As you know, our bishops, working with the pope,
have prepared a new English translation
of our Mass prayers.
Next weekend, our parishes will begin
using some of the newly translated prayers.
This is with the permission of the Archbishop. *
While we’ll start using all the prayers
at the end of November,
the Archbishop allowed for a few to be used
starting in September.
The three prayers we will begin using next weekend are:
the Gloria, the “Holy, Holy,”
and the new “Memorial Acclamations,”
which are the response when the priest says,
“Mystery of Faith.”
(At 7 am:
even though we don’t always sing these at this Mass,
we’ll still start reciting them so we get used to them.
In your pews, you’ll see this red booklet (hold up booklet).
Let’s look at it together.
This contains all the people’s prayers
that are the same week in, week out.
When Advent comes,
we’ll be using this booklet for the whole Mass;
but we’ll use it for these few prayers to start with.
Let’s take a look together, starting with the Sanctus,
on page 10: it changes only a little.
Instead of “Lord God of power and might,”
it will be “Lord God of hosts.”
You might wonder, why this change?
This is a phrase straight from Scripture.
“Hosts” means “armies”—but here it means
the heavenly hosts: God’s “armies” of angels.
One of the goals with the new translation
was to bring out more clearly the Scriptures
and Scriptural images being referred to.
On the next page (page 11), you can see the three choices
we will have for the Memorial Acclamation.
The first one looks new; but it is actually what was written,
in the new Mass right after the Council.
The reason it’s new to us is that it’s only now
being translated in a direct way.
Till now, what we were using at Mass were loose paraphrases of this.
So the bishops decided we should use this prayer,
and they also reworked two of the ones we’ve been using,
and they are dropping two others.
Now let’s look at the Gloria, back on page 3.
This changes a bit more, and it’s worth looking at
because it helps illustrate the reasons
the Mass needed to be translated anew.
If you look at this—keeping in mind
what we’ve been used to—you’ll notice right away
the new translation puts back in whole phrases
that were left out of the prior translation.
Remember, when the Mass was first translated into English,
right after the Second Vatican Council, they felt the need to move quickly.
Everyone then assumed the translation we’ve been using all this time
would be revised.
No one expected it to wait 40 years!
So, now we’ll be praying the Gloria more closely
with what it says in Latin—and in Spanish—
and in German—and so forth.
Not only that, this revised translation is now much more in line
with what Orthodox and Protestant Christians say when they use this prayer.
You can read more about it in the bulletin.
Now, let me explain two other things
about how we’re going to approach the new translation.
Starting at the end of October,
all the priests will take time, over several weeks,
to address the rest of the translation in their homilies.
We’ll be able to learn and appreciate the Mass better—
which is something a lot of folks want to do.
Also, starting next week, when we sing these prayers,
we’re going to use the simple, chant setting
that is contained in these books.
We are trying to “ramp up” and take this on
piece-by-piece, so it’s not overwhelming.
I do ask that you resist the temptation to “borrow”
one of these booklets. We’re counting on
these staying in church for at least the next year.
If you want a copy, please call the office
and we will happily sell you one for a dollar—
but we can’t have them disappear from the pews!
OK, we’ve been talking about the Mass.
Did you notice, in the second reading,
Saint Paul talks about the importance
of our “spiritual worship”—
and offering our bodies as a “living sacrifice”?
What he is saying is that how we live our daily lives
is a mirror of what we do in our worship together.
On Sunday, we all join the priest in offering
the Sacrifice of Christ—the Mass, the Eucharist.
The rest of the time, we’re spread out, in our community,
being a bearer of Christ to others.
If we came to church today,
and found the tabernacle was gone;
or if we found out there was no Mass;
how would we react?
We’d be broken hearted: we’d ask, where is the Lord?
We come here to meet Christ here;
This parish, each of us, is like a living tabernacle,
so that people know Jesus is with them.
The Mass is the sacrifice the Church offers,
acting as one;
our day-to-day life is the “living sacrifice”
each of us offers as individuals.
In the Mass, Jesus gives us everything,
including his true Body and Blood.
Paul says, we give exactly the same back in return!
We give our body and blood, our lives, our soul,
our choices and decisions, to Christ.
Oh but it’s hard!
What would change, if we truly gave Jesus our tongue?
If these eyes belong to Christ,
would we go all the same places online?
Giving Christ our hands, our feet might mean
we spend more time helping others or spreading Faith.
But this gives a good way to pray:
At this Mass—or later—
we might think about the gifts and talents we have,
in our bodies, in our minds and selves, and asking:
Christ, these are yours.
How shall they serve you today?
* I didn't think it was important, in my homily, to go into the following detailed explanation.
Archbishop Schnurr has given every parish permission to begin using these prayer texts starting September 10-11. I asked, and received, his permission to start a week earlier, because we are doing a series of talks at Mass, at one parish, regarding stewardship, and I wanted to address this subject, in a homily, before beginning to use these new prayers. The opportune time for that was this weekend, not next; and I thought it would be better if the weekend we started using these texts followed right after that homily.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Saturday, August 20, 2011
The Church, the lonely prophet (Sunday homily)
In today’s Gospel the Apostles face a choice:
Play it safe; or a make a commitment
that changes everything.
When the Lord asks an easy question:
“What are folks saying about me?”
They all offer the safe answer: “a prophet.”
Then, Jesus puts them on the spot:
“And who do you say that I am?”
They all fall silent. Waiting for someone else to answer.
Simon steps out alone:
“You are the Anointed One: the Son of the Living God.”
Even early in life—when we’re kids in school—
we face the choice of melting into the crowd,
or standing up and standing out, for what is right.
It’s not fair that others hang back,
waiting for us—but that’s life.
That gnawing in your stomach? That’s normal.
That voice that tells you to speak up?
That’s your conscience.
And however hard it is to do,
what feels even worse is the regret
that comes from knowing what you should have done,
but didn’t find the nerve to do.
Simon commits himself.
That’s when Jesus says: “You are Peter—you are Rock—
And upon this Rock I will build my Church.”
Jesus makes a promise here:
The Rock will stand, the Church will stand; and she has.
Peter was not super-human. Remember his story.
He was a fisherman; he was part of a small business
with his brother Andrew, as well as James and John,
who all joined him in following Jesus.
Peter had a wife and likely had children.
So, like a lot of us, he had a lot to lose.
One of the things this brings up
is what this passage tells us about the Church.
We believe that Christ has promised
the Church would stand firm till the end.
We believe Christ protects the Church,
in a supernatural way, from teaching error.
When we talk about the pope,
or a council of the whole church,
being “infallible,” this is what we mean.
The first reading helps us understand why.
God’s People were in trouble;
God empowers a new leader,
to be a “peg in a sure spot”; a father to Jerusalem.
The pope is our “holy father,”
But not for his sake; for our sake.
To say the Church, the pope, are “infallible”
has to be understood correctly.
It doesn’t mean he knows who will win the World Series.
It doesn’t even mean he knows the answer to every question
about God, or Jesus, someone could ask.
But it does mean this:
on those special occasions when the Church as a whole,
or the pope acting for the Church,
gives formal teaching about God, about right and wrong,
then God acts to prevent the Church, or the pope,
from including error in that teaching.
Now, if you want, you will find popes
whose lives were far from admirable.
And you don’t have to look long for a story
that claims the Church messed up on this or that matter.
First, I’d say, don’t believe all you hear.
The facts are often otherwise.
But ultimately, all anyone ends up “proving”
is what we already knew:
that Christ built his Church not from angels,
but from sinful people.
As important as the popes are as leaders,
Christ has kept his promise through more than popes.
We’ve had bold popes; but sometimes they need help:
Here comes St. Catherine of Siena!
Here comes a Little Flower, a St. Francis, a St. Benedict;
Jesus has kept his promise!
Again, it’s not surprising that too often,
too many in the Church—including ordinary folks like us—
were willing to melt into the crowd,
rather than speak up and be alone.
But what we ought to notice is how often,
how constantly, the Church has done what Peter did:
speak up, even when all alone.
You may have heard the claim
that the Church approved of slavery. That’s false.
What’s true is that the Church was often alone
in condemning it; and wasn’t listened to.
You’ve heard the charge that the Church
didn’t do much to oppose Nazism. Again, that is false.
What’s true is that the Church
condemned anti-semitism and fascism.
No less than the New York Times called Pope Pius XII
“a lonely voice” in the darkness.
The Church took great risks in hiding Jews
and others from the Holocaust,
and saved more than anyone other than the Allied armies.
That has often been our role; to be the lonely voice,
the prophet who speaks up to defending human dignity—
and when we do, we are attacked as opposing “progress.”
Pope Paul VI was very alone when he said contraception
wasn’t going to work out very well for society.
When abortion spread—as Pope Paul foresaw—
The Church was often alone in opposing that.
Lately, we are told that research
that destroys tiny, unborn children is justified,
once again, as necessary for “human progress”!
Nevermind that it’s not true.
Research that does not take life
is actually working better.
Everybody likes a prophet we agree with;
We can’t stand a prophet who says we’re wrong.
But that’s exactly when we need the prophet, isn’t it?
Play it safe; or a make a commitment
that changes everything.
When the Lord asks an easy question:
“What are folks saying about me?”
They all offer the safe answer: “a prophet.”
Then, Jesus puts them on the spot:
“And who do you say that I am?”
They all fall silent. Waiting for someone else to answer.
Simon steps out alone:
“You are the Anointed One: the Son of the Living God.”
Even early in life—when we’re kids in school—
we face the choice of melting into the crowd,
or standing up and standing out, for what is right.
It’s not fair that others hang back,
waiting for us—but that’s life.
That gnawing in your stomach? That’s normal.
That voice that tells you to speak up?
That’s your conscience.
And however hard it is to do,
what feels even worse is the regret
that comes from knowing what you should have done,
but didn’t find the nerve to do.
Simon commits himself.
That’s when Jesus says: “You are Peter—you are Rock—
And upon this Rock I will build my Church.”
Jesus makes a promise here:
The Rock will stand, the Church will stand; and she has.
Peter was not super-human. Remember his story.
He was a fisherman; he was part of a small business
with his brother Andrew, as well as James and John,
who all joined him in following Jesus.
Peter had a wife and likely had children.
So, like a lot of us, he had a lot to lose.
One of the things this brings up
is what this passage tells us about the Church.
We believe that Christ has promised
the Church would stand firm till the end.
We believe Christ protects the Church,
in a supernatural way, from teaching error.
When we talk about the pope,
or a council of the whole church,
being “infallible,” this is what we mean.
The first reading helps us understand why.
God’s People were in trouble;
God empowers a new leader,
to be a “peg in a sure spot”; a father to Jerusalem.
The pope is our “holy father,”
But not for his sake; for our sake.
To say the Church, the pope, are “infallible”
has to be understood correctly.
It doesn’t mean he knows who will win the World Series.
It doesn’t even mean he knows the answer to every question
about God, or Jesus, someone could ask.
But it does mean this:
on those special occasions when the Church as a whole,
or the pope acting for the Church,
gives formal teaching about God, about right and wrong,
then God acts to prevent the Church, or the pope,
from including error in that teaching.
Now, if you want, you will find popes
whose lives were far from admirable.
And you don’t have to look long for a story
that claims the Church messed up on this or that matter.
First, I’d say, don’t believe all you hear.
The facts are often otherwise.
But ultimately, all anyone ends up “proving”
is what we already knew:
that Christ built his Church not from angels,
but from sinful people.
As important as the popes are as leaders,
Christ has kept his promise through more than popes.
We’ve had bold popes; but sometimes they need help:
Here comes St. Catherine of Siena!
Here comes a Little Flower, a St. Francis, a St. Benedict;
Jesus has kept his promise!
Again, it’s not surprising that too often,
too many in the Church—including ordinary folks like us—
were willing to melt into the crowd,
rather than speak up and be alone.
But what we ought to notice is how often,
how constantly, the Church has done what Peter did:
speak up, even when all alone.
You may have heard the claim
that the Church approved of slavery. That’s false.
What’s true is that the Church was often alone
in condemning it; and wasn’t listened to.
You’ve heard the charge that the Church
didn’t do much to oppose Nazism. Again, that is false.
What’s true is that the Church
condemned anti-semitism and fascism.
No less than the New York Times called Pope Pius XII
“a lonely voice” in the darkness.
The Church took great risks in hiding Jews
and others from the Holocaust,
and saved more than anyone other than the Allied armies.
That has often been our role; to be the lonely voice,
the prophet who speaks up to defending human dignity—
and when we do, we are attacked as opposing “progress.”
Pope Paul VI was very alone when he said contraception
wasn’t going to work out very well for society.
When abortion spread—as Pope Paul foresaw—
The Church was often alone in opposing that.
Lately, we are told that research
that destroys tiny, unborn children is justified,
once again, as necessary for “human progress”!
Nevermind that it’s not true.
Research that does not take life
is actually working better.
Everybody likes a prophet we agree with;
We can’t stand a prophet who says we’re wrong.
But that’s exactly when we need the prophet, isn’t it?
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
What do you want to hear?
Sounds crazy, right? It's August, yet I'm writing homilies for two months from now!
Not so crazy, actually; I'm looking ahead to a series of homilies the other priests and I will give in the weeks leading up to the first Sunday of Advent, when we begin using the new and improved translation of the Mass.
I wanted to look at the readings assigned for those Sundays, as well as look at the more notable changes in the translation of the Mass, and think about the best way--over five or six weeks--to touch on each of these things. I was looking for possible connections and themes, for ways to organize the material, and--I hope--make it more appealing than a mere laundry list.
I've only begun, so more work is needed to flesh things out.
Here is a question for you--and your answers may help me develop these homilies:
What questions or issues would you want to hear addressed about the improved translation of the Mass? Is there anything else about the Mass you'd like to hear explained?
Not so crazy, actually; I'm looking ahead to a series of homilies the other priests and I will give in the weeks leading up to the first Sunday of Advent, when we begin using the new and improved translation of the Mass.
I wanted to look at the readings assigned for those Sundays, as well as look at the more notable changes in the translation of the Mass, and think about the best way--over five or six weeks--to touch on each of these things. I was looking for possible connections and themes, for ways to organize the material, and--I hope--make it more appealing than a mere laundry list.
I've only begun, so more work is needed to flesh things out.
Here is a question for you--and your answers may help me develop these homilies:
What questions or issues would you want to hear addressed about the improved translation of the Mass? Is there anything else about the Mass you'd like to hear explained?
Monday, August 15, 2011
My Experimental 'Spirit of Vatican II' Liturgy
Tonight, I did an experiment with the liturgy, in the (true) spirit of Vatican II.
For the Solemnity of the Assumption, we had the schola present; we chanted the introit--in English--as well as the offertory and communion. In fact, the only hymn we sang was the Salve Regina at the conclusion.
We did use some Latin and Greek: Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus and Agnus Dei.
