Friday, January 27, 2012

NCR Crowd clueless

As we gear up to defend ourselves, as Catholics--and all Americans--from President Obama's declaration of war against religious freedom, one hopes a "liberal" publication such as the National (so called) Catholic Reporter would be on our side.

Well, to date the NCR has published two great articles from Michael Sean Winters, a pro-Obama blogger who is furious at the President for his administration's order that employers, regardless of religious principles, must pay to provide contraception, sterilization and abortion-causing drugs, as part of health care. This, of course, applies to churches, with only the slimmest exemption that may apply to parishes, perhaps parochial schools, but no farther.

But it has also published two articles explicitly attacking the bishops and endorsing this move by our government.

Then, today, is a fairly neutral article describing our bishops gearing up. The bishops, thank God, are roused with righteous anger, as we all should be.

Well, I'll let you find your way over there to see the mostly depressing comments by NCR's readers.

To their mind, the bishops refusing to go along represents an imposition by Catholics on the rest of our country!

If the matter were not so weighty, it would be comical. Editors of the NCR: do you read the comments from your own readers?

It reminds me of the demands, by King Henry VIII's minions, of Thomas More. He was content to resign as chancellor, and to remain silent ever after about the King's actions regarding his Queen and Parliament's declaration that the King--not the pope--was head of the Church in England. More simply asked to remain silent. He refused to sign the oath, but he refused to give any reason.

This was intolerable. Thus a show trial was trumped up, with perjured testimony, in order to send him to the gallows. Of course all this is vividly depicted in the famous play, "A Man For All Seasons." If I can imbed it properly, here's the scene from youtube:

I'd heartily recommend a viewing if you are looking for something to do on a winter's evening.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Archbishop Schnurr defies Obama Assault on Freedom

I just received an email from his Excellency, Dennis Schnurr, Archbishop of Cincinnati.

Because it's a "PDF" file, it doesn't react well when I try to post it here, and I must run to hear confessions.

So I will simply tell you the Archbishop is taking a strong stand; he says, "we cannot--we will not--comply with this unjust law."

He asks that we fast and pray for deliverance from the oppression being visited upon us by our own government; and that we work to overturn this violation of the First Amendment.

I ask that you please pray for our bishops, and also tell them you support them.

UPDATE (1/26/12)

Here is the text of the Archbishop's letter:


January 26, 2012

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I write to you concerning an alarming and serious matter that negatively impacts the Church in the United States directly, and that strikes at the fundamental right to religious liberty for all citizens of any faith.

The federal government, which claims to be “of, by, and for the people,” has just dealt a heavy blow to almost a quarter of those people – the Catholic population and to the millions more who are served by the Catholic faithful.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services announced last week that almost all employers, including Cathofic employers, will beforced to offer their employees’ health coverage that includes sterilization, abortion-inducing drugs, and contraception. Almost all health insurers will be forced to include those “services” in the health policies they write. And almost all individuals will be forced to buy that coverage as a part of their policies.

In so ruling, the Administration has cast aside the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, denying to Catholics our Nation’s first and most fundamental freedom, that of religious liberty. And as a result, unless the rule is overturned, we Catholics will be compelled to violate our consciences, or to drop health coverage for our employees (and suffer the penalties for doing so). The Administration’s sole concession was to give our institutions one year to comply.

We cannot – we will not – comply with this unjust law. People of faith cannot be made second-class citizens. We are already joined by our brothers and sisters of all faiths and many others of good will in this important effort to regain our religious freedom. Our parents and grandparents did not corne to these shores to help build Arnerica’s cities and towns, its infrastructure and institutions, its enterprise and culture, only to have their posterity stripped of their God given rights. In generations past, the Church has always been able to count on the faithful to stand up and protect her sacred rights and duties. I hope and trust she can count on this generation of Catholics to do the same. Our children and grandchildren deserve nothing less.

And therefore, I would ask of you two things. First, as a community of faith we must commit ourselves to prayer and fasting that wisdom and justice may prevail, and religious liberty may be restored. Without God, we can do nothing; with God, nothing is impossible. Second, I would also recommend visiting www.usccb.org/conscience, to learn more about this severe assault on religious liberty, and how to Contact Congress in support of legislation that would reverse the Administration’s decision.

Sincerely yours in Christ,

Most Reverend Dennis M. Schnurr

Archbishop of Cincinnati

Sunday, January 22, 2012

I prayed the Roman Canon the first time today...

Today might have been the most emotional I've been at Mass since my father's funeral. And on that occasion, with God's help I kept my composure until the completion of the rites at the cemetery.

At Mass last night, and this morning, I nearly broke down while delivering my homily, as I described the unprecedented attack our own government is making on us, on our Faith, and the freedom to practice our faith which is our birthright and our national heritage. It's extremely upsetting. I've never felt this.

Today, at Saint Mary, as I stood at the altar, praying the Roman Canon, it's as if I was praying it for the first time--that is to say, hearing it's words and what they mean.

Early in the prayer (I don't have the improved translation memorized yet), we ask for God to enable the Church to live in peace. And it hit me: this was prayed, from the beginning, by Christians who feared the door being knocked down and they would be dragged away.

Until this day, I never prayed this prayer out of a personal sense of being the persecuted Church, because as an American, persecution was something that happened to Christians in other places and times.

I almost cried again at that moment of the prayer. The prayer felt so different today. I wonder if anyone else felt it. We're pleading for God to protect us from persecution; but in any case, to get us through it, with the peace the world cannot give.

The Church will survive; indeed, I believe she will thrive. This will, I believe, prove very good for us in many ways. As someone with a keen interest in politics, I think this will redound to the benefit, politically, of those who oppose Obama.

But I am...I don't know how to describe my feelings. I'm fired up; and you should be too! Every Catholic, every person who values freedom of conscience, should be fired up. Now!

But I'm sad. I love my country; I am broken hearted at the direction we are going. I have been for some time. It just hurts more deeply at the moment.

