see me, but it will be Christ who takes the bread and wine,
and it will be his words, transforming them into his Body and Blood.
Allow him to take you and transform you!
He calls you; you felt it and you are here: Give him all of yourself.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Introduction to Romans, continued…
For those interested, here is some more introductory material I presented to the Bible study I lead each week...
Makeup of the Roman Church: scholars spend a lot of time discussing whether it was predominantly Jewish or Gentile. Paul clearly is addressing both. Remember also the problem of Gentiles who were being influenced to embrace circumcision and the full, Jewish ritual law. That is a big issue in the early Church, it shows up in Acts and in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians—which is often paired with Romans because of the emphasis on “justification apart from works of the law.” But other themes in Romans line up with other writings: Paul addresses the unity of Jew and Gentile—a theme that is prominent in Ephesians, for example.
Influence of this Letter…can hardly be overstated. It figures prominently in much Protestant theology: because of the emphasis on justification. Martin Luther said that the Church “stands or falls” on his understanding of “the doctrine of justification by faith.” As the introductory comments in the Catholic Study Bible say,
It is the longest and most systematic unfolding of the apostle’s thought, expounding the gospel of God’s righteousness that saves all who believe; it reflects a universal outlook, with special implications for Israel’s relation to the church.
If you have ever heard Billy Graham preach, you’ve heard a restatement of much of what Paul says in Romans:
(1) all humanity is lost without God;
(2) God has acted to save humanity, ultimately in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ;
(3) we must put faith in Christ to be delivered from God’s wrath;
(4) becoming a Christian means living a new life.
If you need a really simple outline for Romans, that will due to start. But let’s look again at this, after we’ve gone through the letter.
So much has Protestant Christianity embraced Romans, especially its language, that many Catholics may feel uncertain how to approach this. Romans talks about being “justified by faith,” and we cite the Letter from James, “faith without works is dead.” Scott Hahn, a Presbyterian minister who is now an energetic Catholic writer, especially on Scripture, counters, “wait a minute: Romans is a ‘home game’ for Catholics!” The key is to understand what Paul really means about “justification,” “faith” and “works.”
We also want to remember that the divide between Protestant and Catholic that we have inherited was not only a product of the leaders of the Reformation taking a different, theological direction, but also a fair amount of misunderstanding and combativeness and pride—on both sides. Also, once a new movement had begun, both Protestant and Catholic began defining themselves as “not-them”—sharpening the differences.
Only in recent years has ecumenism borne fruit in letting go of some of that, and discovering that the real differences need not be so great. An important instance of that—which we’ll talk about—is formal discussions between Catholic and Lutheran leaders, and less formally, discussions among Catholics and Evangelicals: resulting in a Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification between the Catholic Church and the World Lutheran Federation, and then a couple of documents produced by a group called “Evangelicals and Catholics Together.” We’ll take a closer look at that as we go along.
Makeup of the Roman Church: scholars spend a lot of time discussing whether it was predominantly Jewish or Gentile. Paul clearly is addressing both. Remember also the problem of Gentiles who were being influenced to embrace circumcision and the full, Jewish ritual law. That is a big issue in the early Church, it shows up in Acts and in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians—which is often paired with Romans because of the emphasis on “justification apart from works of the law.” But other themes in Romans line up with other writings: Paul addresses the unity of Jew and Gentile—a theme that is prominent in Ephesians, for example.
Influence of this Letter…can hardly be overstated. It figures prominently in much Protestant theology: because of the emphasis on justification. Martin Luther said that the Church “stands or falls” on his understanding of “the doctrine of justification by faith.” As the introductory comments in the Catholic Study Bible say,
It is the longest and most systematic unfolding of the apostle’s thought, expounding the gospel of God’s righteousness that saves all who believe; it reflects a universal outlook, with special implications for Israel’s relation to the church.
If you have ever heard Billy Graham preach, you’ve heard a restatement of much of what Paul says in Romans:
(1) all humanity is lost without God;
(2) God has acted to save humanity, ultimately in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ;
(3) we must put faith in Christ to be delivered from God’s wrath;
(4) becoming a Christian means living a new life.
If you need a really simple outline for Romans, that will due to start. But let’s look again at this, after we’ve gone through the letter.
So much has Protestant Christianity embraced Romans, especially its language, that many Catholics may feel uncertain how to approach this. Romans talks about being “justified by faith,” and we cite the Letter from James, “faith without works is dead.” Scott Hahn, a Presbyterian minister who is now an energetic Catholic writer, especially on Scripture, counters, “wait a minute: Romans is a ‘home game’ for Catholics!” The key is to understand what Paul really means about “justification,” “faith” and “works.”
We also want to remember that the divide between Protestant and Catholic that we have inherited was not only a product of the leaders of the Reformation taking a different, theological direction, but also a fair amount of misunderstanding and combativeness and pride—on both sides. Also, once a new movement had begun, both Protestant and Catholic began defining themselves as “not-them”—sharpening the differences.
Only in recent years has ecumenism borne fruit in letting go of some of that, and discovering that the real differences need not be so great. An important instance of that—which we’ll talk about—is formal discussions between Catholic and Lutheran leaders, and less formally, discussions among Catholics and Evangelicals: resulting in a Joint Declaration on the Doctrine of Justification between the Catholic Church and the World Lutheran Federation, and then a couple of documents produced by a group called “Evangelicals and Catholics Together.” We’ll take a closer look at that as we go along.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Saint Boniface Festival this weekend
Y'all come!
Tomorrow night we have Father Caserta's famous and delectible spaghetti and meatball dinner, Sunday we have barbeque chicken; we have fun and games for all ages, live music Saturday and Sunday, and rides rides rides!
Tonight till 11; tomorrow 5-11; Sunday Noon till 9 pm.
See you there!
Tomorrow night we have Father Caserta's famous and delectible spaghetti and meatball dinner, Sunday we have barbeque chicken; we have fun and games for all ages, live music Saturday and Sunday, and rides rides rides!
Tonight till 11; tomorrow 5-11; Sunday Noon till 9 pm.
See you there!
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Introduction to Romans
Last night, we began a study of St. Paul's Letter to the Romans.
For some time, I've had a Bible study each Wednesday at 7 pm, and we've worked our way unhurriedly through Genesis, Exodus and Numbers and a bit of Leviticus and Deuteronomy; then we began Matthew, then Acts, which we just finished; and now the Letter to the Romans.
You may laugh, but this is still part of our "year of St. Paul" observance; it took almost a year to get through Acts, and folks wanted to do one of St. Paul's epistles, so Romans seemed as good a choice as any.
I'm looking forward to it, because it's a bit of a challenge; this is different sort of Biblical literature from narrative, which is what I find most enjoyable to read together with folks.
My approach is as follows: take your time reading the text--what's the hurry? I would love to be able to get into the Hebrew or Greek text, but I don't know Hebrew and I have only a little acquaintance with Greek; and in any case, there simply isn't time each week to do that much preparation. I do what I can to look at commentaries, but I say again: simply read the text, line by line. Yes, there is much more you could learn, but you'll still learn a great deal. This works especially well, as I said, with narrative portions--where the author is telling a story. It isn't so simple with other Biblical literature, and this will be more of a challenge.
What follows is the text of the handout I prepared for folks as some background on Romans--we covered this last night.
Letter to the Romans
When did Paul write it? Probably around AD 57-58, while he was on his way to Jerusalem, to bring a collection he had taken up through many churches in “Asia”—i.e., present-day Turkey.
Paul intended to visit Rome after his trip to Jerusalem; the Acts of the Apostles tells us that, as Paul neared Jerusalem, he began to realize he would face trials in Jerusalem.
Why doesn’t Paul mention Peter? Paul doesn’t mention St. Peter, yet no one seriously disputes Peter came to Rome. Yet Peter may not have planted the church; it might have been visitors to Jerusalem, mentioned in Acts 2, who heard Peter preach on Pentecost.
The New Jerome Biblical Commentary says Peter probably arrived later in the 50s, as he was still in Jerusalem in AD 49 for the council described in Acts 15. On the other hand, Eusebius and St. Jerome tell us Peter arrived in Rome around the beginning of the reign of Claudius, thus AD 42, which would be well after Paul and Peter met in Jerusalem the first time as described in Galatians. In AD 49, Claudius ordered “the Jews” out of Rome because of riots caused by “Chrestus.” This is often taken to mean disputes among the Jews over Christ; and the Romans might easily have lumped them together. So perhaps Peter left Rome at that time, and thus was in Jerusalem for the council.