I chanted the Gospel, the Roman Canon and a lot else.
Oh--and I offered the Mass toward the Lord.
Before Mass, I explained what I was going to do; and then I elaborated on it during my homily.
I chose this occasion because it was not an obligatory Mass, and I'd warned in the bulletin there'd be lots of incense and chant, so I figured that would be something of a clue.
But I didn't decide, until 15 minutes before, to go ahead with ad orientem.
I let folks know they didn't have to like it, but they might; I invited them to let me know what they thought about it. (A few gave comments and those where positive ones.)
In my homily, I explained how Pope Benedict has prompted this reconsideration of ad orientem, I attempted to explain how, after Vatican II, some things were given so much emphasis that other important aspects of the liturgy were obscured, and I explained how the priest needs to decrease, so that Christ may increase. I explained that I wasn't planning on doing this all the time, just now and then.
We had about 40 folks present.
Now I'm having some dinner.
Update (ca. 11:55 pm)...
Well, I had my dinner, and had some time to think about the Mass tonight, so now I can share some further thoughts about offering Mass ad orientem. (Welcome Fr. Z readers!)
It's not the first time I've done it; but I haven't offered Mass ad orientem in the parish many times other than privately. I was a little nervous, because I thought, is someone going to get upset about this? Really upset? And it didn't help that I am getting over a cold and developed a bit of a cough as I'm finishing the Canon (singing it); it was really hard finishing the Per Ipsum.
The servers, including several adults, in cassock and surplice, were excellent. The three boys were all brothers, sons of the music director. The schola was excellent. The acoustics in Saint Boniface--now that the carpeting is gone--are excellent. The one downside of ad orientem was I couldn't see the clouds of incense I know the servers were offering behind me, during the elevations.
I might also add, that having a procession carried out well is very edifying.
I am sorry I forgot my biretta, but--it is just as well. It was probably better I didn't wear it; as well, that I didn't use the Roman Canon in Latin, as I was going to do initially. Why do I say that?
Because, as it was, it should have been clear we were offering the newer form of the Mass, not the extraordinary form. Had I used a biretta, and used Latin, it might have been less clear.
Finally, I have to tell you, there is something tremendously powerful, for the priest, in offering Mass toward the Lord. For one, the architecture of the church makes so much more sense. As I offered the Sacrifice, I was aware of the beautiful sanctuary lamp over my head, I was gazing at the massive crucifix ahead of all of us, and above that, the Good Shepherd window in the apse. The light from the evening sun poured in through the windows, a dappled gold light.
I knew everyone was behind me, but--I was there alone; but not alone, with the Lord.
A couple of curious things happened, none of which I orchestrated. The servers were all kneeling behind me, at the top step of the altar, as I made my communion; they remained kneeling for communion.
Then, when I went down to distribute the Eucharist to the faithful, it seemed a lot of folks received on the tongue--more than usual. And there seemed a tremendous sense of awe among all who came forward. It's hard to know if that's actually what others felt, unless folks present say so, or just my perception.
For the Solemnity of the Assumption, we had the schola present; we chanted the introit--in English--as well as the offertory and communion. In fact, the only hymn we sang was the Salve Regina at the conclusion.
We did use some Latin and Greek: Kyrie, Gloria, Sanctus and Agnus Dei.
I chanted the Gospel, the Roman Canon and a lot else.
Oh--and I offered the Mass toward the Lord.
Before Mass, I explained what I was going to do; and then I elaborated on it during my homily.
I chose this occasion because it was not an obligatory Mass, and I'd warned in the bulletin there'd be lots of incense and chant, so I figured that would be something of a clue.
But I didn't decide, until 15 minutes before, to go ahead with ad orientem.
I let folks know they didn't have to like it, but they might; I invited them to let me know what they thought about it. (A few gave comments and those where positive ones.)
In my homily, I explained how Pope Benedict has prompted this reconsideration of ad orientem, I attempted to explain how, after Vatican II, some things were given so much emphasis that other important aspects of the liturgy were obscured, and I explained how the priest needs to decrease, so that Christ may increase. I explained that I wasn't planning on doing this all the time, just now and then.
We had about 40 folks present.
Now I'm having some dinner.
Update (ca. 11:55 pm)...
Well, I had my dinner, and had some time to think about the Mass tonight, so now I can share some further thoughts about offering Mass ad orientem. (Welcome Fr. Z readers!)
It's not the first time I've done it; but I haven't offered Mass ad orientem in the parish many times other than privately. I was a little nervous, because I thought, is someone going to get upset about this? Really upset? And it didn't help that I am getting over a cold and developed a bit of a cough as I'm finishing the Canon (singing it); it was really hard finishing the Per Ipsum.
The servers, including several adults, in cassock and surplice, were excellent. The three boys were all brothers, sons of the music director. The schola was excellent. The acoustics in Saint Boniface--now that the carpeting is gone--are excellent. The one downside of ad orientem was I couldn't see the clouds of incense I know the servers were offering behind me, during the elevations.
I might also add, that having a procession carried out well is very edifying.
I am sorry I forgot my biretta, but--it is just as well. It was probably better I didn't wear it; as well, that I didn't use the Roman Canon in Latin, as I was going to do initially. Why do I say that?
Because, as it was, it should have been clear we were offering the newer form of the Mass, not the extraordinary form. Had I used a biretta, and used Latin, it might have been less clear.
Finally, I have to tell you, there is something tremendously powerful, for the priest, in offering Mass toward the Lord. For one, the architecture of the church makes so much more sense. As I offered the Sacrifice, I was aware of the beautiful sanctuary lamp over my head, I was gazing at the massive crucifix ahead of all of us, and above that, the Good Shepherd window in the apse. The light from the evening sun poured in through the windows, a dappled gold light.
I knew everyone was behind me, but--I was there alone; but not alone, with the Lord.
A couple of curious things happened, none of which I orchestrated. The servers were all kneeling behind me, at the top step of the altar, as I made my communion; they remained kneeling for communion.
Then, when I went down to distribute the Eucharist to the faithful, it seemed a lot of folks received on the tongue--more than usual. And there seemed a tremendous sense of awe among all who came forward. It's hard to know if that's actually what others felt, unless folks present say so, or just my perception.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
'Send her away' (Sunday homily)
Some passages in Scripture are easily misunderstood, such as today’s Gospel.
Why does our Lord Jesus act this way?
It’s not what you may think. Let’s dig deeper.
Let’s back up to the beginning of this Gospel:
Matthew begins with a genealogy,
a family tree: from Abraham, to David,
down to Joseph, whose wife was Mary.
Matthew calls attention to particular people
in the family tree; he makes sure you know about
the outsiders and non-Jews in the Messiah’s lineage.
Even the “insiders” were really outsiders:
King David was an outsider at one point;
God’s people were freed slaves, and so forth.
Even Jesus was an “outsider.”
Remember, St. Joseph was not his natural father;
our Lord had to be adopted by Joseph,
to be part of his lineage.
Matthew highlights the Magi from the East—
more “outsiders”; then, after the Sermon on the Mount,
the first people Jesus heals are outsiders:
a leper, and a Roman soldier’s servant.
All this is necessary background to this shocking conversation
between the Lord and this woman.
Look again: it is not Jesus who has a problem
with this outsider woman. It is his disciples.
They are the ones who say, “send her away.”
So why does Jesus say these things?
He is saying out loud what his apostles think—
He wants to draw out her faith,
And widen the hearts of his apostles.
Notice, the Lord praises her for “great faith”;
Just last Sunday, he said to Peter,
“oh you of little faith,” even though Peter’s faith
was the greatest of the Twelve.
The Lord is preparing these men for their mission.
It won’t be long before they’ll have folks like this woman coming in by the droves,
wanting to become Christians.
Their hearts have to be a lot wider.
Ours too.
Who are the outsiders, the “those people,”
we might prefer don’t show up?
I think if we want this church to be packed every Sunday,
we could do a lot to make that happen,
if we’re willing to:
> Reach out to family or friends we may be at odds with;
> Step out and visit folks. We did this once,
visiting some of our fellow parishioners.
We’ll do it again soon.
> This isn’t just about inviting folks to church;
first we have to be willing to invite folks into our lives.
Share a meal; spend time; be a friend.
Let them see Christ in you first;
then they’ll be more likely to ask about
how and where you get this life from Christ.
Yes: I’m asking you to be an “evangelist”!
Here’s what I think is a fairly obvious application.
What about all the folks in our area
who are Spanish-speaking?
Are we willing to hear Spanish prayed—
even just for a few prayers and songs—in this church?
This isn’t about anything else
but going the extra mile to make folks feel welcome.
Let’s turn it around:
if you were living in Mexico, not speaking Spanish,
what—from the local parish there—
would make you feel welcome?
Jesus said, “My house shall be a house of prayer
for all peoples.”
What do we really think he wants us to do?
Not what we are comfortable doing.
Why does our Lord Jesus act this way?
It’s not what you may think. Let’s dig deeper.
Let’s back up to the beginning of this Gospel:
Matthew begins with a genealogy,
a family tree: from Abraham, to David,
down to Joseph, whose wife was Mary.
Matthew calls attention to particular people
in the family tree; he makes sure you know about
the outsiders and non-Jews in the Messiah’s lineage.
Even the “insiders” were really outsiders:
King David was an outsider at one point;
God’s people were freed slaves, and so forth.
Even Jesus was an “outsider.”
Remember, St. Joseph was not his natural father;
our Lord had to be adopted by Joseph,
to be part of his lineage.
Matthew highlights the Magi from the East—
more “outsiders”; then, after the Sermon on the Mount,
the first people Jesus heals are outsiders:
a leper, and a Roman soldier’s servant.
All this is necessary background to this shocking conversation
between the Lord and this woman.
Look again: it is not Jesus who has a problem
with this outsider woman. It is his disciples.
They are the ones who say, “send her away.”
So why does Jesus say these things?
He is saying out loud what his apostles think—
He wants to draw out her faith,
And widen the hearts of his apostles.
Notice, the Lord praises her for “great faith”;
Just last Sunday, he said to Peter,
“oh you of little faith,” even though Peter’s faith
was the greatest of the Twelve.
The Lord is preparing these men for their mission.
It won’t be long before they’ll have folks like this woman coming in by the droves,
wanting to become Christians.
Their hearts have to be a lot wider.
Ours too.
Who are the outsiders, the “those people,”
we might prefer don’t show up?
I think if we want this church to be packed every Sunday,
we could do a lot to make that happen,
if we’re willing to:
> Reach out to family or friends we may be at odds with;
> Step out and visit folks. We did this once,
visiting some of our fellow parishioners.
We’ll do it again soon.
> This isn’t just about inviting folks to church;
first we have to be willing to invite folks into our lives.
Share a meal; spend time; be a friend.
Let them see Christ in you first;
then they’ll be more likely to ask about
how and where you get this life from Christ.
Yes: I’m asking you to be an “evangelist”!
Here’s what I think is a fairly obvious application.
What about all the folks in our area
who are Spanish-speaking?
Are we willing to hear Spanish prayed—
even just for a few prayers and songs—in this church?
This isn’t about anything else
but going the extra mile to make folks feel welcome.
Let’s turn it around:
if you were living in Mexico, not speaking Spanish,
what—from the local parish there—
would make you feel welcome?
Jesus said, “My house shall be a house of prayer
for all peoples.”
What do we really think he wants us to do?
Not what we are comfortable doing.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Plans for New Missal
For those interested, here's what we're doing in Piqua...
Starting next month, we'll begin using the new texts for the Gloria, Sanctus and Memorial Acclamation at Mass. The Archbishop gave all parishes permission to do this as a result of the U.S. Bishops approving this option.
We will have booklets from the Archdiocese in the pews starting next month, so that folks can refer to them for these texts. We will be using the chant setting, which is the easiest and most familiar, so that folks don't have to learn too much at once.
I just ordered our new missals from Magnificat. We are ordering six to start, the bare minimum for two parishes, a chapel, a Mass kit, and one for the rectory and one for our retired priests. Why didn't I order more, you ask? Because I anticipate, in all the rush to get these things to print, some mistakes in the first edition. I'm betting that 3-6 months in, we'll have revisions. I'd rather let that shake out; so I'm buying the smaller, cheaper, "chapel" editions now; next year I'll order several "altar" editions. We will need the extras, especially for occasions such as Palm Sunday and the Easter Vigil.
I also ordered some Mass cards, which we'll use for the nursing homes, and we'll have other uses for them I anticipate.
Sometime in September or October, we'll have some sessions with all those who take a special role at Mass, to give them some information and encouragement. Although the improved translation doesn't necessarily affect them more than any others, they are folks others know are involved, so having them be up to speed will be helpful.
In October, the other priests and I will be giving a series of homilies on the Mass in general, and these changes in particular. I have to prepare the outline for all that soon, so I can provide it to the other priests.
Meanwhile, we're providing information in the bulletins, not every week, but as we can.
On Christ the King--the weekend before we begin using the new missals--we'll bless the new missals at all Masses.
The following weekend, of course, is when we begin using it in full. To make it easier on the priests and the people, some of the options we could use, we will introduce gradually. For example, we will stick to the Roman Canon for awhile at Sunday Mass, waiting perhaps until after Christmas to begin using the 3rd Eucharistic prayer.
One of the priests who assists me--the former pastor, now retired--thinks this will be a lot easier than folks expect. The people's parts don't change that much and he thinks most of what the priest does differently won't cause any stir. We'll have a few things that need to be explained, such as "for you and for many."
What do you think?
Starting next month, we'll begin using the new texts for the Gloria, Sanctus and Memorial Acclamation at Mass. The Archbishop gave all parishes permission to do this as a result of the U.S. Bishops approving this option.
We will have booklets from the Archdiocese in the pews starting next month, so that folks can refer to them for these texts. We will be using the chant setting, which is the easiest and most familiar, so that folks don't have to learn too much at once.
I just ordered our new missals from Magnificat. We are ordering six to start, the bare minimum for two parishes, a chapel, a Mass kit, and one for the rectory and one for our retired priests. Why didn't I order more, you ask? Because I anticipate, in all the rush to get these things to print, some mistakes in the first edition. I'm betting that 3-6 months in, we'll have revisions. I'd rather let that shake out; so I'm buying the smaller, cheaper, "chapel" editions now; next year I'll order several "altar" editions. We will need the extras, especially for occasions such as Palm Sunday and the Easter Vigil.
I also ordered some Mass cards, which we'll use for the nursing homes, and we'll have other uses for them I anticipate.
Sometime in September or October, we'll have some sessions with all those who take a special role at Mass, to give them some information and encouragement. Although the improved translation doesn't necessarily affect them more than any others, they are folks others know are involved, so having them be up to speed will be helpful.
In October, the other priests and I will be giving a series of homilies on the Mass in general, and these changes in particular. I have to prepare the outline for all that soon, so I can provide it to the other priests.