And in case you're wondering...I'm using a computer at the hotel in D.C. where I'm staying. I chose not to bring my laptop--just one more complication to passing through "security" at the airport. But let me not speak of that. Too sad.

On the way to D.C....

Headed out imminently to the March for Life.

Please pray for all who are there, all who are travelling...

And most of all, pray for our country, our president who has declared war on the Catholic Church and on freedom of conscience.

More on the war on faith when I get back.

Urgency (Sunday homily)

(From memory, I followed a mental outline)

As I reflected on the readings, a word came to me--I wonder if it occurred to you: urgency. There is great urgency in the readings we heard.

Jonah comes to Nineveh and tells them they must repent; very quickly the whole city responds: they felt urgency.

St. Paul says the world as we know it is passing away; he felt urgency.

In the Gospel, when our Lord said, "come follow me and I will make you fishers of men," they responded right away. They didn't write it down for later; they didn't say, after my kids are grown, or when things get easier. They dropped their nets and walked away.

So I wonder, what does this mean for us?

Well, today we mark an anniversary: the Roe v. Wade decision, striking down laws in 50 states against abortion, and bringing about abortion on demand. Almost 40 years has passed. Over a million every year, and millions of women are wounded. My home city of Cincinnati has about 300,000 people; that's three of my home cities in one year.

Do we feel urgency about this? Many will be in D.C. tomorrow, as will I; many of our students will ride a bus all night. There are 70 million Catholics in this country; if just 10%--7 million--showed up tomorrow in D.C., or in Columbus, or in Troy, would that communicate urgency?

The bishops have declared tomorrow a day of penance and prayer; whatever you do, wherever you are, they ask that we offer penance--make a sacrifice--offer prayers tomorrow.

Now, two days ago, the holy father met with some of our bishops. All the bishops of the world meet the holy father every 5 years. And he said the following--I'm paraphrasing. He said that your country was founded on good principles of human rights, godly principles. He quoted the Declaration of Independence. But, he said, there is a growing opposition to Christian principles; and he said the bishops need to speak up, to oppose it, to awaken the faithful and our nation to this. He was trying to create urgency.

The next day...and what I'm going to say is shocking, there's no way to sugar-coat it.

The next day, our president issued an order that every employer in the country, starting in August, must provide contraceptives and abortion-causing drugs as part of health care. There is a very narrow exception that might apply to our parish, but may not to our school; it certainly won't apply to our hospitals, universities and charities; and it won't apply to you, in your businesses. The only exception was that religious organizations could wait another year before compromising their consciences.

In 236 years, never has our government interfered with your freedom to practice our faith. We have been free to live our faith here; until this moment.

If we do not comply, we will be fined. I tell you, as long as I am your pastor, we will not obey! They can take me to jail.

Now, we have hope that the courts will strike this down, it's so outrageous. But we might have hoped the courts would do the right thing 40 years ago, but they didn't.

Who will speak up? There are 70 million Jonahs; 70 million Apostles in this country. God calls us.

I sprinkled you with water today, recalling your baptism. You were chosen to share his mission; you've already been called.

Now, some don't understand why our Church teaches what it does about contraception. We priests don't talk about it enough. Let me explain this briefly: love is for life.

We are not merely human. God has paid us the intolerable compliment of giving us divine quality, including us in his plan. So our human actions have a divine element. And when a couple comes together, we are most like God. So human acts of love always include God, include the gift of life. We don't leave him out.

But this isn't about the teaching. What if this were happening to our Muslim brothers and sisters; our Jewish brothers and sisters? Would we wash our hands of it, if their conscience was under attack?

This is upsetting; I'm upset, I'm sorry. This is serious. Who will speak up? God calls you.

Monday, January 09, 2012

Epiphany Homily

(This is from memory, I had a mental outline...)

I started by explaining how Epiphany completes the Christmas Season, more or less (technically the Baptism of the Lord does; however that's not celebrated on a Sunday this year). I explained how it represents the fulfillment of prophecy--Isaiah spoke about a light to the nations, and all the nations would come to worship the one true God. Little Judah, about to snuffed out in Isaiah's time, seems an improbable means for that; but when the Magi arrive--standing for all the Gentiles that would come to believe in Jesus--then the promise is fulfilled. I pointed out that 1/3 of the world believes in Jesus, so it's come true; except that another 2/3rds remain to be reached.

Then I talked about the theme of light--and joked about all the candles we had lit. And I pointed out that if God wanted to fill the world with brilliant light, he could do that easily by causing our sun, or a nearby star, to blow up--and we'd go out in a blaze of glory! God's courtesy is to ask our cooperation in filling hearts with light.

So, how will we increase light in ourselves--and in then in others--this coming year?

I offered three practical suggestions:

> Forgive. I talked about the difficulty of forgiving and steps to overcome that. I explained that when we forgive, we aren't saying what others did wrong was OK, but we are turning them over to God to deal with, and letting go ourselves. I asked, what if God called you and said, "I understand So-and-so owes you a big debt--what if I repay it?" And of course we know what comes next if we agree: God has already paid!

> I said that one way to make forgiving easier is to experience forgiveness--i.e., in the sacrament of reconciliation. The more we appreciate how much God has forgiven us, the easier we will find it to give forgiveness. And I recalled our Lord's words that the measure we use, will be used for us; so forgiveness is practical; measure mercy to others generously, so we can receive it in the same measure.

> And I concluded by saying, to help with both of these, try encountering the Light of Christ at the source--visit our chapel (where we have perpetual exposition). I reminded folks the chapel was open 24 hours, and a short visit with kids would be well worthwhile. But I cautioned that a direct encounter with the Lord might change things, just like it changed the Magi. Once we see him, what might he ask?

That's my best recollection.

Restaurant Weekend

Here's another true story from parish life...

This weekend I was running a restaurant. I served about 250 people something to eat this weekend. Here's the background.

