No series on Amoris laetitia would be complete without a post on one of the issues that got a lot of attention, from the two sessions of the Synod on the Family down to the publication of the Exhortation itself, namely the question of Holy Communion for the divorced and civilly remarried. Chapter eight of Amoris laetitia goes into this question in detail.
While it's true that the Exhortation gives us no new doctrine in the strict sense of the term, we are in a new place in the post-Amoris laetitia Church. As I alluded to when I began this series of posts, it seems to me that what we have mostly is a new challenge for pastors of souls.
Showing posts with label Matrimony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matrimony. Show all posts
May 23, 2016
May 17, 2016
Amoris laetitia: Faith
Committing oneself exclusively and definitively to another person always involves a risk and a bold gamble. (132)Finding this line in Amoris laetitia reminded me a lot of the marriage preparation and pastoral care I used to do when I was assigned to a parish.
Starting out in the parish ministry, I struggled a little to know how to preach faith to the folks who came for marriage preparation and to celebrate their weddings, most of whom--with some brightly shining exceptions--were not practicing the faith.
After some time, experience, and reflection, I arrived at the point that worked for me in preaching and pastoral care: the very thing that they were doing, exchanging the consent of marriage, was a great act of faith.
May 12, 2016
Amoris laetitia: Mary
Nor would it be good for them to arrive at the wedding without ever having prayed together, one for the other, to seek God’s help in remaining faithful and generous, to ask the Lord together what he wants of them, and to consecrate their love before an image of the Virgin Mary. (216)This quote reminded me of the many weddings I had back in Yonkers that included a little procession of the newlyweds to offer some flowers to Our Lady on her side altar. During rehearsals I would advise the couple to take it slow and spend a good moment on this little pilgrimage, perhaps saying a Hail Mary together and asking Our Lady's prayers for their new life together.
April 26, 2016
Amoris laetitia: Generally Speaking
I finished reading Amoris laetitia yesterday. It's really a beautiful document, and very tender. True to genre, it's an exhortation, exhorting those to whom it is addressed--bishops, priests, deacons, consecrated persons, Christian married couples, and all the lay faithful--to recognize the great graces God gives to us and desires for us in our existence as families and members of families, even in the many situations in which we find ourselves falling short of receiving all of them. In this spirit, the exhortation concludes:
"May we never lose heart because of our limitations, or ever stop seeking that fullness of love and communion which God holds out before us." (325)
"May we never lose heart because of our limitations, or ever stop seeking that fullness of love and communion which God holds out before us." (325)
October 26, 2015
The Synod and the Internal Forum
Well, the Synod is over and maybe we can all relax a little bit. The whole business brings to mind something from my early days in the Church. When I was taking 'convert instructions' one of the books I was given for my catechesis was called The Question Box, or something like that, by a Fr. John Dietzen. It was a kind of question-and-answer book, like a compilation of questions addressed to a newspaper column.
I remember that two of the big issues in the book were whether the Eucharist was a meal or a sacrifice (both of course, with each transforming the other and the result being more than the sum of its parts) and the internal forum solution for the divorced and civilly remarried. That was over twenty years ago when I read the book, and it must have been published before that. So what the Synod has said on this is hardly new.
Is such an internal forum solution subject to abuse? Certainly. But so is the whole of the sacramental economy. How many Masses are offered each day by priests in mortal sin? On the other hand, are there folks out there who could surely benefit from such an internal forum solution but do not receive it because they never approach a pastor or because their pastor is unapproachable, because the Church has not given them with the 'accompaniment' and 'discernment' of which the Synod speaks? Also certainly yes.
I remember that two of the big issues in the book were whether the Eucharist was a meal or a sacrifice (both of course, with each transforming the other and the result being more than the sum of its parts) and the internal forum solution for the divorced and civilly remarried. That was over twenty years ago when I read the book, and it must have been published before that. So what the Synod has said on this is hardly new.
Is such an internal forum solution subject to abuse? Certainly. But so is the whole of the sacramental economy. How many Masses are offered each day by priests in mortal sin? On the other hand, are there folks out there who could surely benefit from such an internal forum solution but do not receive it because they never approach a pastor or because their pastor is unapproachable, because the Church has not given them with the 'accompaniment' and 'discernment' of which the Synod speaks? Also certainly yes.
February 7, 2013
Apostolic Non-Adventure
Warning: this is something of a non-post.
Recently I went on my first errand to procure a papal blessing, and I thought it might result in one of my 'Italian Adventures' posts. You know what I'm talking about, those papal blessings. You've seen them. People get them for special occasions, big anniversaries and things like that. Here's a picture of one I found on Wikimedia Commons:
Obtaining these things for purposes associated with the English-using Capuchin world is part of my new job. You can arrange for them in lots of the gift shops around the Vatican, but because I thought it would be more prone to having an interesting adventure, I decided to go right to the office in the Vatican itself, the Elemosineria Apostolica. How would you translate that? The 'Apostolic Almonry,' I guess. Unfortunately, no great story emerged.