Meanwhile, we're providing information in the bulletins, not every week, but as we can.
On Christ the King--the weekend before we begin using the new missals--we'll bless the new missals at all Masses.
The following weekend, of course, is when we begin using it in full. To make it easier on the priests and the people, some of the options we could use, we will introduce gradually. For example, we will stick to the Roman Canon for awhile at Sunday Mass, waiting perhaps until after Christmas to begin using the 3rd Eucharistic prayer.
One of the priests who assists me--the former pastor, now retired--thinks this will be a lot easier than folks expect. The people's parts don't change that much and he thinks most of what the priest does differently won't cause any stir. We'll have a few things that need to be explained, such as "for you and for many."
What do you think?
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
What Catholics believe about 'same sex marriage'
(This is an upcoming bulletin insert I've prepared for my parishes. An earlier version appeared here; I thought I'd show you what I finally came up with.)
Recently, the legislature and governor of New York changed the definition of marriage, to apply to people of the same sex. In recent years, this has been at issue in several states, and in many state courts—and it may come before the U.S. Supreme Court.
The Catholic Church opposes this redefinition of marriage. As a result, we’ve been criticized as against “progress” and even called bigots. Because this is so often cast as a question of “rights,” we may wonder why the Church teaches what she does.
Let me briefly explain what the Church teaches and why it matters.
First, a surprise: our stance is not based on religion; marriage existed before anyone wrote the first words of the Bible. Marriage arises from human nature itself. Human beings are designed to come together and make a family. This is part of being human and obviously necessary. Marriage is important to the well being of us all.
What’s the harm?
Still, many will say, “So what? Why not just change the law to accommodate the wishes of those who don’t fit this mold? What’s the harm in that?”
Here are four areas of concern:
1. This is a power-grab by government. This is a fundamental change in the whole of society being imposed by the government. To a great degree, we all must go along with it. We teach our children to respect the laws. Laws express the common values of society.
The Archbishop of New York asked a question we can all ask: Who gave the government the right to do this? Redefining marriage means redefining family and ultimately what it means to be human. This is social engineering.
2. This strikes at the peace and cohesion of society. A society isn’t just a collection of individuals, but a community with shared values. People often say, “we shouldn’t impose our values.” But there’s no avoiding it; this is what laws do—they reflect shared values and “impose” expectations on all of us.
What’s happening is new values are being imposed on all of us already. Consider…
> In 2004, the supreme court of Massachusetts redefined marriage to include same-sex unions; a 2005 law changed how “family” was viewed by the state. The Catholic Church, long involved in adoptions, was told that if it deemed only a man and a woman as “family,” that would be illegal “discrimination.” The Church stopped referring for adoptions, rather than comply. Something similar has happened in Washington, D.C.
> In California, the state now mandates public schools teach “gay history” beginning in kindergarten. Where is this leading? What will this mean in practice? Will this affect textbooks or other programs made available to Catholic schools?
> In Canada, we might see a glimpse of our future. A Protestant pastor was charged with a “hate crime” in 2002 when he wrote a letter to the editor saying homosexual acts are sinful. After a lengthy court process, and much expense, he was finally cleared. This was not an isolated incident; it happened to the Catholic bishop of the Diocese of Calgary.
3. Marriage and family are not merely private matters—society rests on this foundation as surely as our homes rest on their foundations. Can anyone seriously argue it has been good for our society in recent years to have marriage become fragile, to have children grow up in broken homes, or grow up without both parents married at all?
4. This is reckless tampering. In recent years, we are better appreciating the importance of treating our ecology with respect. It is complex system which we don’t fully understand; but we are realizing better that polluting water and air, and not respecting the climate, wetlands, and endangered species can ultimately threaten our future.
And yet, politicians are re-engineering marriage and family. As Catholic writer Mark Shea observes, “what can it hurt?” will eventually be followed by, “how were we supposed to know?”
This raises a much broader question:
What does our Faith say about same-sex attraction?
We don’t fully know why some people (1-5% from various studies) experience this attraction. For some, it is a phase, for others it’s deep-seated. Some feel an exclusive attraction, but others don’t. Some try to change and do, but not all. Coming to grips with this at a young age can be very difficult. Some never share this, others are open about it.
Sadly, teasing, cruelty and rejection take a terrible toll. Some young people go through awful trials, and make rash decisions with life-long or even fatal consequences. A lot of folks have serious soul-searching to do about attitudes and behavior toward gay people.
The truth is, our family and friends who wrestle with these feelings ask the same questions we all ask: who am I? Why did God make me? How do I fit in his plan?
The answers—for everyone—are: We are made in God’s image. God made us to know, love and serve him in this life, to be happy with him in the next. We spend our lives discovering our particular vocation, but we are all part of his plan.
Did God make me this way?
Many say this same-sex attraction comes from God. But can we really say that?
People have all kinds of sexual feelings or desires. Will we say every one of them is likewise “God given”—simply because people experience them? Throughout history, faithfulness in marriage has always been a challenge; and people have seriously claimed that they can’t help being unfaithful. Is being unfaithful also “God-given”?
Whether we look at what nature tells us about human sexuality, or what Scripture and Christian tradition say, the answer is the same: that human sexuality is meant for a permanent union of a man and woman, with procreation an inseparable part of this union.
This is why our Faith has always taught that sex before and outside of marriage (including by oneself and porn), and marital acts involving contraception or sterilization, or which deliberately exclude procreation, are all gravely sinful.
Do I matter to God?
Maybe what we’re trying to say is something different: that whoever we are, God loves us. We have worth and dignity. That is true!
Nothing in our Faith allows us to demean or devalue anyone, for any reason. If we’ve ever treated anyone that way, that is a sin on our part. When we present our beliefs about the meaning of human sexuality and the call to chastity, this isn’t to be “anti” anyone.
As Christians, we believe two things that apply here: that human beings are broken and wounded, because of Original Sin; and that Christ, who died to save us, gives us grace to become new people. Having same-sex feelings is just one form of brokenness.
Facing our own brokenness, and bringing it to Christ, are essential to our salvation. Many people can say, “why did this happen to me?” Many people face life long struggles and shame. Christ accepts us where he finds us, but loves us too much to leave us there.
The virtue of chastity
Jesus said, “Take up your cross.” Why did he say it? Maybe because he knew there’s no other way to become truly human.
Our culture ridicules chastity. A lot of heterosexual folks, even Christians, do not embrace chastity themselves; so it seems unfair to ask it of those with same-sex desires.
So, a reminder: Christ calls everyone to chastity, not just some.
Married people are called to be chaste in their relations with each other and with others. This, along with the dying to self that comes in marriage and family, is costly.
Some heterosexuals find they can’t make marriage work. They either attempt it and it ends badly; or they never marry. They also find chastity hard.
And our Lord specifically called some to be chaste for his Kingdom—which is what brothers, sisters and priests do.
We might recall the words of G.K. Chesterton: “The Christian ideal hasn’t been tried and found wanting; it’s been found difficult and not tried.” No one can seriously claim our culture is too “pushy” about chastity and self-control. Just the opposite: what we experience from all sides is the celebration of not just lust, but greed, gluttony, materialism and anger.
Is this set of values working for our society? For families? For children?
We need the virtue of chastity so we can truly possess ourselves; in order to truly give ourselves fully to others. A society that scorns self-denial cannot say “no” and sacrifice for the future—which is at the heart of both our nation’s fiscal woes and health problems, is it not?
But chastity isn’t just about what you say “no” to; saying “no” to something that feels good, or really is good, means saying “yes” to a greater good. This is what soldiers do; what faithful spouses and parents do. It is what Jesus Christ did! It’s what each of us is called to do.
What is our Catholic answer?
To those who experience same-sex attraction, you are part of the Body of Christ. You are always welcome. Your priests will readily help with the sacraments and spiritual support. (See below for a link to Courage, a Catholic organization of those with same-sex attraction living their faith.) Every Catholic should be equally ready to provide true friendship and support. I’m here to help: call me to speak confidentially if you wish.
It has never been easy to answer Jesus’ call. In every age, some part of his message has always been rejected because it was too challenging.
When the prophet Habbakuk asked God why society was not listening to God’s words, the Lord said, “Write down the vision…the vision still has its time…wait for it.”
—Father Martin Fox, Pastor, St. Mary & St. Boniface Parishes, August 2011
References:
“Bishop Henry calls for overhaul of human rights commissions,” Catholic Civil Rights League, accessed July 28, 2011, online at: http://www.ccrl.ca/index.php?id=4917; “Bishop Fred Henry's letter to the Premier of Alberta,” Catholic Education Resource Center, 2008, accessed online at: http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/persecution/pch0185.htm
“California to Require Gay History in Schools,” New York Times, July 15, 2011, accessed online at: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/15/us/15gay.html
Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraphs 1602-1605; accessed online at: http://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0015/__P51.HTM; paragraphs 2337-59, accessed online at: http://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0015/__P85.HTM
“Catholic Charities stuns state, ends adoptions,” Boston Globe, March 11, 2006, accessed online at:
http://www.boston.com/news/local/articles/2006/03/11/catholic_charities_stuns_state_ends_adoptions/
Courage: Catholic Apostolate for those with same-sex attraction: http://www.couragerc.net/
“Same-sex ‘marriage’ law forces D.C. Catholic Charities to close adoption program,” Catholic News Agency, February 17, 2010; accessed online at: http://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/same-sex_marriage_law_forces_d.c._catholic_charities_to_close_adoption_program/
Recently, the legislature and governor of New York changed the definition of marriage, to apply to people of the same sex. In recent years, this has been at issue in several states, and in many state courts—and it may come before the U.S. Supreme Court.
The Catholic Church opposes this redefinition of marriage. As a result, we’ve been criticized as against “progress” and even called bigots. Because this is so often cast as a question of “rights,” we may wonder why the Church teaches what she does.
Let me briefly explain what the Church teaches and why it matters.
First, a surprise: our stance is not based on religion; marriage existed before anyone wrote the first words of the Bible. Marriage arises from human nature itself. Human beings are designed to come together and make a family. This is part of being human and obviously necessary. Marriage is important to the well being of us all.
What’s the harm?
Still, many will say, “So what? Why not just change the law to accommodate the wishes of those who don’t fit this mold? What’s the harm in that?”
Here are four areas of concern:
1. This is a power-grab by government. This is a fundamental change in the whole of society being imposed by the government. To a great degree, we all must go along with it. We teach our children to respect the laws. Laws express the common values of society.
The Archbishop of New York asked a question we can all ask: Who gave the government the right to do this? Redefining marriage means redefining family and ultimately what it means to be human. This is social engineering.
2. This strikes at the peace and cohesion of society. A society isn’t just a collection of individuals, but a community with shared values. People often say, “we shouldn’t impose our values.” But there’s no avoiding it; this is what laws do—they reflect shared values and “impose” expectations on all of us.
What’s happening is new values are being imposed on all of us already. Consider…
> In 2004, the supreme court of Massachusetts redefined marriage to include same-sex unions; a 2005 law changed how “family” was viewed by the state. The Catholic Church, long involved in adoptions, was told that if it deemed only a man and a woman as “family,” that would be illegal “discrimination.” The Church stopped referring for adoptions, rather than comply. Something similar has happened in Washington, D.C.
> In California, the state now mandates public schools teach “gay history” beginning in kindergarten. Where is this leading? What will this mean in practice? Will this affect textbooks or other programs made available to Catholic schools?
> In Canada, we might see a glimpse of our future. A Protestant pastor was charged with a “hate crime” in 2002 when he wrote a letter to the editor saying homosexual acts are sinful. After a lengthy court process, and much expense, he was finally cleared. This was not an isolated incident; it happened to the Catholic bishop of the Diocese of Calgary.
3. Marriage and family are not merely private matters—society rests on this foundation as surely as our homes rest on their foundations. Can anyone seriously argue it has been good for our society in recent years to have marriage become fragile, to have children grow up in broken homes, or grow up without both parents married at all?
4. This is reckless tampering. In recent years, we are better appreciating the importance of treating our ecology with respect. It is complex system which we don’t fully understand; but we are realizing better that polluting water and air, and not respecting the climate, wetlands, and endangered species can ultimately threaten our future.
And yet, politicians are re-engineering marriage and family. As Catholic writer Mark Shea observes, “what can it hurt?” will eventually be followed by, “how were we supposed to know?”
This raises a much broader question:
What does our Faith say about same-sex attraction?
We don’t fully know why some people (1-5% from various studies) experience this attraction. For some, it is a phase, for others it’s deep-seated. Some feel an exclusive attraction, but others don’t. Some try to change and do, but not all. Coming to grips with this at a young age can be very difficult. Some never share this, others are open about it.
Sadly, teasing, cruelty and rejection take a terrible toll. Some young people go through awful trials, and make rash decisions with life-long or even fatal consequences. A lot of folks have serious soul-searching to do about attitudes and behavior toward gay people.
The truth is, our family and friends who wrestle with these feelings ask the same questions we all ask: who am I? Why did God make me? How do I fit in his plan?
The answers—for everyone—are: We are made in God’s image. God made us to know, love and serve him in this life, to be happy with him in the next. We spend our lives discovering our particular vocation, but we are all part of his plan.
Did God make me this way?
Many say this same-sex attraction comes from God. But can we really say that?
People have all kinds of sexual feelings or desires. Will we say every one of them is likewise “God given”—simply because people experience them? Throughout history, faithfulness in marriage has always been a challenge; and people have seriously claimed that they can’t help being unfaithful. Is being unfaithful also “God-given”?
Whether we look at what nature tells us about human sexuality, or what Scripture and Christian tradition say, the answer is the same: that human sexuality is meant for a permanent union of a man and woman, with procreation an inseparable part of this union.
This is why our Faith has always taught that sex before and outside of marriage (including by oneself and porn), and marital acts involving contraception or sterilization, or which deliberately exclude procreation, are all gravely sinful.
Do I matter to God?
Maybe what we’re trying to say is something different: that whoever we are, God loves us. We have worth and dignity. That is true!
Nothing in our Faith allows us to demean or devalue anyone, for any reason. If we’ve ever treated anyone that way, that is a sin on our part. When we present our beliefs about the meaning of human sexuality and the call to chastity, this isn’t to be “anti” anyone.
As Christians, we believe two things that apply here: that human beings are broken and wounded, because of Original Sin; and that Christ, who died to save us, gives us grace to become new people. Having same-sex feelings is just one form of brokenness.
Facing our own brokenness, and bringing it to Christ, are essential to our salvation. Many people can say, “why did this happen to me?” Many people face life long struggles and shame. Christ accepts us where he finds us, but loves us too much to leave us there.
The virtue of chastity
Jesus said, “Take up your cross.” Why did he say it? Maybe because he knew there’s no other way to become truly human.