If so, when did Peter return? Claudius died in AD 54, perhaps Peter didn’t come back until then, when Jews were permitted back. Perhaps Peter didn’t come back until after Paul wrote his letter. Insofar as Paul had spent several years away from Jerusalem, in Asia Minor, when he wrote his letter, he may have supposed Peter wasn’t there.
Certainly many will make hay of this, and say the Church’s claims about Peter are unfounded. However, we have abundant evidence of Peter’s connection to Rome, beginning with the first letter of Peter, where he writes, “she who is in Babylon greets you”—Babylon being a frequent code for Rome, as in Revelation. Many, many writings from the early Church all speak of Peter’s connection to Rome; why would they make it up? There would be no motive for doing so until many centuries later. Archeological evidence also supports it. Tradition told us about the tomb of Peter, and the tomb discovered beneath the basilica—erected by Emperor Constantine over the site Christians continually venerated as Peter’s grave—was precisely where tradition said it was, and it matched the description handed down. Why would anyone at that time falsely claim Peter’s grave was in Rome? To what end?
The literary form of the epistle. Scholars sometimes make a distinction between a “letter” and an “epistle,” the former being private, personal and non-literary, written freely the way we write a lot of personal correspondence, and an “epistle” being a more conscious literary form, carefully composed and intended as a for publication. Of course, that’s a distinction scholars, centuries later, discerned; we don’t know if such careful distinctions were always made at the time, including by Paul.
Either way, both a formal “epistle” and the informal “letter” used the same basic format: an opening sentence in which the sender greets the recipient in a stylized way: e.g., Romans 1:1-7. Then the body of the letter, which is the message conveyed. Then a “goodbye”: see the end of Romans 16. Many ancient letters also included a “thanksgiving” which came at the beginning. Jewish letters of the time, even in Aramaic or Hebrew, followed a similar form, with a blessing instead of a thanksgiving. Paul’s letters have the features of both Greco-Roman and Jewish letters.
Paul is known for wishing his hearers “grace and peace”: charis kai eirene. Charis also conveys the Old Testament idea of covenant favor, and eirene is the Greek word used in the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24-26. Of course, charis is a key theme in Paul’s preaching, especially in Romans 5.
The same scholar, G.A. Deissmann, who argued the distinction between “letter” and “epistle,” classed Paul’s writings as letters, the position of Rev. Joseph Fitzmyer, writing in the NJBC—they were written for specific occasions, often in haste, and often written independent of each other. Yet Paul rarely wrote his letters as a private individual, but as an apostle.
Paul also often brought into his letters other texts or hymns which scholars believe he knew about from the spiritual practice of the early Church, and OT texts as well.
Who actually penned the letter? As is true now, people often have help to put a letter onto paper; it was the same in Paul’s time. In antiquity, if one didn’t pen the letter oneself, one would dictate, either word-for-word, or the sense was dictated, leaving the formulation to the secretary. Finally, sometimes one had someone else write a letter in ones name, but not directing the content. Note: all these things still happen today. Most often, in antiquity, the letter writer either penned it himself, or dictated the general content, not word-for-word. (This is common sense, as method two would be very tiring.) Many things in Paul’s letter suggest he dictated, sometimes adding a greeting in his own hand. This might also explain differences in style among the letters of Paul, that lead many scholars to question whether he authored a number of them.
Why is Romans first among Paul’s letters? Some point out the letters are in order of length; that’s true until you get to 1 Timothy. We do know that the Church in Rome exerted great influence over the development of the early church, and it may have been natural for Roman Christians to put their letter first! And it does seem a natural connection to the conclusion of Acts. But they are not listed in the order they were composed.
Drawn from the New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Prentice Hall, 1990.
For some time, I've had a Bible study each Wednesday at 7 pm, and we've worked our way unhurriedly through Genesis, Exodus and Numbers and a bit of Leviticus and Deuteronomy; then we began Matthew, then Acts, which we just finished; and now the Letter to the Romans.
You may laugh, but this is still part of our "year of St. Paul" observance; it took almost a year to get through Acts, and folks wanted to do one of St. Paul's epistles, so Romans seemed as good a choice as any.
I'm looking forward to it, because it's a bit of a challenge; this is different sort of Biblical literature from narrative, which is what I find most enjoyable to read together with folks.
My approach is as follows: take your time reading the text--what's the hurry? I would love to be able to get into the Hebrew or Greek text, but I don't know Hebrew and I have only a little acquaintance with Greek; and in any case, there simply isn't time each week to do that much preparation. I do what I can to look at commentaries, but I say again: simply read the text, line by line. Yes, there is much more you could learn, but you'll still learn a great deal. This works especially well, as I said, with narrative portions--where the author is telling a story. It isn't so simple with other Biblical literature, and this will be more of a challenge.
What follows is the text of the handout I prepared for folks as some background on Romans--we covered this last night.
Letter to the Romans
When did Paul write it? Probably around AD 57-58, while he was on his way to Jerusalem, to bring a collection he had taken up through many churches in “Asia”—i.e., present-day Turkey.
Paul intended to visit Rome after his trip to Jerusalem; the Acts of the Apostles tells us that, as Paul neared Jerusalem, he began to realize he would face trials in Jerusalem.
Why doesn’t Paul mention Peter? Paul doesn’t mention St. Peter, yet no one seriously disputes Peter came to Rome. Yet Peter may not have planted the church; it might have been visitors to Jerusalem, mentioned in Acts 2, who heard Peter preach on Pentecost.
The New Jerome Biblical Commentary says Peter probably arrived later in the 50s, as he was still in Jerusalem in AD 49 for the council described in Acts 15. On the other hand, Eusebius and St. Jerome tell us Peter arrived in Rome around the beginning of the reign of Claudius, thus AD 42, which would be well after Paul and Peter met in Jerusalem the first time as described in Galatians. In AD 49, Claudius ordered “the Jews” out of Rome because of riots caused by “Chrestus.” This is often taken to mean disputes among the Jews over Christ; and the Romans might easily have lumped them together. So perhaps Peter left Rome at that time, and thus was in Jerusalem for the council.
If so, when did Peter return? Claudius died in AD 54, perhaps Peter didn’t come back until then, when Jews were permitted back. Perhaps Peter didn’t come back until after Paul wrote his letter. Insofar as Paul had spent several years away from Jerusalem, in Asia Minor, when he wrote his letter, he may have supposed Peter wasn’t there.
Certainly many will make hay of this, and say the Church’s claims about Peter are unfounded. However, we have abundant evidence of Peter’s connection to Rome, beginning with the first letter of Peter, where he writes, “she who is in Babylon greets you”—Babylon being a frequent code for Rome, as in Revelation. Many, many writings from the early Church all speak of Peter’s connection to Rome; why would they make it up? There would be no motive for doing so until many centuries later. Archeological evidence also supports it. Tradition told us about the tomb of Peter, and the tomb discovered beneath the basilica—erected by Emperor Constantine over the site Christians continually venerated as Peter’s grave—was precisely where tradition said it was, and it matched the description handed down. Why would anyone at that time falsely claim Peter’s grave was in Rome? To what end?
The literary form of the epistle. Scholars sometimes make a distinction between a “letter” and an “epistle,” the former being private, personal and non-literary, written freely the way we write a lot of personal correspondence, and an “epistle” being a more conscious literary form, carefully composed and intended as a for publication. Of course, that’s a distinction scholars, centuries later, discerned; we don’t know if such careful distinctions were always made at the time, including by Paul.
Either way, both a formal “epistle” and the informal “letter” used the same basic format: an opening sentence in which the sender greets the recipient in a stylized way: e.g., Romans 1:1-7. Then the body of the letter, which is the message conveyed. Then a “goodbye”: see the end of Romans 16. Many ancient letters also included a “thanksgiving” which came at the beginning. Jewish letters of the time, even in Aramaic or Hebrew, followed a similar form, with a blessing instead of a thanksgiving. Paul’s letters have the features of both Greco-Roman and Jewish letters.
Paul is known for wishing his hearers “grace and peace”: charis kai eirene. Charis also conveys the Old Testament idea of covenant favor, and eirene is the Greek word used in the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24-26. Of course, charis is a key theme in Paul’s preaching, especially in Romans 5.
The same scholar, G.A. Deissmann, who argued the distinction between “letter” and “epistle,” classed Paul’s writings as letters, the position of Rev. Joseph Fitzmyer, writing in the NJBC—they were written for specific occasions, often in haste, and often written independent of each other. Yet Paul rarely wrote his letters as a private individual, but as an apostle.