Recently I went on my first errand to procure a papal blessing, and I thought it might result in one of my 'Italian Adventures' posts. You know what I'm talking about, those papal blessings. You've seen them. People get them for special occasions, big anniversaries and things like that. Here's a picture of one I found on Wikimedia Commons:
Obtaining these things for purposes associated with the English-using Capuchin world is part of my new job. You can arrange for them in lots of the gift shops around the Vatican, but because I thought it would be more prone to having an interesting adventure, I decided to go right to the office in the Vatican itself, the Elemosineria Apostolica. How would you translate that? The 'Apostolic Almonry,' I guess. Unfortunately, no great story emerged.
January 20, 2013
Sunday Ramble
I really appreciate Sundays in my current assignment. It seems like we make an effort to put work on hold for a day and just take some quiet. After Mauds*, four empty hours of morning stretch out wonderfully before dinner. I tend to use the time to read, to clean out my inbox by answering those emails that are a little more personal or for whatever reason were more suited to a quieter moment, and to write real letters. Today I came to the end of all that with some time still remaining before dinner, so I went to the chapel to say Midday Prayer (which we don't have in common on Sundays) and to pray a little.
I was praying about how my moods and emotional states still have too much of an effect on my discernment and where I imagine myself to be with God. Whether I feel good or lousy on the emotional level, either way, interferes with the clarity of my prayer. I can even start to mistake these states for my spiritual condition. I prayed for a greater sense of faith, as something that I stand upon, or that grounds, or is behind or above--pick whichever metaphor works for you--all of that.
What came to mind was a set of events in my life: my baptism, my religious profession, my priestly ordination, and how, in God, these moments held within themselves everything that came after them for me, much of which I never would of imagined. On that tired old Saturday afternoon in the summer of 1992, when Deacon Ron poured water on my head and invoked the Blessed Trinity, everything that has come of my Christianity was contained in that brief moment of water and word: the twists and turns the journey has taken me on, the fellowship, the loneliness, the sensations of being lost and then found, or found and then lost, the joys and regrets, the friendships made and the friends lost. There were present all the prayers I would ever say, and the few of them that have been truly prayerful. Even all the sins I have committed since that moment were present in my baptism in a certain way. For, as I'll never forget, I once asked a spiritual director where God was when I was sinning. And he looked at me like I was the sad, ignorant case that I am and said, "He's on the Cross, suffering with you."
In the double-moment of my religious profession, first on a Saturday Morning in Yonkers, New York, and then, four years later, on another one in Middletown, Connecticut, my whole life as a Capuchin friar was present, my joy at receiving the mercy of this vocation and the salvation God has worked for me through it, my struggles to know how to observe the Rule I have promised, the burning desire for obedience, poverty, and chastity God has put in me set against the shallowness of my efforts to put them into practice. In that moment were all the joys and consolation I have had from brothers who have been true brother to me, as well as the injuries I bear from those who have hurt me. And there are all of my meager attempts to be brother to the brothers the Lord has given me, and all my failures to live up that simple title. And there is so much more, all of it every way that my whole experiment of finding myself in this journey of Christianity has come to be inextricably woven together with the example and words of St. Francis of Assisi.
In my ordination to the priesthood, in that moment when Seán O'Malley laid his hands on my head, anointed my hands, and prayed over me the prayer of consecration, everything my priesthood has been was present. There were the infinite graces of each Mass I have ever offered, there was whatever truth and encouragement the Holy Spirit was ever able to give to God's people through my small efforts at being a diligent preacher, there was the privilege of hearing every confession I've ever heard, as well as the awesome, saving healing of every absolution I have ever given, the forgiveness of God--stronger than sin and death--given from Jesus Christ to St. Peter and then passed down through the hands of so many and finally into the unworthy, dingy vessel of my voice.
I realize that I stand on those moments, and that whatever else should become of me as a Christian, as a religious, and as a priest, from right now, on this rainy Sunday afternoon until I should die, sooner or later, flows from them and, in a sense, is those moments. And I think this is what we mean when we talk about things as sacraments.
I arrived at such a confession through recalling a reflection on faith I used to have from time to time when I was working in the parish. A certain collection of circumstances led me to have, during the middle set of my three springs and summers as a parish priest, a lot of weddings. I think there was a spell of fourteen weeks, if I remember rightly, during which I had at least one every weekend. So that meant a weekly rhythm of rehearsals and wedding liturgies themselves, not to mention many last-minute phone calls from anxious brides and a few near-misses with paperwork arriving from other dioceses. So during this time, as a result of reflecting on what I could say for wedding homilies, shtick for rehearsals, and little catecheses for meetings, I had a lot of opportunity to reflect on what marriage might mean as an act of worship and faith. And it was just this that began to strike me, that a marriage was an expression of faith. In giving themselves to each other precisely as sacrament, what the couple were proclaiming to the Church and to the world was their faith that what they had found in each other was going to be stronger, more important, and more durable than a future that they didn't and couldn't know. It was to say that the goodness of the Creator had come to be reflected in their union, that they had found in each other the original blessing--a blessing not forfeited by original sin nor washed away by the flood, as one of the nuptial blessings puts it--that was the gaze of God upon his creation when he knew it to be good. God is love, and so to be in love always touches upon God and his eternity, which is why lovers always say, 'forever',whether they know what they are saying or not. The experience itself demands the closest imitation we have of God's eternity, our total self-giving, our unqualified 'forever.'