Our culture ridicules chastity. A lot of heterosexual folks, even Christians, do not embrace chastity themselves; so it seems unfair to ask it of those with same-sex desires.
So, a reminder: Christ calls everyone to chastity, not just some.
Married people are called to be chaste in their relations with each other and with others. This, along with the dying to self that comes in marriage and family, is costly.
Some heterosexuals find they can’t make marriage work. They either attempt it and it ends badly; or they never marry. They also find chastity hard.
And our Lord specifically called some to be chaste for his Kingdom—which is what brothers, sisters and priests do.
We might recall the words of G.K. Chesterton: “The Christian ideal hasn’t been tried and found wanting; it’s been found difficult and not tried.” No one can seriously claim our culture is too “pushy” about chastity and self-control. Just the opposite: what we experience from all sides is the celebration of not just lust, but greed, gluttony, materialism and anger.
Is this set of values working for our society? For families? For children?
We need the virtue of chastity so we can truly possess ourselves; in order to truly give ourselves fully to others. A society that scorns self-denial cannot say “no” and sacrifice for the future—which is at the heart of both our nation’s fiscal woes and health problems, is it not?
But chastity isn’t just about what you say “no” to; saying “no” to something that feels good, or really is good, means saying “yes” to a greater good. This is what soldiers do; what faithful spouses and parents do. It is what Jesus Christ did! It’s what each of us is called to do.
What is our Catholic answer?
To those who experience same-sex attraction, you are part of the Body of Christ. You are always welcome. Your priests will readily help with the sacraments and spiritual support. (See below for a link to Courage, a Catholic organization of those with same-sex attraction living their faith.) Every Catholic should be equally ready to provide true friendship and support. I’m here to help: call me to speak confidentially if you wish.
It has never been easy to answer Jesus’ call. In every age, some part of his message has always been rejected because it was too challenging.
When the prophet Habbakuk asked God why society was not listening to God’s words, the Lord said, “Write down the vision…the vision still has its time…wait for it.”
—Father Martin Fox, Pastor, St. Mary & St. Boniface Parishes, August 2011
References:
“Bishop Henry calls for overhaul of human rights commissions,” Catholic Civil Rights League, accessed July 28, 2011, online at: http://www.ccrl.ca/index.php?id=4917; “Bishop Fred Henry's letter to the Premier of Alberta,” Catholic Education Resource Center, 2008, accessed online at: http://www.catholiceducation.org/articles/persecution/pch0185.htm
“California to Require Gay History in Schools,” New York Times, July 15, 2011, accessed online at: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/15/us/15gay.html
Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraphs 1602-1605; accessed online at: http://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0015/__P51.HTM; paragraphs 2337-59, accessed online at: http://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG0015/__P85.HTM
“Catholic Charities stuns state, ends adoptions,” Boston Globe, March 11, 2006, accessed online at:
http://www.boston.com/news/local/articles/2006/03/11/catholic_charities_stuns_state_ends_adoptions/
Courage: Catholic Apostolate for those with same-sex attraction: http://www.couragerc.net/
“Same-sex ‘marriage’ law forces D.C. Catholic Charities to close adoption program,” Catholic News Agency, February 17, 2010; accessed online at: http://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/same-sex_marriage_law_forces_d.c._catholic_charities_to_close_adoption_program/
Friday, August 05, 2011
Old homily 6 years ago...
I don't know what I'll say in my homily this weekend yet; but here's a blast from the past for your consideration and reflection....
Last Sunday, Our Lord fed thousands on the hillside.
After the miracle of filling so many with so little,
he sends the disciples—the Apostles—ahead, alone.
They’re “Apostles” because he will send them;
They’re “disciples” because they’re still learning.
They go on alone; he comes later, during a storm.
Not an accident; it was a lesson-plan.
Did you notice, it doesn’t say the storm frightened them;
These are fishermen, they understood the sea.
It was when they saw him that they were “terrified”:
“It is a ghost!”
See, they are still learning who Jesus really is:
God himself, come among us, as a true, human being.
But they’re not there, yet.
Notice the boat.
In a previous storm on the sea,
Everyone—including the Lord—was in the boat.
This time, Jesus is out of the boat;
And he wants them out of the boat, as well!
He starts with Peter.
And we see what’s special about Peter:
Because notice, Jesus doesn’t introduce
the idea of getting out of the boat; Peter does!
He has the insight, and Jesus approves:
“Come on out! The water’s fine!”
And Peter steps out, onto the water!
But, he needs training wheels!
He is frightened, and he sinks—like a Rock!
He is not there yet.
As we move through the Gospel of Matthew each Sunday,
We’re progressing with the Apostles
in the growth of their faith.
In two weeks, we’ll come back to when Jesus says,
“You are Peter—you are Rock—
and upon this Rock I will build my Church.”
But we understand that better,
when you see how Jesus is forming the Apostles,
as the foundation of his Church,
as people who stay standing in the midst of a storm.
Who, despite the storm, will cry out, “It is the Lord!”
Who could imagine walking on water?
But Jesus led them there.
Today, many people today can’t imagine
having faith that God is working through the Church.
We can all think of reasons not to believe it.
Maybe we separate God from his Church:
“God’s there, somewhere—but in the Church?
No, that’s a ghost!”
Totally understandable, given sin and scandal.
However, the Gospels are hard-core on this claim:
God came!
In and through human weakness, human failure…
God came!
In the midst of sin, suffering and injustice:
He came, and said:
“Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid!”
And the Gospels are just as hard-core on this point, too:
God came…and he didn’t leave!
God is in his Church!
Christ chose these Apostles: weak, sinful men;
Christ worked through them,
and he works through their successors,
Including our Archbishop and all bishops.
Perhaps we say, “that’s hard to believe.”
Okay.
It takes no great act of faith to believe
God acts in a Church of St. Pauls and St. Francises,
of Mother Theresas and Pope John Pauls!
That’s like stepping out of the boat…onto land!
But you and I called to walk on water:
We see bishops and priests shock and dismay us;
We see scandal and failure; we’re hurt, we’re angry:
Why believe? It’s a phantom—don’t trust it!
We believe it’s not a ghost,
It’s Jesus standing there, on the water:
God vowed to be in the midst of our storm and darkness.
Will we believe it is Jesus, and not a phantom?
Will we hear him, calling us his Church, to walk on water?
The answer to the storms and frights of our time,
Whether scandal, or lack of faith,
Or the assaults on human dignity from all sides…
Is not to huddle in the boat and ride out the storm.
It’s not to give up on Christ in his Church, saying,
“It’s just a ghost!”
No. You and I are called
to step out into the storm, on the water!
When we dress modestly, while “everyone else”
is dressed like, well, everyone else…
When you and I refuse
to treat God’s holy name as a joke…
When we refuse to treat sex as anything less than
the awesome, sacred reality it is: full of God himself;
When you and I speak for mercy, when all around us demand vengeance;
When you and I say Jesus is our true King,
while others tell us to keep God out of politics;
And, when we claim we really see Jesus our Lord—
We really see him!—
where others see only a symbol of bread and wine…
Then, you and I will face a storm!
And there will be every reason not to believe he’s there:
Every reason not to step out of the boat!
Every reason but one:
“Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid!”
Last Sunday, Our Lord fed thousands on the hillside.
After the miracle of filling so many with so little,
he sends the disciples—the Apostles—ahead, alone.
They’re “Apostles” because he will send them;
They’re “disciples” because they’re still learning.
They go on alone; he comes later, during a storm.
Not an accident; it was a lesson-plan.
Did you notice, it doesn’t say the storm frightened them;
These are fishermen, they understood the sea.
It was when they saw him that they were “terrified”:
“It is a ghost!”
See, they are still learning who Jesus really is:
God himself, come among us, as a true, human being.
But they’re not there, yet.
Notice the boat.
In a previous storm on the sea,
Everyone—including the Lord—was in the boat.
This time, Jesus is out of the boat;
And he wants them out of the boat, as well!
He starts with Peter.
And we see what’s special about Peter:
Because notice, Jesus doesn’t introduce
the idea of getting out of the boat; Peter does!
He has the insight, and Jesus approves:
“Come on out! The water’s fine!”
And Peter steps out, onto the water!
But, he needs training wheels!
He is frightened, and he sinks—like a Rock!
He is not there yet.
As we move through the Gospel of Matthew each Sunday,
We’re progressing with the Apostles
in the growth of their faith.
In two weeks, we’ll come back to when Jesus says,
“You are Peter—you are Rock—
and upon this Rock I will build my Church.”
But we understand that better,
when you see how Jesus is forming the Apostles,
as the foundation of his Church,
as people who stay standing in the midst of a storm.
Who, despite the storm, will cry out, “It is the Lord!”
Who could imagine walking on water?
But Jesus led them there.
Today, many people today can’t imagine
having faith that God is working through the Church.
We can all think of reasons not to believe it.
Maybe we separate God from his Church:
“God’s there, somewhere—but in the Church?
No, that’s a ghost!”
Totally understandable, given sin and scandal.
However, the Gospels are hard-core on this claim:
God came!
In and through human weakness, human failure…
God came!
In the midst of sin, suffering and injustice:
He came, and said:
“Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid!”
And the Gospels are just as hard-core on this point, too:
God came…and he didn’t leave!
God is in his Church!
Christ chose these Apostles: weak, sinful men;
Christ worked through them,
and he works through their successors,
Including our Archbishop and all bishops.
Perhaps we say, “that’s hard to believe.”
Okay.
It takes no great act of faith to believe
God acts in a Church of St. Pauls and St. Francises,
of Mother Theresas and Pope John Pauls!
That’s like stepping out of the boat…onto land!
But you and I called to walk on water:
We see bishops and priests shock and dismay us;
We see scandal and failure; we’re hurt, we’re angry:
Why believe? It’s a phantom—don’t trust it!
We believe it’s not a ghost,
It’s Jesus standing there, on the water:
God vowed to be in the midst of our storm and darkness.
Will we believe it is Jesus, and not a phantom?
Will we hear him, calling us his Church, to walk on water?
The answer to the storms and frights of our time,
Whether scandal, or lack of faith,
Or the assaults on human dignity from all sides…
Is not to huddle in the boat and ride out the storm.
It’s not to give up on Christ in his Church, saying,
“It’s just a ghost!”
No. You and I are called
to step out into the storm, on the water!
When we dress modestly, while “everyone else”
is dressed like, well, everyone else…
When you and I refuse
to treat God’s holy name as a joke…
When we refuse to treat sex as anything less than
the awesome, sacred reality it is: full of God himself;
When you and I speak for mercy, when all around us demand vengeance;
When you and I say Jesus is our true King,
while others tell us to keep God out of politics;
And, when we claim we really see Jesus our Lord—
We really see him!—
where others see only a symbol of bread and wine…
Then, you and I will face a storm!
And there will be every reason not to believe he’s there:
Every reason not to step out of the boat!
Every reason but one:
“Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid!”
Tuesday, August 02, 2011
A few days off...
I'm spending a few days up north, with some brother priests, with some R&R...back in the parish Friday.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
'What is the Mass "for"?' (Sunday homily)
When we talk about the Eucharist, or communion, or the Lord’s Supper,
all Christians are reading the same Scriptures, and in some way,
trying to do what Christ asked us to do.
And a lot of folks--Catholic or Protestant--ask: isn’t it pretty much the same?
With total respect to our fellow Christians who love Jesus--no, it is not the same;
even though a lot of the language and ritual can be very similar.
So, I want to explain what’s different and why.
But two quick notes: first, this isn’t criticism of anyone; just explanation.
Second, to avoid going too long, this has to be broad strokes.
We Catholics--as well as Eastern Orthodox--believe that the Mass,
offered by a priest, is a true sacrifice.
We believe what happened on the Cross on the first Good Friday,
really and truly becomes present on the altar, but in a different way.
When Martin Luther and others began the Protestant movement,
this was a key bone of contention.
They came to believe that the Mass was not--and could not be--a true sacrifice.
A remembrance? Yes.
But does the sacrifice of the Cross really become present on the altar? No.
This goes with our understanding of the priesthood.
Along with our Protestant brothers and sisters,
we believe baptism gives us a share in Christ’s priesthood.
But as Catholics, we go further. We believe in a unique, ordained priesthood.
Catholics and Orthodox believe that when a man is ordained a priest,
a true change happens in him.
He becomes conformed, in an unchangeable way, to Christ himself.
That alone is why a priest can forgive sins in the sacrament of confession--
because it is Christ in the priest who forgives.
And it is Christ in the priest who makes Calvary present on the altar.
Here again the Protestant movement took a different view,
and they see only the common priesthood of all believers.
As a result, Protestant churches almost never call their pastors “priests,” and for good reason: the essence of a priest is to offer sacrifice. If there isn’t one, there isn’t the other.
When our fellow Christians remember the Lord’s Supper, it’s very important to them;
but it means something different.
This is why when we Catholics visit another church,
we are not to take part in their communion.
Sometimes they will invite us, other times not;
but the right thing to do is respectfully to decline.
And this is why we don’t believe in sharing the Eucharist
until people choose to become Catholic.
There’s actually a rare exception, but ask me later about that.
So…what’s the upshot of all this?
Number 1, this is why coming to Mass on Sunday matters.
We can pray anywhere.
But if you want to be truly present at Calvary--that why we come to Mass.
Second, when we talk about the Real Presence of Jesus--
that the Eucharist truly is Him, His Body and Blood,
this is how that happens:
because a true priest offered the Sacrifice of his death on the Cross.
If there is no priest and no sacrifice, where do the Body and Blood come from?
That’s why so many of our fellow Christians say, it’s just a symbol.
Third is a double-reason.
While this is obviously a reason to want to become Catholic;
it also means that something very powerful happens
for those who, for various reasons, cannot come to communion.
Maybe folks will say, “I can’t come to communion, why go to Mass?” This is why.
We aren’t here, just passively observing, or waiting till we can receive communion.
Some will say, only the priest, or the reader, or others, are “doing” something. No.
Everyone here is called to “do” something as part of the Mass:
to join our hearts and wills together with the ordained priest, and with Jesus our High Priest.
Remember, this Mass is the same sacrifice as Jesus on the Cross.
If we wonder what Mass is for, ask what the Cross was for:
He did it to open heaven and to rescue us from hell.
To save us and to save the world.
That’s what every Mass is “for.”
Our nation is in a financial crisis--and we all wonder how it will work out.
Our world is in a spiritual crisis.
The fate of governments and the economy, the end of wars and famine,
are ultimately about whether we will accept Christ as our king.
And if you want to pray for our nation, for family, for the world--
there is no more powerful prayer than Jesus giving his all on the Cross!
We just heard Paul say that nothing can conquer the love of Christ--it will triumph.
But the “love of Christ” isn’t just his warm feelings for us: it’s his death on the Cross.
It’s the Mass!
In the first reading, God promised to renew his “everlasting covenant” with us.