Paul also often brought into his letters other texts or hymns which scholars believe he knew about from the spiritual practice of the early Church, and OT texts as well.
Who actually penned the letter? As is true now, people often have help to put a letter onto paper; it was the same in Paul’s time. In antiquity, if one didn’t pen the letter oneself, one would dictate, either word-for-word, or the sense was dictated, leaving the formulation to the secretary. Finally, sometimes one had someone else write a letter in ones name, but not directing the content. Note: all these things still happen today. Most often, in antiquity, the letter writer either penned it himself, or dictated the general content, not word-for-word. (This is common sense, as method two would be very tiring.) Many things in Paul’s letter suggest he dictated, sometimes adding a greeting in his own hand. This might also explain differences in style among the letters of Paul, that lead many scholars to question whether he authored a number of them.
Why is Romans first among Paul’s letters? Some point out the letters are in order of length; that’s true until you get to 1 Timothy. We do know that the Church in Rome exerted great influence over the development of the early church, and it may have been natural for Roman Christians to put their letter first! And it does seem a natural connection to the conclusion of Acts. But they are not listed in the order they were composed.
Drawn from the New Jerome Biblical Commentary, Prentice Hall, 1990.
Monday, July 13, 2009
At the Dayton Catholic Homeschool Conference
As mentioned a few days ago, I was one of several speakers last Saturday at the Dayton Catholic Homeschool Conference at St. Peter Church in Huber Heights.
I enjoyed it immensely, although I was rather concerned, as the end of the week drew nigh, whether I'd run out of time to prepare my talks. As it happened, everything seemed to go well.
The day started with Mass, with Archbishop Dennis Schnurr as the principal celebrant. With the addition of a children's choir, many concelebrants and a lot of energetic folks, this was no ordinary Saturday morning Mass!
Then Father Earl Simone, pastor of St. Peter, had a nice breakfast for the Archbishop and the clergy; the main thing was so the Archbishop could get acquainted with the homeschool association; I was merely along for the ride, and enjoyed a pretty fancy breakfast!
Father Earl Fernandes, Academic Dean of Mount Saint Mary Seminary of the West (our archdiocesan seminary)--and a good friend from seminary--and I were trading friendly jibes over cups of coffee; insofar as my talk and his were at the same time, I hoped he wouldn't feel too badly about no one coming to his talk. Well, we were having some coffee when it dawned on us that maybe the Archbishop--who had left--was about to make his remarks, and it wouldn't do for us to miss that! We didn't, thankfully.
Anyway, I had two talks, which I'll post shortly. One was for parents, on equipping children with spiritual armor, and the other was for the teens, on social justice, and how we must be God's "not-so-secret agents" in pursuing social justice. I was so encouraged by the fathers who were present, and the teens. After the latter talk, I had one boy, who I think was about 16, very respectfully question part of my interpretation of the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man; good for him!
I enjoyed it immensely, although I was rather concerned, as the end of the week drew nigh, whether I'd run out of time to prepare my talks. As it happened, everything seemed to go well.
The day started with Mass, with Archbishop Dennis Schnurr as the principal celebrant. With the addition of a children's choir, many concelebrants and a lot of energetic folks, this was no ordinary Saturday morning Mass!
Then Father Earl Simone, pastor of St. Peter, had a nice breakfast for the Archbishop and the clergy; the main thing was so the Archbishop could get acquainted with the homeschool association; I was merely along for the ride, and enjoyed a pretty fancy breakfast!
Father Earl Fernandes, Academic Dean of Mount Saint Mary Seminary of the West (our archdiocesan seminary)--and a good friend from seminary--and I were trading friendly jibes over cups of coffee; insofar as my talk and his were at the same time, I hoped he wouldn't feel too badly about no one coming to his talk. Well, we were having some coffee when it dawned on us that maybe the Archbishop--who had left--was about to make his remarks, and it wouldn't do for us to miss that! We didn't, thankfully.
Anyway, I had two talks, which I'll post shortly. One was for parents, on equipping children with spiritual armor, and the other was for the teens, on social justice, and how we must be God's "not-so-secret agents" in pursuing social justice. I was so encouraged by the fathers who were present, and the teens. After the latter talk, I had one boy, who I think was about 16, very respectfully question part of my interpretation of the story of Lazarus and the Rich Man; good for him!
'Social Justice: Being God's not-so-secret agent'
(These are notes--I actually did this in a more dialogical fashion, but you can't tell that so clearly from these notes...)
First, I want to commend you…it's summer, and Saturday, and you're here!
Second, a lot of people think they don’t know anything about the Church’s teaching on social justice, but I am willing to bet you know more than you realize. Let’s see if I’m right…
1. Let’s start with this question: what is "justice"? St. Thomas Aquinas said, "to each man his due.’
2. What do we mean when we talk about social justice?
It’s not just about what’s due an individual, but also what’s due individuals-in-society.
What is the danger if we forget about the social aspect? What happens if you only look for justice concerning the individual?
How about this example. Later today, you go to a restaurant, or the store—you buy food and eat it. Have you done anything wrong?
Ø add: someone else in your community is starving. Lazarus and the Rich Man: what happened to the Rich Man? (He went to hell.) Why? (Not because he didn’t do enough, but because he didn’t do anything.
I.e., here is a case where from the standpoint of individual justice, what did you do wrong? And yet—there is a broader question of concern for more than your own individual actions.
Application: between 10-15% of folks are out of work; many more have not enough work. You’re working at a good job, good pay and benefits—while someone else has no work at all. Someone offers a plan to reduce wages and hours, so more can work; but the union blocks it. Are you the Rich Man to that man’s Lazarus? If cutting wages or hours might have ensured more people keep their jobs, maybe you are.
Now, that example raises a couple of issues associate with the Church’s social teaching, did you notice?
Unions…
What do you think the Church says about unions?
Ø People have a right to form or associate with unions—Rerum Novarum, Pope Leo XIII.
Ø Unions should be about advancing the good of working people but not at the expense of others’ legitimate rights and the common good
Ø Catholics should not affiliate with unions if they aren’t compatible with Catholic teaching in general.
What the Church does not say about unions:
Ø That working people must belong to them.
Ø That unions are always right or should always prevail.
Ø That unions should be about employee versus employer: Pope Leo suggested the possibility of unions including employers—what idea was he trying to cultivate there?
Solidarity: i.e., yes, I am my brother’s keeper.
Related to this is the "common good." The idea is that sometimes I have to ask, not just what’s good for me, but what’s good for…us.
Let’s go back to that example: you go buy food in the store. You pay for it. You eat it. But you decided to buy some extra food and drop it off at the food pantry on the way home: you remembered the poor man, Lazarus.
Now, are you finished thinking about "justice" in this case?
Ø What about the workers who produced the food or brought it to you?
Ø What about the way the food was produced—care for the natural environment?
The workers involved in bringing this food to you are entitled to a fair wage and just working conditions—did they have the ability to negotiate and bargain collectively if they wanted to?
Here’s something to think about, but you may not want to…
You hear about food contamination now and then, including produce.
Do you ever wonder if those who pick the food are provided a bathroom? See the connection?
The common good refers to the "sum total" of all that is good for people—some of those things are "indivisible" and we only have them together.
Examples of good things that are indivisible—we can only have them together:
Some things theoretically could be had in a solitary way, but practically, we don’t:
Most of the products we use or consume
Most of the services we rely on
Art
Nature
Health care
Some things we simply cannot have in a solitary way:
Communication
Parties
Love
Also, one of the key points here is that many good things aren’t reducible to a dollar value—yet they are important to a good life:
Family
Faith
Common concern
OK, that’s a brief picture of the Church’s teaching on Social Justice—now let’s talk about being God’s "not so secret" agent.
Here’s the thing: when you talk about social justice, when you work for it, can you see how God could be left out?
Ø Environment—worship of nature; humanity is not primary
Ø Rights of workers—power & greed; economics above all
Ø Enough food for people—people are the problem
Ø Health care—rationing; illicit methods of research and treatment; people are the problem.
Question: why do we make the world a better place?
(I.e., what’s God got to do with it?)
If we’re not careful, we lose sight of…heaven.
Question: So why don’t we just focus on heaven? Who cares what this life is like?
Because this world is preparation for heaven or hell. We need a good life—"good" understood the right way (moral good, enhancing human dignity)—here, to help us gain the good life forever.
Suffering helps us, but it isn’t itself a final good: we don’t look forward to suffering in heaven.