Every year I have a dinner with the staff of the two parishes. Most years I take them out to a restaurant, but that gets pricey; once before I fixed dinner myself; and this year, I decided to do that again.

Also, every year, I fix breakfast for everyone in the parishes--at least, everyone who comes. I do it one weekend at St. Boniface, and one weekend at St. Mary.

I do these things around Christmas. My gift to everyone.

So Dec. 18 was breakfast at St. Boniface. January 8 was breakfast at St. Mary.

Oh, and the date for the staff party was January 7.

So, Friday was shopping day; and I started the brine for the chickens I would roast. Because the rectory dining room was not big enough for the staff, I planned on using one of the rooms in the school. So that meant planning for food, dishes and other things to go over to the school so I could do what I needed to there; but to do some things in the rectory.

Saturday was pretty busy with prep and set up. I had to figure out what to do before I left for Mass at 4 pm; and what I'd do after I returned.

Actually, everything was finished early; I forgot I told everyone to show up at 6:30, and so around 6 I'm looking out and wondering, where is everyone? All the food got done in plenty of time; but thankfully we have these warmer things in the school cafeteria. So no problems.

The dinner turned out beautifully, if I do say so myself. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and I sent leftovers home with the Sisters, because they take a vow of poverty and, well, being the pastor, you can do things like that. They should eat well for a week.

So while we're cleaning up--God bless the guests for helping! I set things up for the next morning. I had to start cooking the eggs around 6 am -- the eggs are liquid, in sealed bags, and all you do is boil them for about 2 hours and voila! Scrambled eggs!

So up--groggily--at 6 am--time to start the eggs!

Then off to 7 am Mass; then pick up the donuts and the juice--back to the other parish.

Oops--the eggs are cooking too fast! Almost done! OK, slow things down...meanwhile I put the sausage in the oven, start the coffee, get everything set up. Forgot, once again, to ask the janitor to leave the chairs down in the cafeteria so I took those down. All the food is ready by 9:30 am, I expect folks around 10 am.

Everyone showed up, and I think I served about 200, can't say for sure. We had just enough food, Deo Gratias! But we did run out of orange juice. Again, good folks helped me clean up, and I was able to get over to church in time for Noon Mass.

I don't mind telling you I was tired after Mass.

But I'm glad to do something for our parishioners. So many do so much and I don't really do a good job saying thank you. This is what I can do.

Saturday, January 07, 2012

Fixing dinner...

Today I've been busy with a dinner for our parish staffs.

The menu is as follows...

Before dinner:

Cheese & crackers
Chips & dip
Crudites
Shrimp
Soft and hard drinks

Dinner:

Rosemary roast chicken
Three cheese lasagna
Steamed vegetables
Garlic potatoes
Rolls and butter
Various wines

Dessert:

Cheesecake
Fruit salad
Coffee

Here's my checklist thus far:

6:45 Dinner is ready to serve
6:40 Place vegetables, potatoes and rolls on table
6:40 Place Lasagna & chicken platters on table
6:30 Heat potatoes and vegetables
5:30 Butter dish and other items on table
6:00 Chickens out of oven
Lasagna out of oven
5:30 pm Lasagna in oven
5:15 pm check chickens; move to warming oven as needed
5:15 pm Return from St. Boniface
3:30 pm Depart for St. Boniface
3:15 pm Chickens in oven
2:30 pm Prep chickens
1:00 pm Take food over to school kitchen
Noon Set tables in St. Mary Room

You'll notice the list is in reverse order. I don't know how others do it, but when I plan events like this, I plan my time backward, so I start things on time, but not too early and certainly not too late.

The last three items are italics because I've checked them off. Next is a shower (not on the list!) and then to take care of the chickens.

And, yes, there are other items not included; these were the things that I needed to plan; the rest I'm not worried about.

Thursday, January 05, 2012

More on the NCR's rebellion against the Catholic Faith

At the site of my friend, Father John Zuhlsdorf, I saw a link to some documents from the '60s about the National (so-called) Catholic Reporter--which is sadly a very vigorous advocate of dissent, and frequently and actively opposes several teachings of the Church, and meanwhile pours acid on the foundations of the Faith generally.

If you don't care to follow the link, it both tells the sad story of how the NCR started as a diocesan publication, but parted company, and before long, the bishop himself was forced to rebuke the publication publicly for no longer being truly Catholic.

It's sad to think their dissent and denial of truths of the Faith weren't so persistent; however, the hopeful thought is that, perhaps they've improved a bit since then? Maybe that is too wistful a hope.

I share this with you because if you go to a site such as the NCR, or pick up a copy and see "Catholic," you might reasonably assume it is Catholic. I think it's necessary to clarify that.

Friday, December 30, 2011

Was Jesus born on December 25?


One of the questions that comes up, especially at this time of year, is whether there's much, if any, connection between December 25, and the actual birthday of our Lord.

And one will very often see or hear someone say something like, "of course Jesus wasn't born on December 25," as if this has been settled.

Not so.

Yes, scholars have questioned whether December 25 is the correct day. Yes, we don't know for absolute certainty that December 25 is the right day; and the Church has never thought it appropriate to make such a statement. And she is wise not to, until such time as it really is proven clearly--because our Faith is that he was born, not just what day it happened.

But, all that is not the same as saying December 25 has nothing going for it. Moreover, admitting room for doubt doesn't validate all the arguments made against December 25--many of which are made in pursuit of an agenda by those who wish to sow doubt.

True, it's not a critical question, there is the problem that, for many people, doubt about the validity of something like this tends to spread, and sow doubt more broadly about what we believe, and the basis for what we believe.

So I think it's worth exploring--not because I aim to settle the matter; but because I think folks who adhere to Christian tradition, and give it credibility, need not be defensive or embarrassed about doing so. Even if the things we believe as a matter of tradition can't always be proven definitively, the more we look at them, the more reason we have to feel confident about their validity. I think you'll see that's the case here.


OK, let's get down to it: what are some reasons to accept the validity of December 25?