In the Eucharistic prayer we pray at every Mass, we hear Jesus say,
“this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant…
shed so that sins may be forgiven.”
In a moment, I’ll go to that altar and I will offer this Sacrifice.
Know that I am completely unworthy of it.
It truly frightens me because I am a sinner.
That’s how awesome this is. Pray for me, please. Join with me.
all Christians are reading the same Scriptures, and in some way,
trying to do what Christ asked us to do.
And a lot of folks--Catholic or Protestant--ask: isn’t it pretty much the same?
With total respect to our fellow Christians who love Jesus--no, it is not the same;
even though a lot of the language and ritual can be very similar.
So, I want to explain what’s different and why.
But two quick notes: first, this isn’t criticism of anyone; just explanation.
Second, to avoid going too long, this has to be broad strokes.
We Catholics--as well as Eastern Orthodox--believe that the Mass,
offered by a priest, is a true sacrifice.
We believe what happened on the Cross on the first Good Friday,
really and truly becomes present on the altar, but in a different way.
When Martin Luther and others began the Protestant movement,
this was a key bone of contention.
They came to believe that the Mass was not--and could not be--a true sacrifice.
A remembrance? Yes.
But does the sacrifice of the Cross really become present on the altar? No.
This goes with our understanding of the priesthood.
Along with our Protestant brothers and sisters,
we believe baptism gives us a share in Christ’s priesthood.
But as Catholics, we go further. We believe in a unique, ordained priesthood.
Catholics and Orthodox believe that when a man is ordained a priest,
a true change happens in him.
He becomes conformed, in an unchangeable way, to Christ himself.
That alone is why a priest can forgive sins in the sacrament of confession--
because it is Christ in the priest who forgives.
And it is Christ in the priest who makes Calvary present on the altar.
Here again the Protestant movement took a different view,
and they see only the common priesthood of all believers.
As a result, Protestant churches almost never call their pastors “priests,” and for good reason: the essence of a priest is to offer sacrifice. If there isn’t one, there isn’t the other.
When our fellow Christians remember the Lord’s Supper, it’s very important to them;
but it means something different.
This is why when we Catholics visit another church,
we are not to take part in their communion.
Sometimes they will invite us, other times not;
but the right thing to do is respectfully to decline.
And this is why we don’t believe in sharing the Eucharist
until people choose to become Catholic.
There’s actually a rare exception, but ask me later about that.
So…what’s the upshot of all this?
Number 1, this is why coming to Mass on Sunday matters.
We can pray anywhere.
But if you want to be truly present at Calvary--that why we come to Mass.
Second, when we talk about the Real Presence of Jesus--
that the Eucharist truly is Him, His Body and Blood,
this is how that happens:
because a true priest offered the Sacrifice of his death on the Cross.
If there is no priest and no sacrifice, where do the Body and Blood come from?
That’s why so many of our fellow Christians say, it’s just a symbol.
Third is a double-reason.
While this is obviously a reason to want to become Catholic;
it also means that something very powerful happens
for those who, for various reasons, cannot come to communion.
Maybe folks will say, “I can’t come to communion, why go to Mass?” This is why.
We aren’t here, just passively observing, or waiting till we can receive communion.
Some will say, only the priest, or the reader, or others, are “doing” something. No.
Everyone here is called to “do” something as part of the Mass:
to join our hearts and wills together with the ordained priest, and with Jesus our High Priest.
Remember, this Mass is the same sacrifice as Jesus on the Cross.
If we wonder what Mass is for, ask what the Cross was for:
He did it to open heaven and to rescue us from hell.
To save us and to save the world.
That’s what every Mass is “for.”
Our nation is in a financial crisis--and we all wonder how it will work out.
Our world is in a spiritual crisis.
The fate of governments and the economy, the end of wars and famine,
are ultimately about whether we will accept Christ as our king.
And if you want to pray for our nation, for family, for the world--
there is no more powerful prayer than Jesus giving his all on the Cross!
We just heard Paul say that nothing can conquer the love of Christ--it will triumph.
But the “love of Christ” isn’t just his warm feelings for us: it’s his death on the Cross.
It’s the Mass!
In the first reading, God promised to renew his “everlasting covenant” with us.
In the Eucharistic prayer we pray at every Mass, we hear Jesus say,
“this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant…
shed so that sins may be forgiven.”
In a moment, I’ll go to that altar and I will offer this Sacrifice.
Know that I am completely unworthy of it.
It truly frightens me because I am a sinner.
That’s how awesome this is. Pray for me, please. Join with me.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Caring for Eastern Christians
Here's an unusual item on my to-do list, which I've been working on, on and off, for several weeks.
Several weeks ago, I had a family approach me about becoming Catholic. They are Greek Orthodox.
Inside my head, a little bell goes off. "This requires special care."
Here's what I mean--because this delves into some less well known aspects of the Church.
If a member of an Orthodox Church seeks "to be Catholic," this is very different from a Protestant, or a non-Christian, doing so. Why? Because the Orthodox already have the right faith, but there are some differences that have to be dealt with.
The Roman feeling is that these differences are relatively narrow; sometimes, among the Orthodox, the feeling is they are major. Being Roman, I approach this situation from the Roman perspective.
So first, I have to think about what topics have to involve some instruction. Not nearly as many as others approaching me to enter the Church.
Another little-known fact. If an Orthodox believer wishes to enter into full communion with the pope, he or she does not become Roman Catholic; he or she becomes a member of the Byzantine Catholic Church, which is a distinct "rite" or branch of the Church, in communion with Rome.
Why is this? Because the various Eastern branches of the Church are not eager to be absorbed into the Roman Church--but to maintain their distinct spirituality and traditions. Same Faith; different form and expression. So strict is this rule, that only the Holy Father can make an exception.
So...these folks approaching me would not become Roman Catholics, but Byzantine Catholics--only they didn't know that. I had to explain what that meant. That means I had to do some homework.
Before I explore that, you might wonder, well, why did they come to you?
Because there is no Greek Orthodox Church nearby; nor is there a Greek Catholic parish nearby. So they came to the Catholic church.
So my concern--which I expressed to them--was that in attending Mass at a Roman church, and sending their children to a Roman school, their Eastern traditions would be lost. Also, even if they attend Mass here, which they can, they will nonetheless be members of the Byzantine Catholic Church. If their son seeks ordination, it needs to be in that church; when their children seek marriage, they can only be married in the Latin rite if they marry a Latin Catholic.
So what else does this mean for this family?
1) Eastern spirituality is different; it's important for them to retain that and connect with it.
2) The way Eastern Churches understand some doctrines is slightly different--not in substance but in formulation. For example, the Holy Spirit's "procession" from the Father, "and/through" the Son.
3) The disciplines of the East are different. Eastern Christians fast more, but it is not under "pain of sin."
Anyway, you might think it would be easy to find things for them to read and study. Not so much. Most of what I could find is written for theologians, not regular folks.
Also, along the way I sought advice from the pastor of the nearest Byzantine Catholic parish, insofar as they will become his parishioners if I receive them into the Church, even though they'll routinely attend Mass here.
Well, I finally put together a plan, and I called the mother today, and we will be getting together soon. I won't claim I did the best job on this so far; I have done what I can, amidst other responsibilities.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
'Are we worldly?' (Sunday homily)
These are my notes--they are incomplete. I added in some different illustrations, and I didn't make my points as bluntly as these suggest--because I simply didn't have time to write down everything I wanted to say.
Perhaps if a reader heard me give this homily this weekend, you might offer, in addition to commentary, some mention of any points I made not reflected in these notes--either that you liked, or didn't like, or perhaps didn't understand.
Let’s look at what Saint Paul is saying in the second reading.
Last week, he said that some are “debtors to the flesh” while others “live in the Spirit”: meaning that either we are governed by the Holy Spirit—and Christ-centered—or else we’re rooted in a worldly way of thinking and living.
Are we worldly? Are a lot of Christians today worldly?
I think we know the answer.
Christ our King gives us an audience each Sunday—with lots of times, and that is just Piqua—and how many don’t show up? Not for good reasons—but for the sake of sports or shopping. Is that worldly?
The practice of confession has fallen by the wayside in recent years. Is it really true that people have become a lot more virtuous in the past few decades?
Marriages—when they happen—don’t last. It’s no secret what one of the main uses for the Internet is—and not just other people; us.
Have you ever noticed that at any given time, on TV, you can watch someone prepare food, talk about food, or stuff their faces with vast quantities of food.
Worldly? Living “in the flesh?”
What about our priests. Am I worldly? Yes I am. Pray for your priests and your bishops. We don’t have any special protection from temptation.
(I recall somewhere acknowledging I don't go to confession as often as I should, or pray as well as I should; and my excuse isn't any different from anyone else's: I'm busy. And it's not really a good excuse. I asked everyone to pray for me, and I said I'd get to confession, how about everyone else make the same commitment with me?)
“Worldly” is a good description, I think, of the state of many Christians, and many Catholics.
Paul tells us this week that Creation “groans”—as it awaits full redemption. That redemption comes from Christ—but it comes through the sons and daughters of God.
In other words, from us.
When our lives fully show Christ the world will see something worth seeing.
And there’s no secret about how that happens; and there’s nothing easy about it. It’s living in the Holy Spirit.
That’s what makes our lives fruitful ground for God’s life in us.
OK, what are practical steps?
1. Go to confession. Regularly. If you don’t think you need it, you may find that going a few times you’ll see it differently.
2. Sunday Mass—you’re here, you understand that.
3. Learn your faith. Even 20 years ago, folks could legitimately say, they didn’t know where to go for reading material, or else their busy lives meant they couldn’t come to church for classes or talks or whatever. But with the Internet, a few clicks and you can find good, solid stuff to learn all about your faith. If you don’t know where to start, EWTN has an excellent site. You will find links to keep you busy, and lots of variety. Just 1 hour a week would be a lot.
4. Pray—even a few minutes at the beginning and the end. I don’t say this lightly. This is where I fall down; I’m busy and it’s so easy to say, “God is happy I’m working so hard.” There is no substitute for prayer.
All the ground gets seed and rain, but it doesn’t all produce the same fruit. God pays us the compliment of respecting our freedom.
We can’t do it without the Holy Spirit; but He won’t do it without our willingness.
Here’s a dangerous prayer. It’s risky. Are you ready?
Holy Spirit, I will do whatever you ask. I will go wherever you send me. I will change whatever needs to change in my life. I want to give up whatever doesn’t belong. I want to make Christ my priority. I am willing to do it if you help me do it.
Perhaps if a reader heard me give this homily this weekend, you might offer, in addition to commentary, some mention of any points I made not reflected in these notes--either that you liked, or didn't like, or perhaps didn't understand.
Let’s look at what Saint Paul is saying in the second reading.
Last week, he said that some are “debtors to the flesh” while others “live in the Spirit”: meaning that either we are governed by the Holy Spirit—and Christ-centered—or else we’re rooted in a worldly way of thinking and living.
Are we worldly? Are a lot of Christians today worldly?
I think we know the answer.
Christ our King gives us an audience each Sunday—with lots of times, and that is just Piqua—and how many don’t show up? Not for good reasons—but for the sake of sports or shopping. Is that worldly?
The practice of confession has fallen by the wayside in recent years. Is it really true that people have become a lot more virtuous in the past few decades?
Marriages—when they happen—don’t last. It’s no secret what one of the main uses for the Internet is—and not just other people; us.
Have you ever noticed that at any given time, on TV, you can watch someone prepare food, talk about food, or stuff their faces with vast quantities of food.
Worldly? Living “in the flesh?”
What about our priests. Am I worldly? Yes I am. Pray for your priests and your bishops. We don’t have any special protection from temptation.
(I recall somewhere acknowledging I don't go to confession as often as I should, or pray as well as I should; and my excuse isn't any different from anyone else's: I'm busy. And it's not really a good excuse. I asked everyone to pray for me, and I said I'd get to confession, how about everyone else make the same commitment with me?)
“Worldly” is a good description, I think, of the state of many Christians, and many Catholics.
Paul tells us this week that Creation “groans”—as it awaits full redemption. That redemption comes from Christ—but it comes through the sons and daughters of God.
In other words, from us.
When our lives fully show Christ the world will see something worth seeing.
And there’s no secret about how that happens; and there’s nothing easy about it. It’s living in the Holy Spirit.
That’s what makes our lives fruitful ground for God’s life in us.
OK, what are practical steps?
1. Go to confession. Regularly. If you don’t think you need it, you may find that going a few times you’ll see it differently.
2. Sunday Mass—you’re here, you understand that.
3. Learn your faith. Even 20 years ago, folks could legitimately say, they didn’t know where to go for reading material, or else their busy lives meant they couldn’t come to church for classes or talks or whatever. But with the Internet, a few clicks and you can find good, solid stuff to learn all about your faith. If you don’t know where to start, EWTN has an excellent site. You will find links to keep you busy, and lots of variety. Just 1 hour a week would be a lot.
4. Pray—even a few minutes at the beginning and the end. I don’t say this lightly. This is where I fall down; I’m busy and it’s so easy to say, “God is happy I’m working so hard.” There is no substitute for prayer.
All the ground gets seed and rain, but it doesn’t all produce the same fruit. God pays us the compliment of respecting our freedom.
We can’t do it without the Holy Spirit; but He won’t do it without our willingness.
Here’s a dangerous prayer. It’s risky. Are you ready?
Holy Spirit, I will do whatever you ask. I will go wherever you send me. I will change whatever needs to change in my life. I want to give up whatever doesn’t belong. I want to make Christ my priority. I am willing to do it if you help me do it.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
In search of thinner altar bread
One of my projects today was searching the Internet for thinner altar breads.
I am finding that many of the older folks to whom I bring the Eucharist, as well as some at Mass, find it difficult to swallow the hosts we normally use. One solution is to break the host; but I know there are altar breads that are made thinner, and seem to dissolve more quickly.
I found two sites online and sent off email inquiries.
Any suggestions?
I am finding that many of the older folks to whom I bring the Eucharist, as well as some at Mass, find it difficult to swallow the hosts we normally use. One solution is to break the host; but I know there are altar breads that are made thinner, and seem to dissolve more quickly.
I found two sites online and sent off email inquiries.
Any suggestions?
Archdiocese's Mass handbook
I have a sample of the booklet the Archdiocese of Cincinnati is printing up to make available to parishes this fall, in anticipation of the improved translation of the Mass prayers which will take effect later this fall.
It is very good.
The booklet is 32 pages, handy size, which will easily fit in pew bookracks.
It begins right away with the Order of Mass, so anyone and everyone can easily follow along from the Sign of the Cross. The prayers are notated for singing in what I believe will be the chant notation that appears in the Missal itself; encouraging priests and the faithful to sing the Mass.