So in my own reflection for myself today, I find something similar. If I really believe in sacrament and it what the Church means by public vows, I too have to know that there was more faithfulness present in my baptism, religious profession, and ordination than a 'faith' that I could have been aware of in my own subjective desire or fervor or relative lack thereof at those moments. This is because our 'faith' isn't about how we feel or even how we think, in the sense of the depth of our intellectual assent to the articles of the faith, but about our willingness to let the faithfulness of Jesus Christ make a home within us, both for our own salvation and for that of others as it may please the Holy Spirit to work it through us.
*"Mauds" is the name I give to the liturgy that results from combining Morning Prayer with Mass, as a portmanteau of 'Mass' and 'Lauds.' For more information see my post, "On the Various Forms of Prass."
I was praying about how my moods and emotional states still have too much of an effect on my discernment and where I imagine myself to be with God. Whether I feel good or lousy on the emotional level, either way, interferes with the clarity of my prayer. I can even start to mistake these states for my spiritual condition. I prayed for a greater sense of faith, as something that I stand upon, or that grounds, or is behind or above--pick whichever metaphor works for you--all of that.
What came to mind was a set of events in my life: my baptism, my religious profession, my priestly ordination, and how, in God, these moments held within themselves everything that came after them for me, much of which I never would of imagined. On that tired old Saturday afternoon in the summer of 1992, when Deacon Ron poured water on my head and invoked the Blessed Trinity, everything that has come of my Christianity was contained in that brief moment of water and word: the twists and turns the journey has taken me on, the fellowship, the loneliness, the sensations of being lost and then found, or found and then lost, the joys and regrets, the friendships made and the friends lost. There were present all the prayers I would ever say, and the few of them that have been truly prayerful. Even all the sins I have committed since that moment were present in my baptism in a certain way. For, as I'll never forget, I once asked a spiritual director where God was when I was sinning. And he looked at me like I was the sad, ignorant case that I am and said, "He's on the Cross, suffering with you."
In the double-moment of my religious profession, first on a Saturday Morning in Yonkers, New York, and then, four years later, on another one in Middletown, Connecticut, my whole life as a Capuchin friar was present, my joy at receiving the mercy of this vocation and the salvation God has worked for me through it, my struggles to know how to observe the Rule I have promised, the burning desire for obedience, poverty, and chastity God has put in me set against the shallowness of my efforts to put them into practice. In that moment were all the joys and consolation I have had from brothers who have been true brother to me, as well as the injuries I bear from those who have hurt me. And there are all of my meager attempts to be brother to the brothers the Lord has given me, and all my failures to live up that simple title. And there is so much more, all of it every way that my whole experiment of finding myself in this journey of Christianity has come to be inextricably woven together with the example and words of St. Francis of Assisi.
In my ordination to the priesthood, in that moment when Seán O'Malley laid his hands on my head, anointed my hands, and prayed over me the prayer of consecration, everything my priesthood has been was present. There were the infinite graces of each Mass I have ever offered, there was whatever truth and encouragement the Holy Spirit was ever able to give to God's people through my small efforts at being a diligent preacher, there was the privilege of hearing every confession I've ever heard, as well as the awesome, saving healing of every absolution I have ever given, the forgiveness of God--stronger than sin and death--given from Jesus Christ to St. Peter and then passed down through the hands of so many and finally into the unworthy, dingy vessel of my voice.
I realize that I stand on those moments, and that whatever else should become of me as a Christian, as a religious, and as a priest, from right now, on this rainy Sunday afternoon until I should die, sooner or later, flows from them and, in a sense, is those moments. And I think this is what we mean when we talk about things as sacraments.
I arrived at such a confession through recalling a reflection on faith I used to have from time to time when I was working in the parish. A certain collection of circumstances led me to have, during the middle set of my three springs and summers as a parish priest, a lot of weddings. I think there was a spell of fourteen weeks, if I remember rightly, during which I had at least one every weekend. So that meant a weekly rhythm of rehearsals and wedding liturgies themselves, not to mention many last-minute phone calls from anxious brides and a few near-misses with paperwork arriving from other dioceses. So during this time, as a result of reflecting on what I could say for wedding homilies, shtick for rehearsals, and little catecheses for meetings, I had a lot of opportunity to reflect on what marriage might mean as an act of worship and faith. And it was just this that began to strike me, that a marriage was an expression of faith. In giving themselves to each other precisely as sacrament, what the couple were proclaiming to the Church and to the world was their faith that what they had found in each other was going to be stronger, more important, and more durable than a future that they didn't and couldn't know. It was to say that the goodness of the Creator had come to be reflected in their union, that they had found in each other the original blessing--a blessing not forfeited by original sin nor washed away by the flood, as one of the nuptial blessings puts it--that was the gaze of God upon his creation when he knew it to be good. God is love, and so to be in love always touches upon God and his eternity, which is why lovers always say, 'forever',whether they know what they are saying or not. The experience itself demands the closest imitation we have of God's eternity, our total self-giving, our unqualified 'forever.'