Prosperity is good; but not a final good—our Catholic Faith teaches us that we can and should enjoy the good things of life, but not to make them our gods.
One of the hallmarks of Christianity is that it goes out of its way both to share the Gospel, but also to help the poor, and to improve the quality of life. Can you think of examples?
Ø Hospitals. Hospitals predated Christianity and occur outside Christendom: the Romans had hospitals for slaves, gladiators and soldiers, and we have evidence of hospitals in ancient Persia and India. But the Council of Nicea, among other things, called for hospitals to be established in every cathedral city. Later, they were staffed by religious orders, right up until very recently. Only in recent times have Catholic hospitals started to disappear, because of the collapse of the religious orders and rising costs.
Ø Slavery. It was widespread and considered normal in pagan society; it all but died out during Christendom, being revived—how, when? At the time of the "renaissance"—it means rebirth, rebirth of what? The rebirth of pre-Christian ideas and values! Also, the return of slavery was driven by greed and conquest, outside of Christian Europe. Eventually, it was eradicated, to a large degree as a result of folks motivated by their Christian faith. And by the way, the Church repeatedly condemned slavery and the slave trade, but the politicians and well-connected of those days ignored the Church’s "interference"—sound familiar?
Ø Civil Rights
Ø Working conditions
Ø Child labor
So keeping God connected keeps it truly human; and keeping God connected makes sure we have eternity in view.
In other words, you and I have to be the "salt"—and the "light":
Salt: we are the ones who keep this from going down the wrong path:
Medicine => human sacrifice
Improving living standards => anti human—contraceptive mentality
Environment => anti human – we’re a "virus"; world better off without us!
(Fill in the rest)
Economics =>
Workers rights =>
Civil rights =>
Light: we keep Christ in view so we draw people to Christ.
Our Gospel isn’t credible if we don’t care about people; but we haven’t evangelized if we only give food that perishes.
Get involved in social justice—but do it so that we are happy in this life in preparation for eternal happiness.
Finally, if for no other reason than this. Abp Chaput, commenting on sheep and goats passage (Matthew 25): "if we forget the poor, we go to hell."
Social Justice: being God’s not-so-secret agent
Key Principles:
1. Human dignity and true identity: made in God’s image, living in communion.
2. Justice is "to each man his due"; social justice means it’s not just about individuals.
3. Solidarity: we’re all in this together.
4. Common Good: not just what’s good for me, but good for us.
5. Without Jesus Christ, "social justice" becomes idolatry. What may begin as exalting humanity eventually degrades us.
6. Without concern for justice and dignity, our preaching of the Gospel fails.
Key Questions for you:
1. How do I keep a clear distinction between the bedrock truths of social justice, and the various ways to apply them, whether in individual, collective, or governmental action? What’s "negotiable" and what’s "non-negotiable?"
2. How do I keep Jesus Christ front and center in all the social justice activity I take part in? What about when we cooperate with non-Christians?
3. What do I say to those who think all the issues are equally important?
4. Should I get involved in politics, and if so, how do I keep my soul?
5. What change can I bring about, even in a small way, on my own?
Additional Resources:
Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, 2004. Available online at: http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/justpeace/documents/rc_pc_justpeace_doc_20060526_compendio-dott-soc_en.html.
Caritas in Veritate, Pope Benedict XVI, 2009. Available online at: http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/encyclicals/documents/hf_ben-xvi_enc_20090629_caritas-in-veritate_en.html.
Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty. 161 Ottawa Ave. NW, Suite 301
Grand Rapids, MI 49503; (800) 345-2286. Internet: www.acton.org E-mail: info@acton.org.
Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Catholic Social Action Office. 100 East 8th Street, Cincinnati, OH 45202. (513) 421-3131 ext. 2660. Email: csa@catholicsocialaction.org.
Dayton Office: 266 Bainbridge Street, Dayton, OH 45402; (937) 224-3026. Email: csadayton@catholicsocialaction.org. Internet: http://www.catholiccincinnati.org/socialaction/.
First, I want to commend you…it's summer, and Saturday, and you're here!
Second, a lot of people think they don’t know anything about the Church’s teaching on social justice, but I am willing to bet you know more than you realize. Let’s see if I’m right…
1. Let’s start with this question: what is "justice"? St. Thomas Aquinas said, "to each man his due.’
2. What do we mean when we talk about social justice?
It’s not just about what’s due an individual, but also what’s due individuals-in-society.
What is the danger if we forget about the social aspect? What happens if you only look for justice concerning the individual?
How about this example. Later today, you go to a restaurant, or the store—you buy food and eat it. Have you done anything wrong?
Ø add: someone else in your community is starving. Lazarus and the Rich Man: what happened to the Rich Man? (He went to hell.) Why? (Not because he didn’t do enough, but because he didn’t do anything.
I.e., here is a case where from the standpoint of individual justice, what did you do wrong? And yet—there is a broader question of concern for more than your own individual actions.
Application: between 10-15% of folks are out of work; many more have not enough work. You’re working at a good job, good pay and benefits—while someone else has no work at all. Someone offers a plan to reduce wages and hours, so more can work; but the union blocks it. Are you the Rich Man to that man’s Lazarus? If cutting wages or hours might have ensured more people keep their jobs, maybe you are.
Now, that example raises a couple of issues associate with the Church’s social teaching, did you notice?
Unions…
What do you think the Church says about unions?
Ø People have a right to form or associate with unions—Rerum Novarum, Pope Leo XIII.
Ø Unions should be about advancing the good of working people but not at the expense of others’ legitimate rights and the common good
Ø Catholics should not affiliate with unions if they aren’t compatible with Catholic teaching in general.
What the Church does not say about unions:
Ø That working people must belong to them.
Ø That unions are always right or should always prevail.
Ø That unions should be about employee versus employer: Pope Leo suggested the possibility of unions including employers—what idea was he trying to cultivate there?
Solidarity: i.e., yes, I am my brother’s keeper.
Related to this is the "common good." The idea is that sometimes I have to ask, not just what’s good for me, but what’s good for…us.
Let’s go back to that example: you go buy food in the store. You pay for it. You eat it. But you decided to buy some extra food and drop it off at the food pantry on the way home: you remembered the poor man, Lazarus.
Now, are you finished thinking about "justice" in this case?
Ø What about the workers who produced the food or brought it to you?
Ø What about the way the food was produced—care for the natural environment?
The workers involved in bringing this food to you are entitled to a fair wage and just working conditions—did they have the ability to negotiate and bargain collectively if they wanted to?
Here’s something to think about, but you may not want to…
You hear about food contamination now and then, including produce.
Do you ever wonder if those who pick the food are provided a bathroom? See the connection?
The common good refers to the "sum total" of all that is good for people—some of those things are "indivisible" and we only have them together.
Examples of good things that are indivisible—we can only have them together:
Some things theoretically could be had in a solitary way, but practically, we don’t:
Most of the products we use or consume
Most of the services we rely on
Art
Nature
Health care
Some things we simply cannot have in a solitary way:
Communication
Parties
Love
Also, one of the key points here is that many good things aren’t reducible to a dollar value—yet they are important to a good life:
Family
Faith
Common concern
OK, that’s a brief picture of the Church’s teaching on Social Justice—now let’s talk about being God’s "not so secret" agent.
Here’s the thing: when you talk about social justice, when you work for it, can you see how God could be left out?
Ø Environment—worship of nature; humanity is not primary
Ø Rights of workers—power & greed; economics above all
Ø Enough food for people—people are the problem
Ø Health care—rationing; illicit methods of research and treatment; people are the problem.
Question: why do we make the world a better place?
(I.e., what’s God got to do with it?)
If we’re not careful, we lose sight of…heaven.
Question: So why don’t we just focus on heaven? Who cares what this life is like?
Because this world is preparation for heaven or hell. We need a good life—"good" understood the right way (moral good, enhancing human dignity)—here, to help us gain the good life forever.
Suffering helps us, but it isn’t itself a final good: we don’t look forward to suffering in heaven.
Prosperity is good; but not a final good—our Catholic Faith teaches us that we can and should enjoy the good things of life, but not to make them our gods.
One of the hallmarks of Christianity is that it goes out of its way both to share the Gospel, but also to help the poor, and to improve the quality of life. Can you think of examples?
Ø Hospitals. Hospitals predated Christianity and occur outside Christendom: the Romans had hospitals for slaves, gladiators and soldiers, and we have evidence of hospitals in ancient Persia and India. But the Council of Nicea, among other things, called for hospitals to be established in every cathedral city. Later, they were staffed by religious orders, right up until very recently. Only in recent times have Catholic hospitals started to disappear, because of the collapse of the religious orders and rising costs.