For me, the first question to ask is, where did the idea of December 25, as our Lord's birthday, come from? It surely wasn't arbitrary: some bishop didn't pull numbers out of hat.

One claim frequently made is that it was chosen to counteract a pagan celebration; either Saturnalia, which was celebrated in mid-December, or else to counteract a pagan festival called Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, or, the Feast of the Birth of the Unconquerable Sun.

We meet this argument throughout the year: the Feast of the Presentation on February 2 is really about a pagan day then; Easter, May Day, Hallowe'en, etc., are all about "baptizing" pre-existing pagan celebrations.

Well, it's one thing to say that Christians looked for ways to make connections, and build bridges between the experiences and beliefs of the pagans they were evangelizing, and another to say Christians simply took paganism and gave it a fresh coat of paint, so to speak. The fact is, as Christians encountered many cultures and customs through the early centuries, there was no avoiding some coincidence between the events celebrated in our Lord's life, and local observances. So noticing coincidences is no more meaningful than discovering who else was born the same day as you.

On the other hand, that's not to say that pagan customs had no influence. They certainly did; it's hard to imagine it being otherwise. So, for example, the Roman feast of Saturnalia fell on December 17, and at some point was expanded for several days, until December 23; and it involved candles and gift giving. So if pagan Romans, upon becoming Christians, continued giving gifts, what's wrong with that? But again, that doesn't prove that's why the Lord's birth was celebrated in December; because again, there were lots of other celebrations all year long they could have linked it to--if that was the motive. There's almost nothing to show that the date was picked for that reason.

The coincidence of the Sol Invicti celebration is more notable--it's the same day, and it has some surface similarities--references to light and the sun.

Well, it could be; however, that's a thin connection. Moreover, there is the fact that Sol Invicti wasn't a longstanding Roman celebration; it was relatively unknown until the 200s, when the Emperor Elagabalus (AD 218-222) instituted it But his worship of the sun god was something imported from Syria--it wasn't popular, and when he assassinated, his new feast was abolished(1)

Fast-forward to AD 274, when the Emperor Aurelian instituted the feast day; and this time, the practice took hold. But by 274, Christians had already been celebrating December 25 as the Lord's birthday for some time, although not universally. The feast of the Lord's nativity, like so many other feasts of our faith, was not imposed from above, as it were--by the pope or the bishops--but from "below"--it started as a local observance and spread(2).

We have a few written references to Christians celebrating the Lord's birth on December 25; one by St. Hippolytus, around AD 204; then we have other writings, from North Africa and Judea, that while not directly mentioning December 25, nonetheless support the date. Now this will take a bit of explaining, so stick with me here.

There was a Jewish concept at that time of "integral age"--i.e., the belief that great men or prophets would be conceived the same day they died. And it is in that context that some early Christians would tend to emphasize that our Lord died on March 25--implying they also believe he was conceived that day.(3)

In any case, all this does is show at least some basis for December 25 being chosen, other than reacting to a pagan celebration. Indeed, it could easily be the opposite: the pagan celebration was played up, in response to the growing Christian movement--which we do know was strongly disapproved of by various emperors, who--after all--repeatedly tried to suppress it.

OK, there's one argument. Not overwhelming. But there are other points to consider.

Remember, the Lord's birth didn't involve just one event on one day; it involved several events on several days, including events involving other people. Remember, the Scriptures tell us about Jesus' birth, in relation to that of John the Baptist; and then the Scriptures tell us about Jesus being circumcised 8 days after his birth; and then presented in the temple 40 days after.

The connection to John the Baptist is interesting, because it raises the question of when Zachariah, his father, as a priest of the temple, may have had his time of service before the Lord. The Gospel of Luke tells us that Zachariah "was serving as priest in his division’s turn before God" (1:8) -- there was a rotation of 24 groups who each took two weeks a year; according to this article by Darrell Pursiful, there were three weeks a year when everyone showed up--and that sounds plausible enough. In any case, this rotation would mean Zachariah would have had two weeks, approximately six months apart.

As Dr. Pursiful explains in the article linked above--and I've seen this argument elsewhere, but I can't put my hands on a reference just now--there would be several weeks when Zachariah might have been on duty; and one of them would, indeed, line up with John being conceived in September, and then born in June--six months before our Lord.

Not definitive, but supportive, is the best one can say.

Before I close this out, let me offer a different argument: from memory.

You and I are a long way from these events; we don't experience them as a personal or communal memory. But in the early Church, that's just how the events of our Lord's life would have been experienced. In the first two Christian centuries, the memory of when things happened would have been vivid; we know that the community of believers went to great effort to sustain those memories. The letters of the apostles were not only carefully preserved, they were quickly copied and circulated widely. The Gospels were written not long after the events they describe; and they, too, were both treasured and copied. And these writings didn't happen in a void; they interacted with the faith and memory of the people--both those who experienced these events first-hand, in Galilee and Judea, and then those who heard these things from them, and then, in turn, passed them along.

There is no speculation here; we know that the memory and passing on of these things was tremendously important to early Christians. Outside of the New Testament, we have a lot of textual evidence of all that people did to hold onto the memories of what Mary, Joseph, and the Apostles did, in addition, of course, to what our Lord said and did.

And there would be a lot of memory to preserve, surrounding the key events of our Lord's life: the events with Zachariah and Elizabeth, the annunciation to Mary, the journey to Bethlehem, the Lord's birth, circumcision, presentation in the temple, the flight to Egypt, the visit again to the temple when he was 12, and of course the events when he was an adult and began his public ministry, leading to his suffering, death and resurrection.

So what became of these memories, so devotedly cultivated and passed down? I submit they are with us still, in the liturgical cycle we observe. We don't just observe Christmas in isolation: it lines up with dates for the Annunciation (March 25), John's birthday (June 24), the Circumcision (January 1) and the Presentation (February 2). And, as noted, at one time the date of the crucifixion was aligned with the date of presumed conception; and notice, every few years, it still happens that Good Friday falls on March 25.