So in my own reflection for myself today, I find something similar. If I really believe in sacrament and it what the Church means by public vows, I too have to know that there was more faithfulness present in my baptism, religious profession, and ordination than a 'faith' that I could have been aware of in my own subjective desire or fervor or relative lack thereof at those moments. This is because our 'faith' isn't about how we feel or even how we think, in the sense of the depth of our intellectual assent to the articles of the faith, but about our willingness to let the faithfulness of Jesus Christ make a home within us, both for our own salvation and for that of others as it may please the Holy Spirit to work it through us.
May you attain full knowledge of God's will through perfect wisdom and spiritual insight. Then you will lead a life worthy of the Lord and pleasing to him in every way. You will multiply good works of every sort and grow in the knowledge of God. By the might of his glory you will be endowed with the strength needed to stand fast, even to endure joyfully whatever may come. (Colossians 1:9b-11, reading for Evening Prayer, Monday of Week I)
*"Mauds" is the name I give to the liturgy that results from combining Morning Prayer with Mass, as a portmanteau of 'Mass' and 'Lauds.' For more information see my post, "On the Various Forms of Prass."
June 8, 2012
Mormoni Riformati
So, as I am discovering: having learned a few words of Italian puts me in a far more strenuous situation than I enjoyed in my near-complete ignorance. This is because I get into conversations but don't know how to proceed. Here's a good example:
One of the friars came to supper with a piece of mail in English, an example of a sort of thing he had been receiving regularly from time to time. He wanted to know what it was and what he was supposed to do about it. Having me here provided him with the opportunity to discover the nature of these communications he had been receiving.
After much effort, I managed to explain that it was a fund-raising letter from some splinter Mormon group. (During this conversation I arrived at the term Mormoni Riformati, of which I was very proud on account of its Franciscan resonances.) I explained that these folks would like it if Father would kindly send them some money. He seemed relieved to hear something that freed him to dismiss the communication.
However, other friars had now become involved in the conversation, and the question of polygamy came up. They wanted to know why, if Mitt Romney was a Mormon, he didn't have more than one wife, etc. Without my help, which was useless anyway, they decided that he was a serious businessman and politician, and probably didn't have time for more than one wife. Luckily for me, before I could make an attempt at recounting Mormon history, the conversation turned more abstract and began to revolve around the assertion that polygamy sounded like a nice idea, but that one could adduce plenty of biblical evidence that it had its own particular stresses and difficulties.
One of the friars came to supper with a piece of mail in English, an example of a sort of thing he had been receiving regularly from time to time. He wanted to know what it was and what he was supposed to do about it. Having me here provided him with the opportunity to discover the nature of these communications he had been receiving.
After much effort, I managed to explain that it was a fund-raising letter from some splinter Mormon group. (During this conversation I arrived at the term Mormoni Riformati, of which I was very proud on account of its Franciscan resonances.) I explained that these folks would like it if Father would kindly send them some money. He seemed relieved to hear something that freed him to dismiss the communication.
However, other friars had now become involved in the conversation, and the question of polygamy came up. They wanted to know why, if Mitt Romney was a Mormon, he didn't have more than one wife, etc. Without my help, which was useless anyway, they decided that he was a serious businessman and politician, and probably didn't have time for more than one wife. Luckily for me, before I could make an attempt at recounting Mormon history, the conversation turned more abstract and began to revolve around the assertion that polygamy sounded like a nice idea, but that one could adduce plenty of biblical evidence that it had its own particular stresses and difficulties.
April 29, 2011
On Missing Weddings
The marriage of William and Kate this morning had me thinking about weddings. Not that I watched it. In this regard, at least, I'm a real American; many of my forebears gave their lives in the Revolution so that I wouldn't have to care about royalty, and I appreciate the opportunity to respect their memory. On the other hand, of course I wish the newlyweds well. I hope that the idea of being queen one day balances the sufferings Kate will surely have; if it's one thing I've learned from doing marriage preparation and a little bit of couples counseling, it's that men carry their relationships with their mothers into their marriages, and I can't imagine that Will doesn't have some issues around the injustices of his mother's life and especially her untimely death.
Nevertheless, as we roll into this first wave of wedding season since I've been out of the parish, the whole business makes me realize that I miss them a little bit.