Ø Slavery. It was widespread and considered normal in pagan society; it all but died out during Christendom, being revived—how, when? At the time of the "renaissance"—it means rebirth, rebirth of what? The rebirth of pre-Christian ideas and values! Also, the return of slavery was driven by greed and conquest, outside of Christian Europe. Eventually, it was eradicated, to a large degree as a result of folks motivated by their Christian faith. And by the way, the Church repeatedly condemned slavery and the slave trade, but the politicians and well-connected of those days ignored the Church’s "interference"—sound familiar?
Ø Civil Rights
Ø Working conditions
Ø Child labor
So keeping God connected keeps it truly human; and keeping God connected makes sure we have eternity in view.
In other words, you and I have to be the "salt"—and the "light":
Salt: we are the ones who keep this from going down the wrong path:
Medicine => human sacrifice
Improving living standards => anti human—contraceptive mentality
Environment => anti human – we’re a "virus"; world better off without us!
(Fill in the rest)
Economics =>
Workers rights =>
Civil rights =>
Light: we keep Christ in view so we draw people to Christ.
Our Gospel isn’t credible if we don’t care about people; but we haven’t evangelized if we only give food that perishes.
Get involved in social justice—but do it so that we are happy in this life in preparation for eternal happiness.
Finally, if for no other reason than this. Abp Chaput, commenting on sheep and goats passage (Matthew 25): "if we forget the poor, we go to hell."
Social Justice: being God’s not-so-secret agent
Key Principles:
1. Human dignity and true identity: made in God’s image, living in communion.
2. Justice is "to each man his due"; social justice means it’s not just about individuals.
3. Solidarity: we’re all in this together.
4. Common Good: not just what’s good for me, but good for us.
5. Without Jesus Christ, "social justice" becomes idolatry. What may begin as exalting humanity eventually degrades us.
6. Without concern for justice and dignity, our preaching of the Gospel fails.
Key Questions for you:
1. How do I keep a clear distinction between the bedrock truths of social justice, and the various ways to apply them, whether in individual, collective, or governmental action? What’s "negotiable" and what’s "non-negotiable?"
2. How do I keep Jesus Christ front and center in all the social justice activity I take part in? What about when we cooperate with non-Christians?
3. What do I say to those who think all the issues are equally important?
4. Should I get involved in politics, and if so, how do I keep my soul?
5. What change can I bring about, even in a small way, on my own?
Additional Resources:
Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, 2004. Available online at: http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/justpeace/documents/rc_pc_justpeace_doc_20060526_compendio-dott-soc_en.html.
Caritas in Veritate, Pope Benedict XVI, 2009. Available online at: http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/encyclicals/documents/hf_ben-xvi_enc_20090629_caritas-in-veritate_en.html.
Acton Institute for the Study of Religion and Liberty. 161 Ottawa Ave. NW, Suite 301
Grand Rapids, MI 49503; (800) 345-2286. Internet: www.acton.org E-mail: info@acton.org.
Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Catholic Social Action Office. 100 East 8th Street, Cincinnati, OH 45202. (513) 421-3131 ext. 2660. Email: csa@catholicsocialaction.org.
Dayton Office: 266 Bainbridge Street, Dayton, OH 45402; (937) 224-3026. Email: csadayton@catholicsocialaction.org. Internet: http://www.catholiccincinnati.org/socialaction/.
'Equipping your children with spiritual armor'
(We began with a reading from Ephesians 6:11-20.)
I am glad to be with you—I’ve never taken part in a conference for home-school families, although I have gotten to know several families who have their schooling at home, and I am on your side, you have my admiration!
I had a bunch more great things I was going to say about how wonderful homeschooling is, but the Archbishop stole all my good comments!
Now, let’s get to the topic at hand: equipping your children with spiritual armor.
That sounds like something they really need, doesn’t it?
This comes from St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians, a part of which we just heard. And it should be reassuring to us to remember that children needed spiritual armor just as much in his day, if not more, than they do today. We are sorely tempted to believe our times are terrible, things are as bad as ever, and still getting worse.
Remember the world St. Paul lived in:
Ø Slavery was a routine, normal state of affairs.
Ø Children were the property of the father, who could leave them to die.
Ø Watching real people really kill one another was a normal form of entertainment.
Ø Worship of false gods was everywhere—and a lot of it included sexual indecency, which was bound up with that false worship.
Ø The Emperors of Rome were known for having people murdered, for visiting brothels, orgies, pornography, and incest.
Ø This was a world without most medical treatment we take for granted, including two in particular: painkillers and antibiotics.
Worth thinking about when we complain about our bad times.
Also remember that in St. Paul’s time, only a few people were either Christians or Jews, and that few were at odds with each other.
My point is, while we may find the parallels between Paul’s world, and ours, alarming—we can also find them comforting. Not only did Christianity survive that world—that was the world in which the Church was born! We thrived in that environment!
So let’s talk about spiritual armor.
Notice the passage we heard begins with "finally"—this is the conclusion of Paul’s Letter to the Church in Ephesus. He has written about the nature of the Church, one Body, united to the Head, as the central actor in a cosmic drama; and then it’s about our dignity in Christ; and then, about how each of our roles is different because of this. So he gives guidance to couples, to parents and children, even to masters and slaves. All that, before he says, "finally…"
Facing the might of Rome—facing our world situation…
Facing a tide of immorality and cynicism and faithlessness…
Paul says, "draw your strength from…the mighty power" of the Lord!
Paul is talking about the Holy Spirit.
Remember, you made sure your children received the Holy Spirit in baptism; in confirmation, you make sure they are fully equipped! In confession and in the Eucharist, they have their spiritual strength renewed. Remember the power of confession particularly, because that’s the hospital where wounded soldiers are healed—and even those with mortal wounds are brought back to life!
This advice of Paul’s is addressed to everyone—including the young. He tells them, you can stand fast against the evil one—you can "hold your ground."
Paul first tells us to gird our loins—wrapping our limbs—with the protection of truth.
One of our advantages is that we know there is no conflict between reason and faith; no conflict between science and faith.
Now, I’ll go ahead and be controversial here; I imagine there are different views on the question of evolution in this group. But there can be no conflict between our Faith and what science genuinely discovers. We don’t have any problem with them digging up bones and figuring out how they fit together. Be patient.
Of course some draw conclusions that we don’t accept. But this whole subject isn’t something to avoid; actually, this and other areas are great ways to teach your children the rigorous process of thinking. If you teach your children how to sift the actual facts from the conclusions, that would be a great skill to have.
Also, I know from homeschooling families that it’s when you start teaching your kids that you finally get the subject down for yourself.
The ability of thinking critically and embracing the intellect is something we Catholics can take a little ownership of. The university? That was our idea. The scientific method? We came up with that.
We can’t—and shouldn’t try to—shield our children from the truth.
Early in my priesthood, when I’d touch on a delicate subject in a homily, some parents would squirm at words like, "homosexuality," "abortion," "contraception" and "sex." One comment was, "I don’t want to have to explain what those are to my children."
I certainly respect that parents should be in the driver’s seat, so I found other ways to make the same point. But it also seems to me parents have no real choice but to explain these things to their children, sooner or later. I am confident you can do it the right way.
This may seem so obvious, but—be honest with your children.
I don’t mean you can’t have secrets; but don’t lie or shade the truth. If they figure out you made some bad choices when you were younger, it seems legit to say, "we didn’t tell you because it was our private business," and—"why would our making a mistake that we regret be a reason we should go along with you doing the same thing?"
And you know better than I do that kids will figure things out.
They will figure out when there’s trouble or stress. If there’s an elephant in the room, it is especially hard on children to see the adults pretend it’s not there and to say, "what elephant? Go to your room!" Level with them.
What a treasure it will be for your children to know that, whatever else, they can trust their parents always to be truthful with them.
Next, Paul says put on "righteousness as a breastplate."
I mentioned frequently receiving the sacraments of penance and the Holy Eucharist.
Remember that the sacrament of penance is necessary when we’re guilty of a mortal sin; but it’s good for us in any case. Remember that mortal sins "kill" or rupture the life of grace in us, while venial sins only damage it—but we’re still spiritually alive. Going to confession, then, either revives us from "death" or gives our life an added boost. Good for us either way!
Remember also that if we are not guilty of a mortal sin, our venial sins do not prevent us from receiving holy communion. On the contrary, that is all the more reason to receive the Eucharist.