There are those who suppose that the early Christians, whether in choosing dates for observances, or else in tracking down relics such as the True Cross, were relatively easily satisfied; so, for example, I've heard people argue that when St. Helena got to the Holy Land and found a cross, she was fairly credulous about it. But that makes no sense to me. St. Helena's journey would have been a very difficult undertaking; why, with so much sacrifice and effort, not to mention cost, would she then accept whatever someone offered her as the True Cross? It makes far more sense to me that such a formidable woman would have--after all she invested in this effort--not be easily satisfied. Do you really suppose she never met a sharpie or a con man in her life until she showed up in Jerusalem?

Until some evidence comes forward, we can't establish the matter for certain, but my feeling is that the burden of proof doesn't lie with those who celebrate December 25 as the Lord's birthday, but with those who dispute it. Just because we don't have much information now about why that date was chosen, doesn't mean they didn't have it, then; so much of what they knew, even what was once written down and widely known, is simply lost to us now. Some presumption is fair to give to those who first established this feast day, on December 25, that they had good reasons for doing so. Since the evidence we do have is supportive, even if not conclusive, I don't know why that isn't good enough?

(1), (2) Carl J. Sommer, "The Festival of Lights: Hannukkah, Christmas and the early Church," in the December 2011 edition of Homiletic and Pastoral Review,.

(3) Ibid; referring to William Tighe, "Calculating Christmas," p.1.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

The 'operatic farce' of the NCR

For some time, I have regularly read the National Catholic Reporter online.

I wish I could recommend the publication, but unfortunately, every word in its name is false: it isn't "national"--the publication represents only a narrow slice of Catholics; it doesn't simply "report," it has an agenda, which is fine, except it's particularly heavy-handed in its approach to it.

And, very sad to say, it isn't "Catholic." To be "Catholic" is to be embrace the whole. (The word catholic comes from two Greek words, kata and holos, meaning "pertaining to the whole. You can even see the connection between holos and the words "whole" and "holistic.")

Sadly, the National Catholic Reporter does not embrace the whole of the Catholic Faith. Its writers and editors routinely and aggressively dissent from many elements of the Faith, including:

* The essential quality of human sexuality being inseparably procreative and unifying, and thus being essentially heterosexual.

The NCR crowd (meaning its guiding lights, its editors and writers, and the audience it cultivates) rejects this, embracing as moral contraception, homosexual acts and so-called same-sex marriage.

* The essential quality of the sacrament of holy orders being conferred only on men.

This has always been the practice of the Church, it is the universal practice of all Churches who preserve valid orders--i.,e., not only the Latin Rite of the Catholic Church, but also all the non-Latin branches of the Church which are in communion with Rome (such as the Byzantine and Maronite Churches, and other "Eastern" rites of the Church), and also the many Orthodox Churches and the so-called ancient "Churches of the East"--which divided from both the Orthodox and Catholic Churches over disputes in the 300s-400s, yet preserve valid sacraments, including holy orders.

This was formally and infallibly defined by Pope John Paul II in 1994, and thus is irreformable.

* The necessity of a priest to offer the Mass.

The NCR frequently gives space to the false claim that the Mass can be celebrated validly in the absence of a priest.

* The basic structure and history of the Church's creation and structure: i.e., that Christ founded the Church on the apostles, and the Church is, by his design and intention, governed by the successors of the apostles, led by Peter's successor, the pope.

The NCR eagerly provides a forum for the most contemptuous, vicious attacks on the bishops and the pope of any so-called "Catholic" site I've ever seen. And while I cannot exactly identify the governing structure the NCR folks have in mind for the Church, they never miss a chance to take a rhetorical wrecking-ball to the structure that we have, which, yes, has changed and evolved over the millenia--yet is still firmly rooted in what our Lord said and did in collaboration with his chosen apostles.

The bottom line of the NCR's position is to deny the historicity of the Church's self-knowledge (via Scripture and Tradition) of how Christ founded the Church. Thus, to the NCR's mind, it's all up for grabs.

Beyond these most serious cases of the NCR being deliberately not-Catholic, is its increasingly bizarre reaction to the newly implemented translation of the Roman Missal.

While I have been generally in favor of it, I recognize many folks weren't and I don't fault anyone who didn't like the idea, and doesn't like the result. And whatever my personal feelings, or anyone else's, my judgment was, this is coming, I do no one any favors by moaning and groaning about it, emphasizing the negative.

The truth is, the new Missal is hardest on priests; the changes that folks in the pews have had to learn involve prayers that can--and have been--printed on both sides of a book-sized card. I just took a look at one of those cards; the actual changed words (printed in bold) add up to about 100 words.

Meanwhile, the words the priest prays have changed throughout.

Now, some priests have complained--loudly. I have not. I'm not going to complain. If you ask me if I like, or would have made, each and every change that was made, the answer is no. Had the pope called me for advice, I'd have suggested some different things. But he never called! I'm not bitter about that; I don't expect the pope to seek my advice on such things; nor do I expect that any such work of translation will get it exactly right.

But I'll be danged if I'm going to complain about it, no matter what; because in the great scheme of things, this is hardly any great suffering for me. I can appreciate that other priests are finding it more difficult, but speaking as a priest, all of us chose to embrace follow the Lord, taking up his cross. We all know that being a priest involves trials and difficulties, of which this is relatively benign.

And if I'm going to complain, I'm not going to complain to the faithful. What good would that do anyone? How would that add to your sanctification, or mine?

OK, so the NCR didn't like this translation, and has, along the way, objected to both the process and the result. They have every right to voice their views, and at some point in the process, they might reasonably have hoped to have some influence. For all I know, they may have had some influence on the process.

But at a particular point--many, many months ago--the translation was finalized and adopted--and the next stop was publishing Missals and helps, and proceeding with introducing the new translation into widespread use. And that came to fruition a few weeks ago.