The Kyrie, Sanctus, Pater Noster and Agnus Dei are all provided both in English and in Latin, again, set to a simple chant setting. The Gloria is also set to simple chant setting--as is the Credo! This is the first time I've ever seen a chant for the Creed in English.
All this should serve, let us hope, to clarify that singing the Mass, and using Latin prayers as part of Mass, are not a special agenda of particular priests or music directors, but really are what the Church is calling us to do. When you have a publication of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati taking this approach, I think you can say this is now mainstream.
It's all laid out very well, and there are even notes reminding us to strike our breast at the Confiteor and to bow at the words, "and became man" in the Creed.
Then the second half has four other settings for the Mass. I am not the best one to evaluate these, but they all seem pretty straightforward; one, the Community Mass by Richard Proulx is already familiar; I think it's a pretty good setting. Of course, everyone will have different opinions about such things, but none of these strike me as weird or extravagant settings that distort the prayers.
The book is $1, which is a reasonable price. My music director tells me he has folks ready to donate to cover the cost. I've ordered enough for both parishes plus our chapel. I really hope all the parishes of the archdiocese use them, as they will provide a very good base-line for the common celebration of the sacred liturgy in the Archdiocese.
It is very good.
The booklet is 32 pages, handy size, which will easily fit in pew bookracks.
It begins right away with the Order of Mass, so anyone and everyone can easily follow along from the Sign of the Cross. The prayers are notated for singing in what I believe will be the chant notation that appears in the Missal itself; encouraging priests and the faithful to sing the Mass.
The Kyrie, Sanctus, Pater Noster and Agnus Dei are all provided both in English and in Latin, again, set to a simple chant setting. The Gloria is also set to simple chant setting--as is the Credo! This is the first time I've ever seen a chant for the Creed in English.
All this should serve, let us hope, to clarify that singing the Mass, and using Latin prayers as part of Mass, are not a special agenda of particular priests or music directors, but really are what the Church is calling us to do. When you have a publication of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati taking this approach, I think you can say this is now mainstream.
It's all laid out very well, and there are even notes reminding us to strike our breast at the Confiteor and to bow at the words, "and became man" in the Creed.
Then the second half has four other settings for the Mass. I am not the best one to evaluate these, but they all seem pretty straightforward; one, the Community Mass by Richard Proulx is already familiar; I think it's a pretty good setting. Of course, everyone will have different opinions about such things, but none of these strike me as weird or extravagant settings that distort the prayers.
The book is $1, which is a reasonable price. My music director tells me he has folks ready to donate to cover the cost. I've ordered enough for both parishes plus our chapel. I really hope all the parishes of the archdiocese use them, as they will provide a very good base-line for the common celebration of the sacred liturgy in the Archdiocese.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
New Missal update
I've been working on identifying and ordering resources for the new translation of the Missal, coming later this year.
A later entry into this is Magnificat, which publishes high quality, monthly prayer books that serve both as a daily missal as well as a source of devotional prayer. Magnificat is going to publish a Missal for the priest to use at the altar, and I've checked it out; it not only looks good, but the smaller, "chapel" edition has the best price.
Too bad for them, the discount is good until the end of October, so I'm not rushing to place my order. The bishops conference has also extended it's "early order" discount until August 31. That suggests they aren't getting as many orders as they supposed? I dunno.
Here's my plan; let me know what you think.
I'm going to order a minimum number of the smaller editions; then wait about a year to order additional, larger ones. The larger ones are better on the altar, because I can see the print better! And they should be a little more durable. The smaller ones are more portable, and they are also nicer for younger servers. In the end, I'll end up with about 9 or 10 missals, which sounds like a lot--except I need at least two for each parish church, one for the chapel, one for the sisters' chapel, one for the Mass kit, one for the office, and a couple for the priests to use at home. It's not good to have the missal go missing at an inopportune time!
So why am I holding off buying the bigger, more expensive ones? Couldn't I save money now?
Yes, maybe. However, I have a suspicion that the first editions of these missals will have to be corrected. The publishers are rushing these to print. Once they get past this November, and most of the missals needed around the country have been printed and shipped, and millions of customers get a good look, we're going to find mistakes. Then they'll fix them. Or else the bishops will get feedback that suggests some substantive revisions are in order, and they'll make that happen.
So I'll hold off and let that shake out.
Meanwhile, I've also ordered some booklets from the Archdiocese, which will have both the texts of the people's responses, as well as music settings we'll be using. They cost $1 apiece, not too bad, and my music director--who was on the committee working on it--says it will be a good resource. However, the early-bird discount expires tomorrow, so I had to act.
Finally, at this point I'm also planning on some pew cards, which actually won't make it to the pews; but will be usable at nursing homes and some other settings. They range in price from 20-70 cents, with some being big print, which may be a good idea. No early-bird discount thus far, so I'm waiting.
Meanwhile, I think I'll hold off on bringing missalettes--er, those booklets for which one company has trademarked that name--back into St. Boniface Parish, to minimize the clutter in the pews. Many would like missalettes; I can go either way; but they are an additional expense.
And I'm thinking about new hymnals, because the existing hymnals are now filled with Mass music that's unusable. St. Boniface hymnals, while still in reasonable shape, have given many years' service. St. Mary's are more recently purchased--we may be able to get "supplements" from the publisher; or else we can just punt again, which is probably what I'll do. I hear rumors of a revision in the lectionary again.
A later entry into this is Magnificat, which publishes high quality, monthly prayer books that serve both as a daily missal as well as a source of devotional prayer. Magnificat is going to publish a Missal for the priest to use at the altar, and I've checked it out; it not only looks good, but the smaller, "chapel" edition has the best price.
Too bad for them, the discount is good until the end of October, so I'm not rushing to place my order. The bishops conference has also extended it's "early order" discount until August 31. That suggests they aren't getting as many orders as they supposed? I dunno.
Here's my plan; let me know what you think.
I'm going to order a minimum number of the smaller editions; then wait about a year to order additional, larger ones. The larger ones are better on the altar, because I can see the print better! And they should be a little more durable. The smaller ones are more portable, and they are also nicer for younger servers. In the end, I'll end up with about 9 or 10 missals, which sounds like a lot--except I need at least two for each parish church, one for the chapel, one for the sisters' chapel, one for the Mass kit, one for the office, and a couple for the priests to use at home. It's not good to have the missal go missing at an inopportune time!
So why am I holding off buying the bigger, more expensive ones? Couldn't I save money now?
Yes, maybe. However, I have a suspicion that the first editions of these missals will have to be corrected. The publishers are rushing these to print. Once they get past this November, and most of the missals needed around the country have been printed and shipped, and millions of customers get a good look, we're going to find mistakes. Then they'll fix them. Or else the bishops will get feedback that suggests some substantive revisions are in order, and they'll make that happen.
So I'll hold off and let that shake out.
Meanwhile, I've also ordered some booklets from the Archdiocese, which will have both the texts of the people's responses, as well as music settings we'll be using. They cost $1 apiece, not too bad, and my music director--who was on the committee working on it--says it will be a good resource. However, the early-bird discount expires tomorrow, so I had to act.
Finally, at this point I'm also planning on some pew cards, which actually won't make it to the pews; but will be usable at nursing homes and some other settings. They range in price from 20-70 cents, with some being big print, which may be a good idea. No early-bird discount thus far, so I'm waiting.
Meanwhile, I think I'll hold off on bringing missalettes--er, those booklets for which one company has trademarked that name--back into St. Boniface Parish, to minimize the clutter in the pews. Many would like missalettes; I can go either way; but they are an additional expense.
And I'm thinking about new hymnals, because the existing hymnals are now filled with Mass music that's unusable. St. Boniface hymnals, while still in reasonable shape, have given many years' service. St. Mary's are more recently purchased--we may be able to get "supplements" from the publisher; or else we can just punt again, which is probably what I'll do. I hear rumors of a revision in the lectionary again.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
What we Catholics believe about 'same-sex marriage'
(I wrote this as a handout for members of my parishes. Please let me know if you think it states Catholic teaching appropriately, is appropriate for all ages, is clear, etc.)
The legislature and governor of New York recently acted together to change the definition of marriage, to apply to people of the same sex.
The Catholic Church opposes this redefinition of marriage. As a result, we’ve been criticized as against “progress” and even called bigots. This is so often cast as a question of “rights,” we may wrestle with this, or else feel awkward defending our position.
Let me briefly explain what the Church teaches and why it is important.
This may surprise you, but our stance isn’t based on religion; marriage existed before anyone wrote the first words of the Bible. Marriage arises from human nature itself. Human beings are designed to come together and make a family. This is part of being human and obviously necessary. Marriage is important to the well being of us all .
Still, many will say, “So what? Why not just change the law to accommodate the wishes of those who don’t fit this mold? What’s the harm in that?”
There are several harms, some immediate, some long-term.
First, this is a power-grab by government. The state is imposing a very fundamental change on the whole of society. To some degree, we all must go along with this. What marriage means for our society is changed by this. And we should all ask, Who gave the government the right to do this? Redefining marriage, redefining family, ultimately means redefining what it means to be human. This is social engineering.
Second, society lives in harmony because of shared values. Some say, “we shouldn’t impose our values.” But we can’t avoid it; this is what law does—it reflects shared values that shape how we all live together. So this represents an imposition of new values—which may, or may not, work out so well. It is already spawning conflict.
Third, this affects everyone. Marriage and family are so fundamental, that when we deconstruct the very meaning of such things, it pulls out the foundation stones of our common society.
Parents understand this. When you try to maintain certain values in your home, what your children experience in the other houses on the street affects you; how can it not?
Finally, this is reckless tampering. In recent years, we appreciate better the importance of treating our natural environment with respect. It is complex system which we don’t fully understand; but we do know that we depend on it in order to flourish.
So, with our natural environment, we’ve been chastened to be more humble—because we realize how not respecting it ultimately threatens our own well being. And yet, politicians are re-engineering marriage and family. As Catholic writer Mark Shea often says, the “what can it hurt?” phase will eventually be followed by, “how were we supposed to know?”
We might ask more broadly: What does our faith say about same-sex attraction?
Why some people—2-5% it seems from most reports—experience this attraction, no can fully explain. For some, it is a phase, for others it’s deep-seated. Coming to grips with this at a young age can be very difficult. Some never share this, others are open about it.
Sadly, teasing, cruelty and rejection take a terrible toll. Some young people go through awful trials, and make rash decisions with life-long or even fatal consequences. A lot of folks have serious soul-searching to do about attitudes and behavior toward gay people.
The truth is, that our family and friends who wrestle with these feelings ask the same questions everyone asks: who am I? Why did God make me? How do I fit in his plan?
The answers—for everyone—are: We are made in God’s image. God made us to know, love and serve him in this life, to be happy with him in the next. We spend our lives discovering our particular vocation, but we are all part of his plan.
Many say, this same-sex attraction comes from God; it’s how God made us.
On the basis of what? Certainly Scripture doesn’t support this. But set aside Scripture; human evolution doesn’t support this either. People will often say things like, God made me this way, in order to affirm their sense of worth, to combat shame originating from others or themselves.
But every human being learns that one way or the other, our human nature is wounded. No one can claim to be a flawless image of God. This is a result of Original Sin.
So, when we say same-sex attraction is “broken,” or disordered, not according to the norm God created, this is what we also say of those who eat too much, who can’t stay faithful in marriage, who are filled with rage, and so forth. We’re all broken.
But: the wounds in our human nature do not define who we are, or our value.
One of the errors of our society is to tell us, “we’re fine the way we are.” But we’re not. Coming to grips with our own brokenness is part of our salvation. Lots of folks face life-long struggles and shame because of their trials or flaws. Christ accepts us where he finds us, but loves us too much to leave us there.
Jesus said, “Take up your cross.” This has always been a hard sell. Why did he say it? Maybe because he knew that there’s no other way to become truly human.
One of the reasons our message is a hard sell is because our culture demeans chastity so completely. As a result, the idea of life-long chastity seems ridiculous. But is it?
This is the same society that exalts over-consumption and gluttony. Maybe it’s our culture, and its values, that are ridiculous?
Let’s remember, that Christ calls everyone to chastity, not just some.
Married people are called to be chaste in their relations with each other and with others. This, along with the dying to self that comes in marriage and family, are costly.
Still others (with heterosexual feelings) find, for other reasons, they can’t make marriage work. They, too, are called to the same chastity, as divorced or single persons. And then Christ specifically called men and women to be chaste for the kingdom of God—which is what brothers, sisters and priests do. It’s not easy but it’s worth it.
Instead of accepting our society’s (low) value of chastity, we might pause and contemplate how messed up our culture is about these things.
Our society’s warped values about sexuality have created terrible human suffering which we’ve grown used to. We don’t, however, have to accept it as “normal.”
The call to take up the cross is hard; it’s the hardest thing we ever do. We all take up our cross, only to want to put it down as soon as possible!
Everyone, without exception, must come to Christ and admit he or she is broken in some way. We all need his grace throughout our lives to become fully human. Saying these things to those with same-sex attraction is not “hatred” or bigotry—unless we mistakenly think these things don’t apply equally to ourselves.
In every era since Christ came, some part of his message wasn’t listened to, because it was such a challenge to the culture of its time. If, instead of continuing to confront the culture, we had simply re-tailored the Gospel to be “up to date with the times,” the Gospel would have become empty centuries ago.
Jesus told us plainly: his message wouldn’t always be received. We will be criticized and even hated for speaking Christ’s word. He told us to expect that. His command is not to respond in kind, but to turn the other cheek, and to pray for those who persecute or speak ill of us.
The legislature and governor of New York recently acted together to change the definition of marriage, to apply to people of the same sex.
The Catholic Church opposes this redefinition of marriage. As a result, we’ve been criticized as against “progress” and even called bigots. This is so often cast as a question of “rights,” we may wrestle with this, or else feel awkward defending our position.
Let me briefly explain what the Church teaches and why it is important.
This may surprise you, but our stance isn’t based on religion; marriage existed before anyone wrote the first words of the Bible. Marriage arises from human nature itself. Human beings are designed to come together and make a family. This is part of being human and obviously necessary. Marriage is important to the well being of us all .
Still, many will say, “So what? Why not just change the law to accommodate the wishes of those who don’t fit this mold? What’s the harm in that?”
There are several harms, some immediate, some long-term.
First, this is a power-grab by government. The state is imposing a very fundamental change on the whole of society. To some degree, we all must go along with this. What marriage means for our society is changed by this. And we should all ask, Who gave the government the right to do this? Redefining marriage, redefining family, ultimately means redefining what it means to be human. This is social engineering.
Second, society lives in harmony because of shared values. Some say, “we shouldn’t impose our values.” But we can’t avoid it; this is what law does—it reflects shared values that shape how we all live together. So this represents an imposition of new values—which may, or may not, work out so well. It is already spawning conflict.