Of course there are many things I don't miss at all: nagging kids for baptismal certificates, trying to inspire them to seek and work for Confirmation before the marriage, losing time because of tardy rehearsals, discovering conditions attached to annulments at the last minute, dealing by phone with priests in other dioceses who need to tell me their whole 'theology of marriage' when all I need is assurance that documents will be sent, anxiously awaiting paperwork to arrive from the chancery on the last postal day before the wedding is supposed to happen, and managing and trying to limit the creeping featurism of unity candles, flower processions to the altar of the Blessed Mother, bell-ringing, sand mixing, processions that include dogs, cheesy bonus prayers, etc.
All of that little stuff aside, I still miss weddings. In the course of three years as a parish priest, I witnessed 26 marriages, and prepared several more to be witnessed by others. Praying for these folks--and I still do--I came to see their vocations as intensely encouraging and edifying.
Is it not remarkable that in this world with all of its violence, hopelessness, meaninglessness, and disregard for life, people still insist on falling in love with each other? Love, after all, is a maximally optimistic disposition of soul, which knows the presence and company of another as intrinsically worthwhile.
Love, in practice, is a sort of faith. Once in a while I see where a couple of kids have proclaimed their love in a piece of graffiti. "So-and-so and so-and-so, together for ever," it usually goes. How is it that a couple of kids, who know nothing of what 'for ever' means, much less eternity, can make such a claim? This dissonance is exactly the point. Love is the ordinary way that our souls imitate God and come into contact with the Mystery of Creativity and Hospitality that is the Ground and Source of all existence. To be in love, then, pushes the heart to a response that imitates this eternity in the best way it can in our temporal state, and this to say, 'for ever,' even though we might hardly know what it means.
That's why the love proclaimed in marriage is to me an awe-inspiring act of faith. A man and a woman proclaim to the world that what they have found in each other is so good and so powerful that they are willing to wager it against an unknown future. Whatever the future holds, they say, couldn't possibly overwhelm the Love that they have found. That's faith, and one of the most genuine confessions of God I have been privileged to encounter with some regularity. To find God is to know, even if we know obliquely or obscurely, that we have been found by Someone for whom nothing could be greater, and this is why engaged couples can get up and proclaim perpetual fidelity against an unknown future.
Nevertheless, as we roll into this first wave of wedding season since I've been out of the parish, the whole business makes me realize that I miss them a little bit.
Of course there are many things I don't miss at all: nagging kids for baptismal certificates, trying to inspire them to seek and work for Confirmation before the marriage, losing time because of tardy rehearsals, discovering conditions attached to annulments at the last minute, dealing by phone with priests in other dioceses who need to tell me their whole 'theology of marriage' when all I need is assurance that documents will be sent, anxiously awaiting paperwork to arrive from the chancery on the last postal day before the wedding is supposed to happen, and managing and trying to limit the creeping featurism of unity candles, flower processions to the altar of the Blessed Mother, bell-ringing, sand mixing, processions that include dogs, cheesy bonus prayers, etc.
All of that little stuff aside, I still miss weddings. In the course of three years as a parish priest, I witnessed 26 marriages, and prepared several more to be witnessed by others. Praying for these folks--and I still do--I came to see their vocations as intensely encouraging and edifying.
Is it not remarkable that in this world with all of its violence, hopelessness, meaninglessness, and disregard for life, people still insist on falling in love with each other? Love, after all, is a maximally optimistic disposition of soul, which knows the presence and company of another as intrinsically worthwhile.
Love, in practice, is a sort of faith. Once in a while I see where a couple of kids have proclaimed their love in a piece of graffiti. "So-and-so and so-and-so, together for ever," it usually goes. How is it that a couple of kids, who know nothing of what 'for ever' means, much less eternity, can make such a claim? This dissonance is exactly the point. Love is the ordinary way that our souls imitate God and come into contact with the Mystery of Creativity and Hospitality that is the Ground and Source of all existence. To be in love, then, pushes the heart to a response that imitates this eternity in the best way it can in our temporal state, and this to say, 'for ever,' even though we might hardly know what it means.
That's why the love proclaimed in marriage is to me an awe-inspiring act of faith. A man and a woman proclaim to the world that what they have found in each other is so good and so powerful that they are willing to wager it against an unknown future. Whatever the future holds, they say, couldn't possibly overwhelm the Love that they have found. That's faith, and one of the most genuine confessions of God I have been privileged to encounter with some regularity. To find God is to know, even if we know obliquely or obscurely, that we have been found by Someone for whom nothing could be greater, and this is why engaged couples can get up and proclaim perpetual fidelity against an unknown future.
July 9, 2010
The Original Blessing
Yesterday I spent some time with a couple of friends whom I've known since elementary school. Both have families now. The one whose home we were visiting has two children: the older one is a rambunctious toddler and the younger is only five months old. Almost every space in their home is overtaken with child related stuff and the atmosphere is generally chaotic. They are very happy. It's interesting to see people with whom you grew up, both friends and family, as parents themselves. They are the same people, of course, but are somehow transformed. They are renovated by the original blessing God pronounced on our first parents: "Be fruitful." The original blessing is on all of us, because we all derive from the compound marriage of the will of God and the bodies of Adam and Eve.