Most folks, who advocate for a point of view, and don't prevail, would move on. We all have a vote, and we all see the candidates we believe in, lose. We don't like it; we believed the candidate we voted for would have done better, and we can all see, as things unfold, whether we were right. But we move on.

The past few weeks, the NCR has made clear it's not moving on. First an article from Father Richard McBrien, now an article by NCR editor Tom Roberts, continuing a rear-guard action against the Missal.

The complaints are, to be candid, ridiculous.

Really, Mr. Roberts, you're going to take your stand on how awful, terrible it is to say "and with your spirit"? You seriously consider "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof"? a terrible imposition on you? When Catholics are having their churches bombed in Nigeria, they don't dare have Midnight Mass in Iraq, and in many places, they wonder if their family will be the last Catholic to leave the land of their birth?

Yes, of course it's take effort to learn something new; and we all feel a little silly when we get it wrong. If we want to make a big deal out of it, that's our choice. But we also can all have some patience and humor about it and know, before long, it'll all be behind us and then we'll wonder what all the fuss was about.

What I found interesting is the silence, so far, from the NCR on a particular point.

As the NCR "reported" on the new Missal, during the past year, a frequent claim was that Christmas, especially, would be a train-wreck--because even with all the careful explanations and preparation, churches would be filled with folks who only attend Mass occasionally, and they wouldn't be up-to-speed, resulting in (pardon the pun) Mass confusion.

Well, the retired priest who lives with me--and who wasn't enthusiastic about any of this, but also didn't engage in a dramatic temper-tantrum about it--took a much more even strain. He said--about not only Christmas but the whole build up to the new translation: this won't be that big a deal. The responses the people give aren't changing that much. He predicted no train-wreck on Christmas.

Well, at least here in Piqua, he was 100% right.

No doubt there were folks who were puzzled, but what I heard at a crowded 6 pm Mass, as well as at the well attended midnight and 9 am Masses was strong use of the new responses. No doubt some folks remained silent because of uncertainty, but I'm not sure they'd have done any differently without a new translation. At weddings, when many of the same, occasional Mass-attenders are present, they similarly don't give the responses--and this was true before any changes were in the offing.

So if Mr. Roberts and his folks have had different experiences at Mass, I am wondering if their pastors took the approach I did--focusing on the positive and trying to keep folks together--or did their pastors reflect the negativity of the NCR? I'll never know, but: I think had I chosen to get up, week after week, and complain bitterly about this, sighing and rolling my eyes over the new translation, we might have a very different experience here of the new translation. If Mr. Roberts and any of his readers are experiencing negativity around them in the pews, I wonder how much of it is the fruit of the attitude he, himself, adopted, and which the NCR fostered as much as it could, among priests and laity.

One of the truly rich claims of the NCR crowd is that the new translation represents an attack on Vatican II.

This is utterly ridiculous. It is, not to put too fine a point on it: false.

The key facts the NCR and those who take its view are obscuring is this: the "problems" they identify are not with the translation, but with the prayers of the Mass itself, as revised after--and, putatively, in accord with--the Second Vatican Council. To put it bluntly, their problem is with the prayers of the Vatican II Mass. They don't like what Pope Paul VI and those who assisted him, came up with after the Council.

The NCR and others of like mind rely on a fuzzy recollection of Vatican II and the resulting "new Mass." Here's the sequence:

* The bishops at Vatican II issued a document, Sacrosanctum Concilium, in which a number of issues related to the liturgy were raised; and calling for some revision of the Church's liturgy. The Council did not get into a lot of specifics about this or that change; and the surprising truth is, many changes associated with Vatican II were never mentioned at the Council--nor, for that matter, were they ever mandated following the Council.

* Rather quickly, Pope Paul VI--who presided over the latter portion of the Council, after the death of Blessed Pope John XXIII--appointed a team of experts usually called "the concilium." This was a group of bishops, priests and others who, presumably, had the expertise to put into concrete detail what the Council called for. There was, and remains, controversy over what they did, whether it went too far, or not far enough, in relation to the Council's directives; but in any case, they produced what we can call the "new" Mass: the revised order of Mass that is still in use to this day.

* That Missal, in Latin, has changed only slightly since 1970 when it was issued. Simply put, the Missal sitting on altars across the U.S. is the Mass of Vatican II.

* It was translated rather quickly; in fact, there was a period, between the Council and the adoption of the new Missal, in which the Mass changed several times, and there were provisional translations used at that time. But it was understood that further work of translating would follow. To some degree, that's a necessary consequence of using the vernacular; the Latin doesn't need to change precisely because its not a language in active use, and thus subject to evolution or drift in understood meanings.

* The English translation adopted in 1970 is the one that was just recently set aside, after a lengthy process of adopting a new translation. The new translation, for good or ill, took a different approach, from a "freer" style to a more direct style of translating. This is where the NCR and others focus their criticism--they consider the more direct method of translating--which arose from directives from Blessed Pope John Paul II--to be wrong.

OK, they can raise those objections. No one would claim the pope's directives about translating the the liturgy to be infallible or irreformable. A future pope may take a different approach. And, as far as I know, the NCR and likeminded folks raised their objections at the time.

However; the pope was not--in the NCR's appealing terminology--being a dictator or out of bounds in giving the direction he gave. To put it simply: that's the pope's job! His letter, Liturgiam authenticam, makes his case for his directives. You can disagree; you can wish he did differently. But it strikes me as bizarre, and ultimately very damaging, to seek--as the NCR does--at every turn to undermine the pope in carrying out his responsibilities.

Now, the idea has gotten currency that choices in translating fall into neat categories: either "free" or "strict" translation. Rather, it's a continuum between these poles; you can't really go all the way to one extreme or the other, but you can be more one way, or the other. The new translation is more toward the "strict" pole, but it isn't "slavish" about it. Every translator must make choices and compromises--that's just how it works.

Also, the NCR and many of like mind, conveys the idea that Latin is so foreign, so different, that translation is guesswork, that terms in English just don't line up with what the Latin says.