Third, this affects everyone. Marriage and family are so fundamental, that when we deconstruct the very meaning of such things, it pulls out the foundation stones of our common society.
Parents understand this. When you try to maintain certain values in your home, what your children experience in the other houses on the street affects you; how can it not?
Finally, this is reckless tampering. In recent years, we appreciate better the importance of treating our natural environment with respect. It is complex system which we don’t fully understand; but we do know that we depend on it in order to flourish.
So, with our natural environment, we’ve been chastened to be more humble—because we realize how not respecting it ultimately threatens our own well being. And yet, politicians are re-engineering marriage and family. As Catholic writer Mark Shea often says, the “what can it hurt?” phase will eventually be followed by, “how were we supposed to know?”
We might ask more broadly: What does our faith say about same-sex attraction?
Why some people—2-5% it seems from most reports—experience this attraction, no can fully explain. For some, it is a phase, for others it’s deep-seated. Coming to grips with this at a young age can be very difficult. Some never share this, others are open about it.
Sadly, teasing, cruelty and rejection take a terrible toll. Some young people go through awful trials, and make rash decisions with life-long or even fatal consequences. A lot of folks have serious soul-searching to do about attitudes and behavior toward gay people.
The truth is, that our family and friends who wrestle with these feelings ask the same questions everyone asks: who am I? Why did God make me? How do I fit in his plan?
The answers—for everyone—are: We are made in God’s image. God made us to know, love and serve him in this life, to be happy with him in the next. We spend our lives discovering our particular vocation, but we are all part of his plan.
Many say, this same-sex attraction comes from God; it’s how God made us.
On the basis of what? Certainly Scripture doesn’t support this. But set aside Scripture; human evolution doesn’t support this either. People will often say things like, God made me this way, in order to affirm their sense of worth, to combat shame originating from others or themselves.
But every human being learns that one way or the other, our human nature is wounded. No one can claim to be a flawless image of God. This is a result of Original Sin.
So, when we say same-sex attraction is “broken,” or disordered, not according to the norm God created, this is what we also say of those who eat too much, who can’t stay faithful in marriage, who are filled with rage, and so forth. We’re all broken.
But: the wounds in our human nature do not define who we are, or our value.
One of the errors of our society is to tell us, “we’re fine the way we are.” But we’re not. Coming to grips with our own brokenness is part of our salvation. Lots of folks face life-long struggles and shame because of their trials or flaws. Christ accepts us where he finds us, but loves us too much to leave us there.
Jesus said, “Take up your cross.” This has always been a hard sell. Why did he say it? Maybe because he knew that there’s no other way to become truly human.
One of the reasons our message is a hard sell is because our culture demeans chastity so completely. As a result, the idea of life-long chastity seems ridiculous. But is it?
This is the same society that exalts over-consumption and gluttony. Maybe it’s our culture, and its values, that are ridiculous?
Let’s remember, that Christ calls everyone to chastity, not just some.
Married people are called to be chaste in their relations with each other and with others. This, along with the dying to self that comes in marriage and family, are costly.
Still others (with heterosexual feelings) find, for other reasons, they can’t make marriage work. They, too, are called to the same chastity, as divorced or single persons. And then Christ specifically called men and women to be chaste for the kingdom of God—which is what brothers, sisters and priests do. It’s not easy but it’s worth it.
Instead of accepting our society’s (low) value of chastity, we might pause and contemplate how messed up our culture is about these things.
Our society’s warped values about sexuality have created terrible human suffering which we’ve grown used to. We don’t, however, have to accept it as “normal.”
The call to take up the cross is hard; it’s the hardest thing we ever do. We all take up our cross, only to want to put it down as soon as possible!
Everyone, without exception, must come to Christ and admit he or she is broken in some way. We all need his grace throughout our lives to become fully human. Saying these things to those with same-sex attraction is not “hatred” or bigotry—unless we mistakenly think these things don’t apply equally to ourselves.
In every era since Christ came, some part of his message wasn’t listened to, because it was such a challenge to the culture of its time. If, instead of continuing to confront the culture, we had simply re-tailored the Gospel to be “up to date with the times,” the Gospel would have become empty centuries ago.
Jesus told us plainly: his message wouldn’t always be received. We will be criticized and even hated for speaking Christ’s word. He told us to expect that. His command is not to respond in kind, but to turn the other cheek, and to pray for those who persecute or speak ill of us.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Boldness of the Eucharist (Corpus Christi homily)
When we think about the Eucharist,
there are obviously aspects that make us ponder.
We see this miracle, and we think about how
God’s power is on display.
Through the priest Jesus makes his sacrifice
of Good Friday present on this altar.
As part of that, Jesus turns ordinary bread and wine
into his own Body and Blood--into his true self.
That’s power--and yet, notice God’s vulnerability.
I put God himself on your tongue, or in your hands.
He’s in my power--he’s in your power.
What will we do with Him?
Sometimes he’s taken lightly;
we give him a moment’s thought and move on.
Priests take liberties with the Mass or take it as a routine.
There’s a boldness to the Eucharist.
Jesus puts himself out there, on the line.
He put the Eucharist--the Mass--in the hands of his Church,
counting on us to be faithful to it,
counting on priests not to mess up.
I’d like to suggest that this demands a similar boldness from us.
One form of that boldness is our procession this weekend.
We aren’t just going to keep Jesus in our churches.
We are going out into the streets of Piqua,
carrying the Lord of the Universe to his people.
Some will respond in faith; others with indifference--
and some even with mockery.
Why should that surprise us--or deter us?
They crowned him with thorns--
why should we be surprised if you or I get similar treatment?
Peter and the Apostles rejoiced
when they suffered for the Name of Christ--and so should we!
How can we not be bold for Christ?
If we’re not being bold in sharing our faith, something is wrong.
It’s surely not because there’s nothing to say;
not because there’s no one who needs to hear it.
You might answer, “I don’t know what to say.”
Jesus said don’t worry about it:
the Holy Spirit will give you words.
But he counts on us to be bold. He’s relying on us.
I can’t fail to mention something. I know it’s delicate.
We know what happened in New York on Friday,
when the legislature redefined marriage.
Lots of people are celebrating that;
and the Catholic bishops of New York--and really, all of us--
are being cast as bad guys, enemies of “progress.”
We’re being called “bigots.”
Why do we say that marriage is only between a man and a woman? Why do we insist?
My answer may surprise you.
But it’s not--I repeat, not--because of what Scripture says.
It’s because that the reality of what human beings are.
Marriage is a product of human nature itself.
We defend marriage and family with a father and mother
for reasons similar to why we defend the environment
and why we care about animals being wiped out.
Our natural world is complex system--
wrecking our environment is a pretty dangerous thing to do.
So why are we so cavalier about the human environment, the family?
A better question is,
who gave the state of New York
the right to redefine what marriage is?
Can the government do whatever it likes,
as long as it has the votes, and interest groups to please?
When the government redefines what marriage is,
it also redefines what the family is--
and, eventually, what it means to be human.
And when they do that, all of us are affected.
Everyone is affected.
And I bring this up, not only because it’s timely--
and I owe it to you to teach our Faith--
but also because this is an example
of where boldness from us is needed.
We’re standing by while this is happening.
God didn’t send us here to stand by and be silent, but to speak up.
Not with any malice at all. We aren’t “against” anyone.
That is not Christ’s message.
But are for marriage and the family.
And if folks mock us or say bad things about us,
we should not be surprised.
We are Christ’s followers, that’s what he told us would happen.
Christ is bold in the Eucharist. He puts himself out there for us.
He calls us to do the same, right beside him.
there are obviously aspects that make us ponder.
We see this miracle, and we think about how
God’s power is on display.
Through the priest Jesus makes his sacrifice
of Good Friday present on this altar.
As part of that, Jesus turns ordinary bread and wine
into his own Body and Blood--into his true self.
That’s power--and yet, notice God’s vulnerability.
I put God himself on your tongue, or in your hands.
He’s in my power--he’s in your power.
What will we do with Him?
Sometimes he’s taken lightly;
we give him a moment’s thought and move on.
Priests take liberties with the Mass or take it as a routine.
There’s a boldness to the Eucharist.
Jesus puts himself out there, on the line.
He put the Eucharist--the Mass--in the hands of his Church,
counting on us to be faithful to it,
counting on priests not to mess up.
I’d like to suggest that this demands a similar boldness from us.
One form of that boldness is our procession this weekend.
We aren’t just going to keep Jesus in our churches.
We are going out into the streets of Piqua,
carrying the Lord of the Universe to his people.
Some will respond in faith; others with indifference--
and some even with mockery.
Why should that surprise us--or deter us?
They crowned him with thorns--
why should we be surprised if you or I get similar treatment?
Peter and the Apostles rejoiced
when they suffered for the Name of Christ--and so should we!
How can we not be bold for Christ?
If we’re not being bold in sharing our faith, something is wrong.
It’s surely not because there’s nothing to say;
not because there’s no one who needs to hear it.
You might answer, “I don’t know what to say.”
Jesus said don’t worry about it:
the Holy Spirit will give you words.
But he counts on us to be bold. He’s relying on us.
I can’t fail to mention something. I know it’s delicate.
We know what happened in New York on Friday,
when the legislature redefined marriage.
Lots of people are celebrating that;
and the Catholic bishops of New York--and really, all of us--
are being cast as bad guys, enemies of “progress.”
We’re being called “bigots.”
Why do we say that marriage is only between a man and a woman? Why do we insist?
My answer may surprise you.
But it’s not--I repeat, not--because of what Scripture says.
It’s because that the reality of what human beings are.
Marriage is a product of human nature itself.
We defend marriage and family with a father and mother
for reasons similar to why we defend the environment
and why we care about animals being wiped out.
Our natural world is complex system--
wrecking our environment is a pretty dangerous thing to do.
So why are we so cavalier about the human environment, the family?
A better question is,
who gave the state of New York
the right to redefine what marriage is?
Can the government do whatever it likes,
as long as it has the votes, and interest groups to please?
When the government redefines what marriage is,
it also redefines what the family is--
and, eventually, what it means to be human.
And when they do that, all of us are affected.
Everyone is affected.
And I bring this up, not only because it’s timely--
and I owe it to you to teach our Faith--
but also because this is an example
of where boldness from us is needed.
We’re standing by while this is happening.
God didn’t send us here to stand by and be silent, but to speak up.
Not with any malice at all. We aren’t “against” anyone.
That is not Christ’s message.
But are for marriage and the family.
And if folks mock us or say bad things about us,
we should not be surprised.
We are Christ’s followers, that’s what he told us would happen.
Christ is bold in the Eucharist. He puts himself out there for us.
He calls us to do the same, right beside him.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Verdi's Requiem
Yesterday afternoon I was with my cousin at the Meyerhoff Auditorium in Baltimore, to hear the Baltimore Symphony present Verdi's Requiem.
Wow, what an awesome experience! I shall never forget it.
You can easily look up the backstory on Verdi's Requiem--he composed it for a fellow composer who died; and although it is based on the texts of the Requiem Mass, it's far from clear this music was ever used for a Mass. Easy to see why: it calls for both an orchestra and a significant chorus.
Nevertheless, it uses the actual texts of the older form of the Mass for the dead. The show-stopper is his "Dies Irae" which is the sequence that came before the Gospel. If you go to Youtube, you can easily find this and hear it for yourself. Now imagine listening to this live. I also imagined it being performed at the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, in Washington, where the dominant mosaic is of our Lord in judgment.
Verdi's work portrays something so important about the spiritual realm and the Mass: that we are always engaged in spiritual combat, for souls, and while the Lord's victory is not in doubt, his victory is a fruit of real combat. The destiny of each soul cannot be taken for granted.
If salvation were so easy as we might suppose, none of our Faith makes any sense. Why should God have become incarnate? Why suffer and die? Why would he have said, so frequently and insistently, that it had to be this way? And then, why the sacraments? Why the Mass? Why any of it, if salvation is easy?
Of course, in one sense, it could be: God could snap his fingers and save everyone. Why doesn't he?
Because salvation is more than fashioning a new creation of automatons. God wishes our cooperation. So much is unknown to us, about the new creation--but what lies ahead must demand quite a lot of us, thus God so patiently--and often inexplicably--seeks both our cooperation, and our efforts to bring more of humanity along.
Verdi's Requiem explored and illustrated the fierce contest over souls. The Dies Irae, in particular, makes clear that God is just and there is such a thing as judgment--experienced as wrath for all that opposes him. That sounds harsh; but things that are ugly and corrupt deserve wrath. Injustice--soul-killing, life-deforming injustice--does not merit wrath?
But that's only part of the story; God's wrath is that which is left when all else God offers has been closed out. Yet it must be part of the story, or else the whole thing, again, makes no sense. Without damnation being possible, there is no drama.
As I sat listening yesterday--mostly with my eyes closed--I thought of how well Verdi illustrated the deeper reality of the Mass: that there is a cosmic drama, into which we are drawn by the Mass. We enter into the Lord's combat for souls. We offer his Body and Blood for the salvation of souls. We plead for mercy with the shed blood of the Lamb.
Again, we could say, "oh but the outcome is certain; we are simply recalling what he already did." Consoling, is it not? Yet are we entitled to suppose this? Christ leads us into combat--what sort of soldiers are we to say, "take it easy folks, our champion is going to win the day no matter what we do"? Do we think the Lord is play-acting and we're supposed to pretend it's all serious? Maybe he really means it?
Everyone sat in rapt silence (well, almost everyone; a handful actually got up and left, which I find amazing. At one point, someone behind me got up, and made a bit of noise; the conductor seemed aware of it, and she gestured as if to say, to the singers, wait...and to the noisemaker, "please stop!") until the final notes died away. For my part, I didn't want to clap, and break the spell; it seemed everyone took a deep breath before putting their hands together. Everyone leapt to his feet and the four soloists and the conductor made three curtain calls. My cousin said he's never seen anything like it.
Wow, what an awesome experience! I shall never forget it.
You can easily look up the backstory on Verdi's Requiem--he composed it for a fellow composer who died; and although it is based on the texts of the Requiem Mass, it's far from clear this music was ever used for a Mass. Easy to see why: it calls for both an orchestra and a significant chorus.
Nevertheless, it uses the actual texts of the older form of the Mass for the dead. The show-stopper is his "Dies Irae" which is the sequence that came before the Gospel. If you go to Youtube, you can easily find this and hear it for yourself. Now imagine listening to this live. I also imagined it being performed at the Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, in Washington, where the dominant mosaic is of our Lord in judgment.
Verdi's work portrays something so important about the spiritual realm and the Mass: that we are always engaged in spiritual combat, for souls, and while the Lord's victory is not in doubt, his victory is a fruit of real combat. The destiny of each soul cannot be taken for granted.
If salvation were so easy as we might suppose, none of our Faith makes any sense. Why should God have become incarnate? Why suffer and die? Why would he have said, so frequently and insistently, that it had to be this way? And then, why the sacraments? Why the Mass? Why any of it, if salvation is easy?