Perhaps it's when we forget about all this that we celibates get ourselves into trouble. Marriage is an option, but generativity is not. If we do not care for our spiritual lives and cultivate our own re-creation in God, we will be sterile, unable to conceive spiritual children. If we lose our missionary edge, the command of the Lord to make disciples of all nations, we can easily turn in on ourselves in eccentricity, comfort-seeking, and entitlement. All of these are disaster for the celibate soul, which is why we always need to remember that our vocations are not given to us for ourselves, but for the sake of those to whom God wishes to give us as spiritual mothers and fathers. Here the chaotic house filled with toys and childcare equipment is a good reflection for the celibate. Am I willing to surrender every space in my life to God, or do I hold back certain areas for myself?
Perhaps it's when we forget about all this that we celibates get ourselves into trouble. Marriage is an option, but generativity is not. If we do not care for our spiritual lives and cultivate our own re-creation in God, we will be sterile, unable to conceive spiritual children. If we lose our missionary edge, the command of the Lord to make disciples of all nations, we can easily turn in on ourselves in eccentricity, comfort-seeking, and entitlement. All of these are disaster for the celibate soul, which is why we always need to remember that our vocations are not given to us for ourselves, but for the sake of those to whom God wishes to give us as spiritual mothers and fathers. Here the chaotic house filled with toys and childcare equipment is a good reflection for the celibate. Am I willing to surrender every space in my life to God, or do I hold back certain areas for myself?
June 7, 2010
My Last Wedding
On Saturday I did my last wedding here at the parish. As I was cleaning up from the ceremony, I got a little emotional for a moment; I think it was the beginning of my grieving for my assignment coming to an end.
In my three years as a parish priest, I have witnessed twenty-six marriages, and prepared about five more that were witnessed by guest clergy. It's been a big part of my life. At one point marriage preparation envelopes were the largest single thing in my office file drawer. In the middle of my time here I had seventeen couples on my checklist spreadsheet for paperwork and stages of the process. Now the spreadsheet is empty. No more calls to check in and remind brides about paperwork or evenings in the parlor reviewing the "FOCCUS" instrument.
I'm very grateful for having had the opportunity to work with all of these folks, and for the privilege of witnessing their mutual offering to one another in the sacrament of marriage. Preaching at weddings has helped me to understand certain things more clearly, truths that apply just as much to the vows of religious consecration.
When you begin to touch the very eternity of God, whether by falling in love with another human being or by the prayerful solitude in which a call to celibate consecration begins to emerge, that very eternity demands a commensurate response. The only imitation that will satisfy in this life is to say "forever." This is why love pushes us into permanent commitment; it's the least we can do, the least that will satisfy us. It's why two kids who know nothing of permanence and much less of eternity can write 'together for ever' on the wall; they have experienced the love that is God himself translated into our experience, and God's eternity pushes them to say such a thing even though they don't even know what it means.
Our freedom does not consist in preserving the false liberty of always keeping our options open, wandering through life and refusing to land, but in the freedom to dispose of ourselves fully and completely. Of course I knew this before on the cognitive, theological level, but those whose marriages I have witnessed over the past three years have taught it to me at the deeper level of the heart. Thank you.
In my three years as a parish priest, I have witnessed twenty-six marriages, and prepared about five more that were witnessed by guest clergy. It's been a big part of my life. At one point marriage preparation envelopes were the largest single thing in my office file drawer. In the middle of my time here I had seventeen couples on my checklist spreadsheet for paperwork and stages of the process. Now the spreadsheet is empty. No more calls to check in and remind brides about paperwork or evenings in the parlor reviewing the "FOCCUS" instrument.
I'm very grateful for having had the opportunity to work with all of these folks, and for the privilege of witnessing their mutual offering to one another in the sacrament of marriage. Preaching at weddings has helped me to understand certain things more clearly, truths that apply just as much to the vows of religious consecration.
When you begin to touch the very eternity of God, whether by falling in love with another human being or by the prayerful solitude in which a call to celibate consecration begins to emerge, that very eternity demands a commensurate response. The only imitation that will satisfy in this life is to say "forever." This is why love pushes us into permanent commitment; it's the least we can do, the least that will satisfy us. It's why two kids who know nothing of permanence and much less of eternity can write 'together for ever' on the wall; they have experienced the love that is God himself translated into our experience, and God's eternity pushes them to say such a thing even though they don't even know what it means.
Our freedom does not consist in preserving the false liberty of always keeping our options open, wandering through life and refusing to land, but in the freedom to dispose of ourselves fully and completely. Of course I knew this before on the cognitive, theological level, but those whose marriages I have witnessed over the past three years have taught it to me at the deeper level of the heart. Thank you.