Sunday Mass goes without saying—vacations too! Your children will learn a valuable lesson from how you make this a priority. Daily Mass is great if you can. Confession once a month is a good rule, weekly is not necessary, but what a great habit!
But the key is, don’t send them; go together as a family.
The other tool is prayer; and I’m sure you try to teach your children all the various ways of praying. That’s another gift we Catholics have—we have a lot more ways to pray than most of our fellow Christians, who don’t pray to the saints, don’t have the Rosary, don’t have adoration or litanies.
But I especially invite you to take them before the Blessed Sacrament. Even a brief visit. Scripture tells us that Moses had a kind of glow from his time in the Lord’s presence.
How about this? If you live anywhere near a church or chapel open all hours—my parish in Piqua, St. Albert used to have a 24 hour chapel, and other churches do too—why not make it a new custom that before you go on a trip as a family, or an outing, you pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament? Even a brief one.
I guess the obvious point here is praying as a family. And while sometimes prayer requires real work and perseverance, it doesn’t have to be; weaving lots of small prayers and customs and sacramentals and rituals into our lives, a lot of which are fun, and add some color and variety to life, is also something we Catholics get to do! May crowning, "Tony, Tony, turn around!" and Eucharistic processions, and the seasons of the church year, all add some variety don’t they?
I might add the same for the liturgy—and make a pitch here for the liturgy to be celebrated, certainly faithfully—but also with a view to its fuller and best form.
I mean not that every Mass should be a "high" Mass; but some Masses should—and I think more than what most parishes experience.
Now, I owe it to your pastors to explain a couple of things. First, that it’s harder to do that than people realize. It takes time and energy to get there. A lot of priests sing badly or they are self-conscious about it. A lot of priests were taught a "low Mass" approach in the seminary. And what’s more, a priest will get very few complaints if he takes that approach, but if he starts singing the Mass, or gets out the incense, or takes "too long" or spends too much money on the liturgy—he will hear about it.
And—some of you may be among those who want the Mass "businesslike" and not too long. You may not be with me on this point.
When I was a seminarian, helping out in a parish one year, I was given the task of doing lessons for each of the grades, week in, week out. And when I was asked to give a talk to the younger grades—I don’t recall what topic, but it was in church. And that’s when I became a complete convert to all the artwork that fills our churches! Young children don’t grasp abstract ideas so well! But images? That works.
The imagery that has filled our churches for at least 1,600 years serves a huge role—and it was a mistake, totally contrary to what Vatican II really said—to rip it out or leave it out.
The liturgy is a mirror of the same insight; and the same mistake was made in the liturgy. That is not what Vatican II intended; much more the opposite, but that’s a secret that is only now beginning to leak out!
And notice, the situation is unstable. If you have a bare church, it isn’t long before someone starts bringing in ferns or banners or pots filled with dead sticks. If the liturgy is too sparse, Father or the liturgy committee will want to "liven it up."
My advice to you is to be a voice in your parish, for the authentic liturgy, celebrated not in a minimalistic but in its fullest form. I’ll tell you a secret: that’s actually what Vatican II called for.
I’m not sending you to give your pastor fits, but to support him and help him.
And if you aren’t experiencing the liturgy celebrated both faithfully and fully, then I would really encourage you to find a parish where it is. Not necessarily to quit your parish, but at least so your family can regularly experience the Sacred Liturgy both faithfully, and with the dignity it deserves.
I know that isn’t always easy.
Some will say, that’s just not that big a deal. But I can tell you, even small changes in what people are accustomed to, at Mass, generate bigger reactions than you would ever guess.
This proves just how important the liturgy is in penetrating us and forming our approach to the Faith. So of course it matters that we get it just right. And why wouldn’t you want your children to experience it to the fullest?
Let’s keep putting on our armor. Paul says we need feet "shod in readiness for the Gospel of peace."
All this armor only makes sense if we’re advancing, if not "standing our ground." Not hiding or retreating.
You and I, and our children, are enlisted in Christ’s army to advance the Gospel. Our feet need to be ready to go anywhere to bring the Gospel to others.
A lot of our parishes are facing stagnation or even decline in numbers. A lot of the time, we get into a negative mindset, taking decline for granted.
Think a moment: we’re Christians; think of our history…
Isn’t that the craziest thing—to plan for decline?
What did General Patton say—did you see that movie? In his famous speech at the beginning, he said, "I don't want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We're not holding anything, we'll let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly, and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose, and we're going to kick him in"—
You get the idea!
I encourage you to foster in your children a sense of being missionaries, evangelists. And here again, don’t just tell them—let them see you doing it.
We don’t have to be experts. Often times the best witness is to tell our story. "I am a Catholic because…" "I go to Mass because…" "I put Jesus first in my life because…"
Now, maybe all that sounds too Protestant, and maybe that is intimidating. I understand. Some of you loved all that, some slunk down in your seats—I saw it!
Here are some easy ways for anyone to evangelize:
Ø Invite friends over.
Ø Don’t be shy about saying grace—ever.
Ø Don’t be pushy; be welcoming. Never be apologetic.
Ø The stations of the cross in Lent, penance services in Lent or Advent, and other things apart from Mass, are great things to invite people to take part in, Catholic or not. In Advent and Lent, especially, many folks want to get back to Faith but don’t always know how. Bring them along.
Ø We have a Eucharistic adoration chapel in Piqua; and some of the folks who come aren’t Catholic. There’s nothing that says you have to be Catholic to visit the Eucharist.
Ø Nothing wrong with bringing your children’s non-Catholic friends to Mass, but explain and help them, especially about communion. That’s just good hospitality. If your son brings his buddy, maybe that should be his job, as the host? Then maybe over breakfast afterwards, you can answer the questions that will come up.
I bet you can think of even more ways.
My point is, that in our spiritual warfare, being passive and retreating is more dangerous than being alert and going forward. All our armor is designed for that.
Paul tells us our Faith is a shield.
There are a lot of things to say about Faith, but let me highlight three aspects.
Faith is about knowledge—it matters that we know our Faith;
Faith is about obedience to what Christ teaches—it matters that we live our Faith;
And above all…
Faith is a choice of the will—which is why the habits of faith matter, because they’ll help us stand our ground and keep our choice strong when it’s not easy.
Notice Faith is a shield—not the sword. Our Faith is not mainly an offensive weapon, but a means of defense—against the attacks of the enemy.
"Flaming arrows" sound pretty scary, but St. Paul assures us our shield of Faith will do the job.
Remember, our Faith is not just ours—when we speak of our Faith, we mean our personal, individual choice of faith, but we also speak of the Faith of the Church. Remember that from the Ritual of Baptism?
Right before the child or the adult is baptized, the deacon or priest asks that person—or others to speak for her—to renounce the devil, and profess faith in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Everyone joins in, and then the priest says, "This is our Faith. This is the Faith of the Church. We are proud to profess it in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen!"
When we recall that people die for that profession, even at this hour, those words take on new meaning, don’t they?
My point is, we have as our shield not only our personal faith, but the Faith of the Church, the whole Church. But it has to be personal, too; we have to be used to holding it, with a familiar grip—or we’ll fumble and drop it at the first sign of trouble.
Our helmet is salvation. I had some trouble on this point, and I have some seminarians staying with me this summer and I asked their thoughts. One of them pointed out sometimes a helmet doesn't just sit on your head, but it comes down and frames your view. We might want to make sure our view of things is always framed by salvation. Father Jim Manning was my first pastor as a priest at St. Albert in Kettering; and in the evenings, we'd often sit and talk, and he'd often ask the question--in Latin, but I can't recall it now--that translated, "what does that mean for eternity?" We want to see all events and all our actions and have a concern for others, based on eternity--getting there ourselves and bringing others with us.
And our one weapon is "the Sword of the Spirit"—which is "the Word of God." The key is the Spirit; everything here only makes sense when we're empowered by the Holy Spirit.
Remember, in Paul's time, they wouldn't have all had bibles; so they carried the Word of God in themselves; they heard it, and reflected on it, so it became part of them. We do this certainly by studying Scripture, but also by praying Scripture; maybe pray the psalms? (Here is actually where I made my points about the liturgy, rather than earlier--I did it out of order.)
(I didn't have this part written--I ran out of time!--so I ended extemporaneously and took questions.)
I am glad to be with you—I’ve never taken part in a conference for home-school families, although I have gotten to know several families who have their schooling at home, and I am on your side, you have my admiration!