This is simply wrong. Latin is a very precise language, for one; and second, English contains a vast quantity of Latin. They have so much in common, it's not that great a leap to move from Latin to English. Not being familiar with Chinese, or Hindi, or the native languages of pre-Columbian America, or of Africa, I could readily believe that translating from Latin into those languages might indeed occasion serious leaps and approximations. But this argument falls completely flat with Latin in relation to English.

* Be that as it may, the real substance of the complaints voiced by the NCR and others in agreement with its stance isn't about the inevitable zigs or zags of the translators' choices, but what the underlying prayers themselves say. Some examples:

(1) "And with your spirit"
(2) "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault"
(3) "I believe"
(4) "visible and invisible"
(5) "consubstantial"
(6) "for you and for many"
(7) "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof" etc.

Well, here's your problem, NCR: what you object to isn't original with the new, English translation, but is part-and-parcel of the Latin prayers being translated; the Latin prayers revised and adopted, after the Council. What you don't like is the substance of the prayers...themselves.

Let's grant the point the NCR makes about each of these: that in one way or the other, the ideas expressed in these parts of the prayers are inferior; misleading or somehow fail to convey what we believe. That they should be changed. I actually think this position is wrong--but let's give the NCR the full benefit of the doubt, and say each and every critique on this subject is 100% correct.

So what to do about that?

The answer is, the problem is not in the "translation" at all, but in the original prayers being translated. Therefore, fixing these problems is not the task of the translator at all, but the pope and the bishops.

The funny thing is, NCR and its crowd complains that all these represent a serious attack on Vatican II. Funny, because neither the Council itself made any such claims--none of these passages in the prayers were singled out by the Council for revision--nor did the experts, chosen by Paul VI, see any conflict between "And with your spirit" or "for you and for many" with the Council.

They recommended and implemented pretty dramatic changes in the Mass--yet these items they did not change.

So the NCR's solution is to have translators deliberately obscure the meaning of the underlying Latin prayers; to misrepresent, to you and everyone, what those prayers say. Their approach is to promote the idea that Latin, being an old, dead language, is so very hard to translate, and really, who can say what "et cum spiritu tuo" and "pro multis" or "sub tectum meam" really mean anyway?

If NCR wants to be honest about it, they won't focus on the translation--because the translation's purpose is to convey, accurately, what the prayers say. The problems they cite with the new translation as being so terrible are issues not of wording or syntax, but of substance: they don't like what the prayers actually say.

Well, fine--then take it up with the bishops, and ask them to fix the prayers, in the Latin original. Change "pro multis" to "pro omnes"...in the Latin; change "et cum spiritu tuo" to "et tecum," etc.

Most folks have, or will, move on. The new translation presents many opportunities for new understanding of the prayers of the Mass and of our Faith. How helpful it might have been for the NCR to focus on what's positive. But the editors and writers at the NCR just can't seem to do that. Instead it's approach is bitter and, frankly, reactionary.

In a comment I posted at NCR earlier, I referred to this continuing rear-guard action as an "operatic farce." Because it's so over the top, and both comic and tragic. One part of me finds it laughable; yet the damage is real, and there's nothing funny about that.

Monday, December 26, 2011

The Humanism of Norman Rockwell


Today I stopped down to the Dayton Art Institute to see the Norman Rockwell exhibit, which goes to February I think. It cost $16, for which I imagine I could have browsed the rest of the museum; but I was ready to go once I'd been through the special exhibit.

I heard about this via the principal of Piqua Catholic; our kids were scheduled to go, and I was going to join them. But as often happens, I got busy and forgot. Had I gone, I'd have liked to help the kids see the humanism of Rockwell--his reverence for the human being and all we experience. There is something very Catholic about this Yankee Protestant artist whose artwork didn't betray much explicit religiosity.

Rockwell was--and I think still is--scorned and diminished as a mere illustrator; he spent his life creating artwork that appeared in magazines and advertisements. His famous covers for the Saturday Evening Post were constrained by the wishes of his employer. They tended to be sedate and whimsical, seldom edgy, and even then, only several decades along. They were overwhelmingly white, Waspish and middle-class--to some degree, at least, expressing the culture of the magazine.

Is this why he is dismissed? If so, I might point out how many great artists created their masterpieces for pay.

Is it that his work is not terribly original? Or that he lacked technical proficiency? I can't believe the latter. I am no art critic, but I find many things in his work to admire: his use of color, light and shade; his ability to convey so much emotion--and to tell a story. As the plaques the Dayton Art Institute placed near his works pointed out, his works seem simple, until you look more closely.

Its hard to recall everything, but there was one--which the accompanying sign said was unpublished--entitled (if I recall correctly) "War News." Four men in a diner. The cook/proprietor nearest us, his face turned away from the radio, but not toward us--he is glancing perhaps to the grill, or the door, or the cash register, or another customer out of view. But his face shows he is listening to the radio. The other three men are customers on the other side of the counter. Two men are older--the sort of men likely to be home during World War II. The third customer's face is obscured, but the features that are visible suggest a young man, and he is in uniform. I took him to be a soldier, perhaps on leave, or perhaps about to ship out. Everyone's body language shows interest. No joy; no fear exactly, but anxiety--and some signs of hope.

All our wars in my memory were such that I neither knew anyone in them, nor did I reasonably fear the outcome. In my time, war dispatches were watched on TV or read online. I cannot personally describe listening to the radio, in the context of a war which our nation might lose. Yet that is what this work depicted--and I, at least, felt it.

The written descriptions accompanying the artworks said that the Post had a policy that "people of color" could not be depicted, except as servants. If so, that is shocking--and revealing of a different world from what we know. Is Rockwell to blame for going along? Did he fail to be more prophetic? Well, let us consider this.

I noted one painting, of a boy on a train, dressed very nicely--suggesting some wealth. He is travelling alone, perhaps suggesting he is a sort of little prince. He is looking at the bill--the accompanying caption said he is figuring out the tip. Nearby stands a waiter--a tall, strong black man--who gazes down upon the boy, smiling. Supposedly he is the inferior.