March 19, 2010
My Grace is Sufficient
Preaching on St. Joseph, Bernardine of Siena comes to us in the Office of Readings today:
This is a beautiful and important teaching. Hearing something like it when I was in an early spiritual impasse helped me to shift my understanding and keep going. The teaching implies that the spiritual life is not about effort, but consent. We don't have to reach up and squeeze grace out of some stingy deity. All the graces we need are there; it is only our inability to let go and accept them that holds us back from sanctity.
I often mention this teaching to the couples I am preparing for marriage. They have been given each other as a special and unrepeatable vocation in the world. Unfortunately, it is a vocation without a high success rate. They need to believe that all the graces they need to succeed are there for them, if they only stay close to the God who delights to join them as one.
There is a general rule concerning all special graces granted to any human being. Whenever the divine favor chooses someone to receive a special grace, or to accept a lofty vocation, God adorns the person chosen with all the gifts of the Spirit (omnia charismata donat) needed to fulfill the task at hand.
This is a beautiful and important teaching. Hearing something like it when I was in an early spiritual impasse helped me to shift my understanding and keep going. The teaching implies that the spiritual life is not about effort, but consent. We don't have to reach up and squeeze grace out of some stingy deity. All the graces we need are there; it is only our inability to let go and accept them that holds us back from sanctity.
I often mention this teaching to the couples I am preparing for marriage. They have been given each other as a special and unrepeatable vocation in the world. Unfortunately, it is a vocation without a high success rate. They need to believe that all the graces they need to succeed are there for them, if they only stay close to the God who delights to join them as one.
January 5, 2010
Question to Readers
Has anyone ever heard of or participated in some kind of parish program, workshop or anything like that to try to get irregular marital situations addressed in a friendly and pastoral way?
I'm tired to feeling like a burden preparing Pharisee when I have to tell people that they are ineligible for sacramental sponsorship, etc., because of their irregular marriages.
I'm tired to feeling like a burden preparing Pharisee when I have to tell people that they are ineligible for sacramental sponsorship, etc., because of their irregular marriages.
December 26, 2009
Priesthood Fail
One thing that really gets me is when someone is evaluated or judged on criteria that have not been articulated or previously agreed upon. It just seems so unjust to me. But am I also guilty, in a way? Here's what I'm thinking about:
One of the most unpleasant duties of my employment as parish priest is when I have to thwart what folks want to do. A couple of examples will illustrate what I'm talking about. Many times in the course of my ministry I have the singularly rotten duty of trying to explain to the recently bereaved that if they choose to cremate their dead, they are still obligated to bury or entomb the remains. Cremated remains are due the same respect, and are to be handled in the same way as a body. On the other side of life, I often have to tell new parents that the persons they have chosen as their child's godparents are ineligible for the role, either because they have not completed their own sacramental initiation, are not (yet) seeking convalidation for marriages contracted outside of canonical form, or are simulating marriage through cohabitation.
To these, and many other similarly combative assertions I have to make, I often receive the very annoyed answer, 'Well, I never heard of that.'
Now I'm not forgiving the voluntary ignorance of Catholics who have not made any effort to be informed about the faith. But have I been complicit with it?
How often have I tried to stir up the eagerness of adults to complete their sacramental initiation through Confirmation? Have I preached that eligibility for joys like sacramental sponsorship presupposes it?
How often have I preached on the expectations of Catholics with regard to marriage? How often have I preached against cohabitation or getting married at city hall? And if I have not preached on the meaning of marriage, should I be surprised when Catholics have such an impoverished sense of what marriage is that they don't automatically see through this nonsense about same-sex marriage being some kind of 'civil right'?
How often have I preached--apart from funerals themselves--on the meaning of Christian death and the destiny of the physical body?
Have I preached against the crime of abortion? Even though the warnings of Humanae vitae have turned out to be uncannily prophetic, am I still afraid to preach against artificial birth control and other so-called 'reproductive technologies' that deny the dignity of the human person?
I say all this because I don't think I've done it, nor is it my experience that priests tend to preach on such things. Most priests want to be nice, so we don't preach in such a way as to make demands, or tell people what they have to do. But if I don't do these things, should I be surprised when folks say, 'Well, I never heard of that.'? If they have never heard of some Catholic teaching or ordinary expectation of Catholic life, it's my fault, and I can expect to be held accountable for it at my judgment, at least in part.
It's not fair for me to call people on their ignorance if I have refused to be their teacher.
May God help me to live up to Presbyterorum ordinis 6:
One of the most unpleasant duties of my employment as parish priest is when I have to thwart what folks want to do. A couple of examples will illustrate what I'm talking about. Many times in the course of my ministry I have the singularly rotten duty of trying to explain to the recently bereaved that if they choose to cremate their dead, they are still obligated to bury or entomb the remains. Cremated remains are due the same respect, and are to be handled in the same way as a body. On the other side of life, I often have to tell new parents that the persons they have chosen as their child's godparents are ineligible for the role, either because they have not completed their own sacramental initiation, are not (yet) seeking convalidation for marriages contracted outside of canonical form, or are simulating marriage through cohabitation.