I had a bunch more great things I was going to say about how wonderful homeschooling is, but the Archbishop stole all my good comments!
Now, let’s get to the topic at hand: equipping your children with spiritual armor.
That sounds like something they really need, doesn’t it?
This comes from St. Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians, a part of which we just heard. And it should be reassuring to us to remember that children needed spiritual armor just as much in his day, if not more, than they do today. We are sorely tempted to believe our times are terrible, things are as bad as ever, and still getting worse.
Remember the world St. Paul lived in:
Ø Slavery was a routine, normal state of affairs.
Ø Children were the property of the father, who could leave them to die.
Ø Watching real people really kill one another was a normal form of entertainment.
Ø Worship of false gods was everywhere—and a lot of it included sexual indecency, which was bound up with that false worship.
Ø The Emperors of Rome were known for having people murdered, for visiting brothels, orgies, pornography, and incest.
Ø This was a world without most medical treatment we take for granted, including two in particular: painkillers and antibiotics.
Worth thinking about when we complain about our bad times.
Also remember that in St. Paul’s time, only a few people were either Christians or Jews, and that few were at odds with each other.
My point is, while we may find the parallels between Paul’s world, and ours, alarming—we can also find them comforting. Not only did Christianity survive that world—that was the world in which the Church was born! We thrived in that environment!
So let’s talk about spiritual armor.
Notice the passage we heard begins with "finally"—this is the conclusion of Paul’s Letter to the Church in Ephesus. He has written about the nature of the Church, one Body, united to the Head, as the central actor in a cosmic drama; and then it’s about our dignity in Christ; and then, about how each of our roles is different because of this. So he gives guidance to couples, to parents and children, even to masters and slaves. All that, before he says, "finally…"
Facing the might of Rome—facing our world situation…
Facing a tide of immorality and cynicism and faithlessness…
Paul says, "draw your strength from…the mighty power" of the Lord!
Paul is talking about the Holy Spirit.
Remember, you made sure your children received the Holy Spirit in baptism; in confirmation, you make sure they are fully equipped! In confession and in the Eucharist, they have their spiritual strength renewed. Remember the power of confession particularly, because that’s the hospital where wounded soldiers are healed—and even those with mortal wounds are brought back to life!
This advice of Paul’s is addressed to everyone—including the young. He tells them, you can stand fast against the evil one—you can "hold your ground."
Paul first tells us to gird our loins—wrapping our limbs—with the protection of truth.
One of our advantages is that we know there is no conflict between reason and faith; no conflict between science and faith.
Now, I’ll go ahead and be controversial here; I imagine there are different views on the question of evolution in this group. But there can be no conflict between our Faith and what science genuinely discovers. We don’t have any problem with them digging up bones and figuring out how they fit together. Be patient.
Of course some draw conclusions that we don’t accept. But this whole subject isn’t something to avoid; actually, this and other areas are great ways to teach your children the rigorous process of thinking. If you teach your children how to sift the actual facts from the conclusions, that would be a great skill to have.
Also, I know from homeschooling families that it’s when you start teaching your kids that you finally get the subject down for yourself.
The ability of thinking critically and embracing the intellect is something we Catholics can take a little ownership of. The university? That was our idea. The scientific method? We came up with that.
We can’t—and shouldn’t try to—shield our children from the truth.
Early in my priesthood, when I’d touch on a delicate subject in a homily, some parents would squirm at words like, "homosexuality," "abortion," "contraception" and "sex." One comment was, "I don’t want to have to explain what those are to my children."
I certainly respect that parents should be in the driver’s seat, so I found other ways to make the same point. But it also seems to me parents have no real choice but to explain these things to their children, sooner or later. I am confident you can do it the right way.
This may seem so obvious, but—be honest with your children.
I don’t mean you can’t have secrets; but don’t lie or shade the truth. If they figure out you made some bad choices when you were younger, it seems legit to say, "we didn’t tell you because it was our private business," and—"why would our making a mistake that we regret be a reason we should go along with you doing the same thing?"
And you know better than I do that kids will figure things out.
They will figure out when there’s trouble or stress. If there’s an elephant in the room, it is especially hard on children to see the adults pretend it’s not there and to say, "what elephant? Go to your room!" Level with them.
What a treasure it will be for your children to know that, whatever else, they can trust their parents always to be truthful with them.
Next, Paul says put on "righteousness as a breastplate."
I mentioned frequently receiving the sacraments of penance and the Holy Eucharist.
Remember that the sacrament of penance is necessary when we’re guilty of a mortal sin; but it’s good for us in any case. Remember that mortal sins "kill" or rupture the life of grace in us, while venial sins only damage it—but we’re still spiritually alive. Going to confession, then, either revives us from "death" or gives our life an added boost. Good for us either way!
Remember also that if we are not guilty of a mortal sin, our venial sins do not prevent us from receiving holy communion. On the contrary, that is all the more reason to receive the Eucharist.
Sunday Mass goes without saying—vacations too! Your children will learn a valuable lesson from how you make this a priority. Daily Mass is great if you can. Confession once a month is a good rule, weekly is not necessary, but what a great habit!
But the key is, don’t send them; go together as a family.
The other tool is prayer; and I’m sure you try to teach your children all the various ways of praying. That’s another gift we Catholics have—we have a lot more ways to pray than most of our fellow Christians, who don’t pray to the saints, don’t have the Rosary, don’t have adoration or litanies.
But I especially invite you to take them before the Blessed Sacrament. Even a brief visit. Scripture tells us that Moses had a kind of glow from his time in the Lord’s presence.
How about this? If you live anywhere near a church or chapel open all hours—my parish in Piqua, St. Albert used to have a 24 hour chapel, and other churches do too—why not make it a new custom that before you go on a trip as a family, or an outing, you pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament? Even a brief one.
I guess the obvious point here is praying as a family. And while sometimes prayer requires real work and perseverance, it doesn’t have to be; weaving lots of small prayers and customs and sacramentals and rituals into our lives, a lot of which are fun, and add some color and variety to life, is also something we Catholics get to do! May crowning, "Tony, Tony, turn around!" and Eucharistic processions, and the seasons of the church year, all add some variety don’t they?
I might add the same for the liturgy—and make a pitch here for the liturgy to be celebrated, certainly faithfully—but also with a view to its fuller and best form.
I mean not that every Mass should be a "high" Mass; but some Masses should—and I think more than what most parishes experience.
Now, I owe it to your pastors to explain a couple of things. First, that it’s harder to do that than people realize. It takes time and energy to get there. A lot of priests sing badly or they are self-conscious about it. A lot of priests were taught a "low Mass" approach in the seminary. And what’s more, a priest will get very few complaints if he takes that approach, but if he starts singing the Mass, or gets out the incense, or takes "too long" or spends too much money on the liturgy—he will hear about it.
And—some of you may be among those who want the Mass "businesslike" and not too long. You may not be with me on this point.
When I was a seminarian, helping out in a parish one year, I was given the task of doing lessons for each of the grades, week in, week out. And when I was asked to give a talk to the younger grades—I don’t recall what topic, but it was in church. And that’s when I became a complete convert to all the artwork that fills our churches! Young children don’t grasp abstract ideas so well! But images? That works.
The imagery that has filled our churches for at least 1,600 years serves a huge role—and it was a mistake, totally contrary to what Vatican II really said—to rip it out or leave it out.
The liturgy is a mirror of the same insight; and the same mistake was made in the liturgy. That is not what Vatican II intended; much more the opposite, but that’s a secret that is only now beginning to leak out!
And notice, the situation is unstable. If you have a bare church, it isn’t long before someone starts bringing in ferns or banners or pots filled with dead sticks. If the liturgy is too sparse, Father or the liturgy committee will want to "liven it up."
My advice to you is to be a voice in your parish, for the authentic liturgy, celebrated not in a minimalistic but in its fullest form. I’ll tell you a secret: that’s actually what Vatican II called for.
I’m not sending you to give your pastor fits, but to support him and help him.
And if you aren’t experiencing the liturgy celebrated both faithfully and fully, then I would really encourage you to find a parish where it is. Not necessarily to quit your parish, but at least so your family can regularly experience the Sacred Liturgy both faithfully, and with the dignity it deserves.
I know that isn’t always easy.
Some will say, that’s just not that big a deal. But I can tell you, even small changes in what people are accustomed to, at Mass, generate bigger reactions than you would ever guess.
This proves just how important the liturgy is in penetrating us and forming our approach to the Faith. So of course it matters that we get it just right. And why wouldn’t you want your children to experience it to the fullest?