Of course, in one sense, it could be: God could snap his fingers and save everyone. Why doesn't he?
Because salvation is more than fashioning a new creation of automatons. God wishes our cooperation. So much is unknown to us, about the new creation--but what lies ahead must demand quite a lot of us, thus God so patiently--and often inexplicably--seeks both our cooperation, and our efforts to bring more of humanity along.
Verdi's Requiem explored and illustrated the fierce contest over souls. The Dies Irae, in particular, makes clear that God is just and there is such a thing as judgment--experienced as wrath for all that opposes him. That sounds harsh; but things that are ugly and corrupt deserve wrath. Injustice--soul-killing, life-deforming injustice--does not merit wrath?
But that's only part of the story; God's wrath is that which is left when all else God offers has been closed out. Yet it must be part of the story, or else the whole thing, again, makes no sense. Without damnation being possible, there is no drama.
As I sat listening yesterday--mostly with my eyes closed--I thought of how well Verdi illustrated the deeper reality of the Mass: that there is a cosmic drama, into which we are drawn by the Mass. We enter into the Lord's combat for souls. We offer his Body and Blood for the salvation of souls. We plead for mercy with the shed blood of the Lamb.
Again, we could say, "oh but the outcome is certain; we are simply recalling what he already did." Consoling, is it not? Yet are we entitled to suppose this? Christ leads us into combat--what sort of soldiers are we to say, "take it easy folks, our champion is going to win the day no matter what we do"? Do we think the Lord is play-acting and we're supposed to pretend it's all serious? Maybe he really means it?
Everyone sat in rapt silence (well, almost everyone; a handful actually got up and left, which I find amazing. At one point, someone behind me got up, and made a bit of noise; the conductor seemed aware of it, and she gestured as if to say, to the singers, wait...and to the noisemaker, "please stop!") until the final notes died away. For my part, I didn't want to clap, and break the spell; it seemed everyone took a deep breath before putting their hands together. Everyone leapt to his feet and the four soloists and the conductor made three curtain calls. My cousin said he's never seen anything like it.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
On the road...
I'm on vacation, so maybe I'll post more? Hard to say, internet connections are hard to come by.
Thursday I was at the ordination of our new auxiliary bishop, Joseph Binzer. Congratulations your excellency! It was a beautiful Mass and at the end, Bishop Binzer was escorted (by Archbishops Schnurr and Pilarczyk) through the cathedral giving his blessing to all the people. It took awhile--Bishop Binzer was obviously delighted to enact ritually the kindness he always gives God's people. Then he was brought back to the sanctuary, and invited to say a few words. His words were pure (Bishop) Binzer: "this is the day the Lord has made--let us rejoice and be glad!" But Bishop Binzer uttered them at least an octave higher than his usual pitch--such was his exhilaration. Applause broke out several times--but I don't wish you to think it was an undignified Mass; it was not; nor was anyone goading on those shows of affection.
After that I hit the road, stopping off in St. Clairsville, outside Wheeling. I made it to Arlington, Virginia Friday, where I'm staying with some brother priests. Yesterday I concelebrated Mass at St. Mary Parish in Alexandria; today I had Mass at St. John the Beloved in McLean, Virginia. That was amusing.
I presented myself to the pastor, Father Paul Scalia, outside church--he was vested from the prior Mass--and I asked if I might concelebrate the next Mass. We went to the sacristy, and he said, well, how about just taking the Mass for me? It turns out he was shorthanded, and I was fine with that. I have no homily prepared, however, I told him--so he returned to preach the homily. As I explained to the altar boys at St. Mary's, offering Mass is not a chore. But--while I am honored to preach God's Word, that can be tiring. Plus, Father Scalia's parishioners had everything very well organized; it was a pleasure to offer the Sacrifice there. The army of altar boys around me did a good job of keeping me from wandering off or tripping over anything.
After Mass, I saw Father's sister. While Father and I had not met before, his sister and I knew each other from years back, and it was nice to greet her again. Another friend--who I had not seen in awhile--turned up and we talked. Now I am pausing briefly at Starbucks for some coffee, before I drive up to Baltimore to see my cousin. We're going to visit the restored Basilica in Baltimore, and then take in a concert by the Baltimore Symphony.
Dear parishioners: I am offering Mass for you daily! Thank you for letting me get away for some rest.
Thursday I was at the ordination of our new auxiliary bishop, Joseph Binzer. Congratulations your excellency! It was a beautiful Mass and at the end, Bishop Binzer was escorted (by Archbishops Schnurr and Pilarczyk) through the cathedral giving his blessing to all the people. It took awhile--Bishop Binzer was obviously delighted to enact ritually the kindness he always gives God's people. Then he was brought back to the sanctuary, and invited to say a few words. His words were pure (Bishop) Binzer: "this is the day the Lord has made--let us rejoice and be glad!" But Bishop Binzer uttered them at least an octave higher than his usual pitch--such was his exhilaration. Applause broke out several times--but I don't wish you to think it was an undignified Mass; it was not; nor was anyone goading on those shows of affection.
After that I hit the road, stopping off in St. Clairsville, outside Wheeling. I made it to Arlington, Virginia Friday, where I'm staying with some brother priests. Yesterday I concelebrated Mass at St. Mary Parish in Alexandria; today I had Mass at St. John the Beloved in McLean, Virginia. That was amusing.
I presented myself to the pastor, Father Paul Scalia, outside church--he was vested from the prior Mass--and I asked if I might concelebrate the next Mass. We went to the sacristy, and he said, well, how about just taking the Mass for me? It turns out he was shorthanded, and I was fine with that. I have no homily prepared, however, I told him--so he returned to preach the homily. As I explained to the altar boys at St. Mary's, offering Mass is not a chore. But--while I am honored to preach God's Word, that can be tiring. Plus, Father Scalia's parishioners had everything very well organized; it was a pleasure to offer the Sacrifice there. The army of altar boys around me did a good job of keeping me from wandering off or tripping over anything.
After Mass, I saw Father's sister. While Father and I had not met before, his sister and I knew each other from years back, and it was nice to greet her again. Another friend--who I had not seen in awhile--turned up and we talked. Now I am pausing briefly at Starbucks for some coffee, before I drive up to Baltimore to see my cousin. We're going to visit the restored Basilica in Baltimore, and then take in a concert by the Baltimore Symphony.
Dear parishioners: I am offering Mass for you daily! Thank you for letting me get away for some rest.
Sunday, June 05, 2011
'Jesus never left!' (Ascension Homily)
This feast of the Ascension comes at the tail-end
of the Easter Season, just before Pentecost.
We might wonder how it fits in.
On Easter, Jesus rose from the dead in his human body.
Then for 40 days, he was with his followers again.
we only know a little about what that was like.
We do know he restored the faith of Thomas and Peter.
We know he “opened their eyes”
to the meaning of his death and resurrection.
And he opened their eyes
to the meaning of the Eucharist:
remember how he made known to them
“in the breaking of the Bread”?
Everything is being readied for a new chapter—
the birth of the Church—and the key is the Holy Spirit.
Let me highlight some parallels:
In Genesis, creation begins
with the Spirit hovering over the waters.
Jesus is conceived in the womb of Mary
by the Holy Spirit who “overshadowed” her—
see how the window depicts it?
Notice how the Church will be born:
Jesus ascends to heaven,
and then he sends the Holy Spirit.
Then—and now—the question always is,
“Who is this Jesus?”
In the Gospels, that’s what everybody asks.
They kept scrambling for answers:
“He’s a prophet” “he’s a teacher,”
“he’s the Messiah we’ve hoped for”…
Yes—but more.
People soon got the scary feeling
that there was a lot more going on with Jesus.
When he silenced a storm on the sea,
His disciples were in shock:
“What sort of man is this,
whom even the winds and the sea obey?”
When he “taught with authority”—
that is, with God’s own authority—
the scribes and Pharisees asked,
“who do make yourself out to be?”
The full truth was beyond anyone’s imagining:
It was after the resurrection
that Thomas finally blurted it out:
“My Lord and my God!”
They could see without question he was human, like them;
now, when they saw him return to his throne in heaven,
they also knew what Thomas had said:
“My Lord and my God!”
Yet, does there not seem to be a contradiction?
Jesus goes to heaven, yet he promised,
“I am with you always, until the end of the age”?
Here’s the thing—and this is a challenging idea,
but here it is:
In the Ascension,
it isn’t really Jesus who changes his “location.”
It seems that way, but it’s not.
He really stays right where he’s always been.
He’s the Lord God; he is always at the center of it all.
His throne is wherever he is.
Heaven is wherever he is.
So when he “ascended into heaven,”
it wasn’t that he moved—but we moved.
When Jesus ascended into heaven,
humanity ascended to heaven.
When he returned to his throne,
our humanity went with him.
So Pope Benedict has made the point that Jesus never really “went away”;
the Second Coming isn’t really a “return,”
so much as it is the completion of his coming into the world.
So let’s get this straight:
Jesus never left! Jesus never left!
Saint Athanasius made an excellent point here.
He wrote, “there is no part of the world
that was ever without” the presence of God the Son—
but it was an invisible presence.
“Taking pity on mankind’s weakness…
[the Son] took to himself a body,
no different from our own.”
But not merely to be seen—
above all, he did it to be an offering—
God took a body that could die.
But here’s the thing: if all that—
God-becoming-man, dying on the Cross,
and rising from the dead,
were so important to do at one point in time…
The question remains:
what about all of us who didn’t live back then?
How does God make these things real…to us?
The Mass and the Eucharist!
Again, the key is the Holy Spirit.
Recall the parallels:
The Holy Spirit…at creation;
The Holy Spirit…overshadowing Mary;
The Holy Spirit, descending on Pentecost.
But there’s one more:
Just before the climax of the Mass,
the priest stands at the altar,
and begs the Holy Spirit to come down,
that these gifts of bread and wine
“become for us the Body and Blood
of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Without the Eucharist,
Jesus’ presence in the world—
goes back to being invisible.
In the bulletin, you’ll see that in three weeks,
Our parishes will honor the Eucharist in a special way.
We’ll have a weekend of adoration,
all day and night, at St. Mary.
This will take the place of adoration at St. Clare Chapel.
Then, on Sunday, June 26,
after the Sunday evening, 5 pm Mass,
we’ll have a procession, with the Eucharist,
from St. Mary Church to St. Boniface Church.
We will carry our Lord Jesus in the Eucharist,
on the streets of our city
You and I will proclaim to Piqua:
“Our Lord and our God!”
Let there be no question: Jesus never left!
We don’t need to gaze up into heaven.
The throne of heaven is not up there, far away:
He is here—until the end of the age.
of the Easter Season, just before Pentecost.
We might wonder how it fits in.
On Easter, Jesus rose from the dead in his human body.
Then for 40 days, he was with his followers again.
we only know a little about what that was like.
We do know he restored the faith of Thomas and Peter.
We know he “opened their eyes”
to the meaning of his death and resurrection.
And he opened their eyes
to the meaning of the Eucharist:
remember how he made known to them
“in the breaking of the Bread”?
Everything is being readied for a new chapter—
the birth of the Church—and the key is the Holy Spirit.
Let me highlight some parallels:
In Genesis, creation begins
with the Spirit hovering over the waters.
Jesus is conceived in the womb of Mary
by the Holy Spirit who “overshadowed” her—
see how the window depicts it?
Notice how the Church will be born:
Jesus ascends to heaven,
and then he sends the Holy Spirit.
Then—and now—the question always is,
“Who is this Jesus?”
In the Gospels, that’s what everybody asks.
They kept scrambling for answers:
“He’s a prophet” “he’s a teacher,”
“he’s the Messiah we’ve hoped for”…
Yes—but more.
People soon got the scary feeling
that there was a lot more going on with Jesus.
When he silenced a storm on the sea,
His disciples were in shock:
“What sort of man is this,
whom even the winds and the sea obey?”
When he “taught with authority”—
that is, with God’s own authority—
the scribes and Pharisees asked,
“who do make yourself out to be?”
The full truth was beyond anyone’s imagining:
It was after the resurrection
that Thomas finally blurted it out:
“My Lord and my God!”
They could see without question he was human, like them;
now, when they saw him return to his throne in heaven,
they also knew what Thomas had said:
“My Lord and my God!”
Yet, does there not seem to be a contradiction?
Jesus goes to heaven, yet he promised,
“I am with you always, until the end of the age”?
Here’s the thing—and this is a challenging idea,
but here it is:
In the Ascension,
it isn’t really Jesus who changes his “location.”
It seems that way, but it’s not.
He really stays right where he’s always been.
He’s the Lord God; he is always at the center of it all.
His throne is wherever he is.
Heaven is wherever he is.
So when he “ascended into heaven,”
it wasn’t that he moved—but we moved.
When Jesus ascended into heaven,
humanity ascended to heaven.
When he returned to his throne,
our humanity went with him.
So Pope Benedict has made the point that Jesus never really “went away”;
the Second Coming isn’t really a “return,”
so much as it is the completion of his coming into the world.
So let’s get this straight:
Jesus never left! Jesus never left!
Saint Athanasius made an excellent point here.
He wrote, “there is no part of the world
that was ever without” the presence of God the Son—
but it was an invisible presence.
“Taking pity on mankind’s weakness…
[the Son] took to himself a body,
no different from our own.”
But not merely to be seen—
above all, he did it to be an offering—
God took a body that could die.
But here’s the thing: if all that—
God-becoming-man, dying on the Cross,
and rising from the dead,
were so important to do at one point in time…
The question remains:
what about all of us who didn’t live back then?
How does God make these things real…to us?
The Mass and the Eucharist!
Again, the key is the Holy Spirit.
Recall the parallels:
The Holy Spirit…at creation;
The Holy Spirit…overshadowing Mary;
The Holy Spirit, descending on Pentecost.
But there’s one more:
Just before the climax of the Mass,
the priest stands at the altar,
and begs the Holy Spirit to come down,
that these gifts of bread and wine
“become for us the Body and Blood
of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Without the Eucharist,
Jesus’ presence in the world—
goes back to being invisible.
In the bulletin, you’ll see that in three weeks,
Our parishes will honor the Eucharist in a special way.
We’ll have a weekend of adoration,
all day and night, at St. Mary.
This will take the place of adoration at St. Clare Chapel.
Then, on Sunday, June 26,
after the Sunday evening, 5 pm Mass,
we’ll have a procession, with the Eucharist,
from St. Mary Church to St. Boniface Church.
We will carry our Lord Jesus in the Eucharist,
on the streets of our city
You and I will proclaim to Piqua:
“Our Lord and our God!”
Let there be no question: Jesus never left!
We don’t need to gaze up into heaven.
The throne of heaven is not up there, far away:
He is here—until the end of the age.
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