Yet while he smiles and is at ease, and shows human concern--he is ready, it seems, to help the boy if asked; the boy is frowning--more out of uncertainty than disapproval--and does not seem even to notice the black man. Rockwell is sometimes diminished as an illustrator of a "Leave it to Beaver" idealization of American life. So what is this? Am I the only one who hopes the boy will notice the man, and look up to him? Is that a projection into the work--or is there something in what the artist tried to convey that evoked that in me? What do you make of the fact that I am 60 years removed from the work--and a wider, cultural gap yawns between my world and that which first viewed this work--and yet it communicates so powerfully to me? Is that not art?

Again, I am no art critic; however, I suspect Rockwell was dismissed to some degree at least, because he went against the fashion--as defined by the highbrows at least. Most of the trends in 20th century art go totally contrary to where Rockwell went.

Rockwell was keenly interested in the human person. He did not distort human beings--he discovered in them a wide range of expression. And he was primarily interested in the human being above all.

An example: in the exhibit were two portraits: of General Eisenhower and of Senator John F. Kennedy. And I noticed each featured the same device: the faces were illustrated with sumptuous detail, while the clothing was barely there. Just enough to frame the subject. It was as if the artist was saying, "let me focus your gaze on what's really interesting--what's truly revealing. And so he did.

Now, something fascinating happened after I had finished the exhibit. In the last room--where all the covers of the Post created by Rockwell were shown in succession--were comfortable couches, where several folks were relaxing. After I finished looking at the artwork, I took a seat and prayed my office. As I did, I looked up at the folks sitting in a couch catty-cornered to me--and it took my breath away.

A grandfather (I suppose) and three boys, all clearly brothers, ranging (I would guess) from 16 to 8 or 10. The grandfather's (nearest to me) head was down, eyes closed. He was napping. The older boys--furthest away--were leaning back, looking bored or tired. And the youngest was leaning forward, his back and face arced upward, gazing intently at something in front of them. All this was in profile to me.

It was a scene straight out of a Rockwell painting. As I studied them--until I was noticed and looked away politely!--I could see exactly the sorts of details Rockwell himself brought out in his works. The fascinating, appealing details of ordinary human life. Nothing exalted--except that simply being human, being alive, is truly wonderful. I consciously tried to remember what I saw, so I could describe it to you, and not forget what happened.

Now, contrast that with so much of the art of Rockwell's time--before and during--in which the human being becomes fuzzy and blurred; then becomes blobs of color or reduced to mechanisms; until the human being disappears altogether. (Look up "Nude descending a staircase" to see what I mean.) Meanwhile, Rockwell, who could have depicted anything he liked, found nothing so interesting to show us as the human being.

Which world view feels safer for your future?

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Looking for a miracle? (Christmas homily)

In Saint Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, he said:
“Jews seek for a sign, Greeks look for wisdom.”

Another way to say that would be,
some of us want to be impressed with miracles;
others need to be impressed by a good argument.

Which are you looking for this Christmas?

If your faith is frayed or your hope is unsteady?

If you want a miracle, the fact is, miracles happen all the time.

I mean real miracles--things that science cannot explain.

They’ve happened to me.

I remember visiting a patient in the hospital--
arriving as the doctor said,
“your wife won’t make it, say your goodbyes.”
The husband asked me to anoint his wife,
and as everyone was sobbing, that’s what I did.

The doctors said she wouldn’t make it--
but she’s still alive today.

The other day, NPR reported on a miracle:
a boy had a terrible infection spreading rapidly over his body.
The family prayed to Blessed Kateri--
they pinned a medal for her on his pillow next to him.
Like Blessed Kateri, the boy was Native American;
like Kateri, his face was being disfigured by an illness.

The day he received the medal
is the day the infection was stopped and reversed.

I could go on…

But the point is, if miracles were what it took to convince us,
Why would we need more
than the Lord’s miracle of multiplying loaves,
or raising the dead--or rising from the dead himself?

We ask for signs--and we get them--and it’s not enough.

Or, we don’t even notice it happens…
like a child born in a stable at midnight.

So if signs and miracles won’t convince us, how about wisdom?

We could use some wisdom.

In a time when we put all our eggs in the basket
of finance and wealth,
how about, “you cannot serve God and mammon”?

When we boast of our military might,
how we can reach anywhere,
strike anything, and defeat anyone,
how about “Peter, put your sword away!
He who lives by the sword, dies by the sword”?

The Light that came into the world on Christmas
is not what we looked for.
Neither do we really understand it.

It’s power--but not the kind that impresses us,
such as the power of wealth, of fame, of technology and might.
It’s wisdom--but not the kind we produce.

So when God becomes a child
and when God allows himself to be crucified,
we don’t know what to make of it.

If you came today to hear the music, it is beautiful;
but the voices will soon fade.
If you came to see the lights, the manger,
it will all be packed away before long.
If you came to kindle a memory,
how melancholy to look backward!

Just like the first Christmas,
the Light we need is easy to miss.
Just as easy as missing the miracle
of His Death and Resurrection
being made present on this altar--in front of us.
His Body and Blood given as Food, right here.

We look for a miracle--
but the truth is, the Miracle is looking for you!

You’re here because He’s seeking you.

After I’m finished speaking, what will He say to you?

“I don’t need your wisdom, and I don’t want your power.
I want your heart.”

If what you want to see is a world lit up
with the hum and energy of human power and light,
we have that; a satellite will take the picture
and you can download it when you get home tonight!

But how about human hearts lit up by Christ’s light?
Purified by his mercy and set aflame by the Holy Spirit?
Human hearts: reservoirs of the peace only Christ can give?
Human hearts: fountains of mercy from the one who said,
“as you have been forgiven, forgive”?

Imagine a world filled with that Light?

Christ called you here tonight:
To see if your heart was available?