Let’s keep putting on our armor. Paul says we need feet "shod in readiness for the Gospel of peace."
All this armor only makes sense if we’re advancing, if not "standing our ground." Not hiding or retreating.
You and I, and our children, are enlisted in Christ’s army to advance the Gospel. Our feet need to be ready to go anywhere to bring the Gospel to others.
A lot of our parishes are facing stagnation or even decline in numbers. A lot of the time, we get into a negative mindset, taking decline for granted.
Think a moment: we’re Christians; think of our history…
Isn’t that the craziest thing—to plan for decline?
What did General Patton say—did you see that movie? In his famous speech at the beginning, he said, "I don't want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We're not holding anything, we'll let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly, and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose, and we're going to kick him in"—
You get the idea!
I encourage you to foster in your children a sense of being missionaries, evangelists. And here again, don’t just tell them—let them see you doing it.
We don’t have to be experts. Often times the best witness is to tell our story. "I am a Catholic because…" "I go to Mass because…" "I put Jesus first in my life because…"
Now, maybe all that sounds too Protestant, and maybe that is intimidating. I understand. Some of you loved all that, some slunk down in your seats—I saw it!
Here are some easy ways for anyone to evangelize:
Ø Invite friends over.
Ø Don’t be shy about saying grace—ever.
Ø Don’t be pushy; be welcoming. Never be apologetic.
Ø The stations of the cross in Lent, penance services in Lent or Advent, and other things apart from Mass, are great things to invite people to take part in, Catholic or not. In Advent and Lent, especially, many folks want to get back to Faith but don’t always know how. Bring them along.
Ø We have a Eucharistic adoration chapel in Piqua; and some of the folks who come aren’t Catholic. There’s nothing that says you have to be Catholic to visit the Eucharist.
Ø Nothing wrong with bringing your children’s non-Catholic friends to Mass, but explain and help them, especially about communion. That’s just good hospitality. If your son brings his buddy, maybe that should be his job, as the host? Then maybe over breakfast afterwards, you can answer the questions that will come up.
I bet you can think of even more ways.
My point is, that in our spiritual warfare, being passive and retreating is more dangerous than being alert and going forward. All our armor is designed for that.
Paul tells us our Faith is a shield.
There are a lot of things to say about Faith, but let me highlight three aspects.
Faith is about knowledge—it matters that we know our Faith;
Faith is about obedience to what Christ teaches—it matters that we live our Faith;
And above all…
Faith is a choice of the will—which is why the habits of faith matter, because they’ll help us stand our ground and keep our choice strong when it’s not easy.
Notice Faith is a shield—not the sword. Our Faith is not mainly an offensive weapon, but a means of defense—against the attacks of the enemy.
"Flaming arrows" sound pretty scary, but St. Paul assures us our shield of Faith will do the job.
Remember, our Faith is not just ours—when we speak of our Faith, we mean our personal, individual choice of faith, but we also speak of the Faith of the Church. Remember that from the Ritual of Baptism?
Right before the child or the adult is baptized, the deacon or priest asks that person—or others to speak for her—to renounce the devil, and profess faith in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Everyone joins in, and then the priest says, "This is our Faith. This is the Faith of the Church. We are proud to profess it in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen!"
When we recall that people die for that profession, even at this hour, those words take on new meaning, don’t they?
My point is, we have as our shield not only our personal faith, but the Faith of the Church, the whole Church. But it has to be personal, too; we have to be used to holding it, with a familiar grip—or we’ll fumble and drop it at the first sign of trouble.
Our helmet is salvation. I had some trouble on this point, and I have some seminarians staying with me this summer and I asked their thoughts. One of them pointed out sometimes a helmet doesn't just sit on your head, but it comes down and frames your view. We might want to make sure our view of things is always framed by salvation. Father Jim Manning was my first pastor as a priest at St. Albert in Kettering; and in the evenings, we'd often sit and talk, and he'd often ask the question--in Latin, but I can't recall it now--that translated, "what does that mean for eternity?" We want to see all events and all our actions and have a concern for others, based on eternity--getting there ourselves and bringing others with us.
And our one weapon is "the Sword of the Spirit"—which is "the Word of God." The key is the Spirit; everything here only makes sense when we're empowered by the Holy Spirit.
Remember, in Paul's time, they wouldn't have all had bibles; so they carried the Word of God in themselves; they heard it, and reflected on it, so it became part of them. We do this certainly by studying Scripture, but also by praying Scripture; maybe pray the psalms? (Here is actually where I made my points about the liturgy, rather than earlier--I did it out of order.)
(I didn't have this part written--I ran out of time!--so I ended extemporaneously and took questions.)
'Spiritual Sight' (Sunday homily)
Once again, I didn't have a text for my homily, so here are some bullet points as best as I can recapitulate them:
> In the Gospel we see our Lord sending the Apostles to cast out demons. Curiously, although you see miracles of feeding, healing and even folks being raised from the dead in the Old Testament, you don't see any prophets or leaders of the Old Testament casting out demons.
> In the Old Testament, when they performed these miracles, the prophets had to turn to God to bring them about; when Jesus does them, he just does them--it serves to show just who he is: God. And when he casts out evil, it emphasizes it.
> This makes the Apostles pretty impressive--having the power to cast out demons. But we might wonder, where did this power go? It passed into the Church.
> You may not realize it, but we have all received an exorcism! No, not the Hollywood version; but just before our baptism, the deacon or priest prayed a prayer (I read a part of it); then we are baptized; it helps make clear what happens in baptism, that we receive the Holy Spirit.
> We don't talk much about spiritual evil, but demons do exist and we want to take them seriously. We might want to be mindful about movies and video games and things that can be too dark.
> How do we strengthen our "spiritual sight"? What we're doing now: taking part in Mass, putting Christ at the center. Also the sacrament of penance really helps. And trying to give ourselves even a few minutes' recollection and prayer each day.
> Above all, we unite ourselves to the Eucharist. The more we do that, the more we will come to see the world as Jesus does from the cross: seeing people who need salvation--seeing things from the point of view of eternity--and we will act for their eternal well being.
I said more than this, especially on the latter two points, but just how I did it I cannot now recall.
> In the Gospel we see our Lord sending the Apostles to cast out demons. Curiously, although you see miracles of feeding, healing and even folks being raised from the dead in the Old Testament, you don't see any prophets or leaders of the Old Testament casting out demons.
> In the Old Testament, when they performed these miracles, the prophets had to turn to God to bring them about; when Jesus does them, he just does them--it serves to show just who he is: God. And when he casts out evil, it emphasizes it.
> This makes the Apostles pretty impressive--having the power to cast out demons. But we might wonder, where did this power go? It passed into the Church.
> You may not realize it, but we have all received an exorcism! No, not the Hollywood version; but just before our baptism, the deacon or priest prayed a prayer (I read a part of it); then we are baptized; it helps make clear what happens in baptism, that we receive the Holy Spirit.
> We don't talk much about spiritual evil, but demons do exist and we want to take them seriously. We might want to be mindful about movies and video games and things that can be too dark.
> How do we strengthen our "spiritual sight"? What we're doing now: taking part in Mass, putting Christ at the center. Also the sacrament of penance really helps. And trying to give ourselves even a few minutes' recollection and prayer each day.
> Above all, we unite ourselves to the Eucharist. The more we do that, the more we will come to see the world as Jesus does from the cross: seeing people who need salvation--seeing things from the point of view of eternity--and we will act for their eternal well being.
I said more than this, especially on the latter two points, but just how I did it I cannot now recall.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Dayton Home School Conference
Among the many things I'm working on are a couple of talks I have to put together for the Dayton Homeschool Conference, coming up on Saturday, July 11.
I promised to give two talks: for the parents, I'm going to address "Equipping your children with spiritual armor"; and with the teens, my talk is called, "Social Justice: being God's not-so-secret agent." I promised to give the talks--now I have to prepare them!
If you are interested in this conference (I'm sure the other talks will be good at least), click on the link embedded in this post to go to the web site. Don't ask me any questions, I don't even know yet what I'm going to say!
I promised to give two talks: for the parents, I'm going to address "Equipping your children with spiritual armor"; and with the teens, my talk is called, "Social Justice: being God's not-so-secret agent." I promised to give the talks--now I have to prepare them!
If you are interested in this conference (I'm sure the other talks will be good at least), click on the link embedded in this post to go to the web site. Don't ask me any questions, I don't even know yet what I'm going to say!
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