To these, and many other similarly combative assertions I have to make, I often receive the very annoyed answer, 'Well, I never heard of that.'
Now I'm not forgiving the voluntary ignorance of Catholics who have not made any effort to be informed about the faith. But have I been complicit with it?
How often have I tried to stir up the eagerness of adults to complete their sacramental initiation through Confirmation? Have I preached that eligibility for joys like sacramental sponsorship presupposes it?
How often have I preached on the expectations of Catholics with regard to marriage? How often have I preached against cohabitation or getting married at city hall? And if I have not preached on the meaning of marriage, should I be surprised when Catholics have such an impoverished sense of what marriage is that they don't automatically see through this nonsense about same-sex marriage being some kind of 'civil right'?
How often have I preached--apart from funerals themselves--on the meaning of Christian death and the destiny of the physical body?
Have I preached against the crime of abortion? Even though the warnings of Humanae vitae have turned out to be uncannily prophetic, am I still afraid to preach against artificial birth control and other so-called 'reproductive technologies' that deny the dignity of the human person?
I say all this because I don't think I've done it, nor is it my experience that priests tend to preach on such things. Most priests want to be nice, so we don't preach in such a way as to make demands, or tell people what they have to do. But if I don't do these things, should I be surprised when folks say, 'Well, I never heard of that.'? If they have never heard of some Catholic teaching or ordinary expectation of Catholic life, it's my fault, and I can expect to be held accountable for it at my judgment, at least in part.
It's not fair for me to call people on their ignorance if I have refused to be their teacher.
May God help me to live up to Presbyterorum ordinis 6:
Priests therefore, as educators in the faith, must see to it either by themselves or through others that the faithful are led individually in the Holy Spirit to a development of their own vocation according to the Gospel, to a sincere and practical charity, and to that freedom with which Christ has made us free. Ceremonies however beautiful, or associations however flourishing, will be of little value if they are not directed toward the education of men to Christian maturity. In furthering this, priests should help men to see what is required and what is God's will in the important and unimportant events of life. Also, Christians should be taught that they live not only for themselves, but, according to the demands of the new law of charity; as every man has received grace, he must administer the same to others. In this way, all will discharge in a Christian manner their duties in the community of men.
September 30, 2009
Names of Brides
As I have revealed in some past posts, I am always fascinated by the distribution of proper names in the populations I serve. For example, in performing infant baptisms, one gets a look into the names people are giving their babies.
In the ministry of marriage preparation one gets to see how people one generation removed from those babies were named. On my chart of weddings in production, I notice that nearly half (44%) of upcoming brides are named either Danielle or Amanda. Eccentric and verbose as I am, I have a special fondness for girls who have gerundives for names. No Mirandas yet.
The men reveal no pattern. In fact, there are no two with the same name.
In the ministry of marriage preparation one gets to see how people one generation removed from those babies were named. On my chart of weddings in production, I notice that nearly half (44%) of upcoming brides are named either Danielle or Amanda. Eccentric and verbose as I am, I have a special fondness for girls who have gerundives for names. No Mirandas yet.
The men reveal no pattern. In fact, there are no two with the same name.
September 24, 2009
Godparents and Marriage Poll
One of the real surprises of my experience of priesthood is the ministry of infant baptism. I had imagined that this would be an enjoyable and lighthearted part of the job. Instead, it is one of the aspects of the parish ministry that I look forward to the least and contains the most headaches. Mostly it's about trying to help parents choose appropriate sponsors, i.e. godparents. Many parents seem to try to elect godparents based on their personal and familial allegiances, rather than on the criteria held up by the Church. This wouldn't be a problem in a world where the average Catholic practiced the faith, but unfortunately we find ourselves in the opposite situation.
So one of my routine and most dreaded jobs is the disqualification of proposed godparents, because they have not received Confirmation, are not even Christians ("...but Father, Muslims love Jesus and Mary!" or, "but Father, we Jews know a lot about keeping tradition!") or are simply not practicing the faith and have no intention of taking it up. The canned line I have developed is, "You can't sponsor someone for a journey that are not making yourself."
Nevertheless, I have encountered gray areas. One of them is marital status. What about someone who is otherwise eligible to be a godparent, but who has failed in their obligation to marry according to canonical form, i.e. someone who is married, but "outside the church." Canon law does not address this explicitly, but just says that an eligible sponsor should be living a life of faith in harmony with the sacraments they have received, and be able to give good example. Does this "harmony" and "good example" extend to marrying according to canonical form, i.e. "in church"?
I think that many priests practice a kind of 'don't ask, don't tell' with this sort of thing, and maybe that's why it seems like a gray area: "..but Father, my wife was a godparent for so-and-so, so why am I disqualified?"
So what do you think?
Can a Catholic who is married, but not according to canonical form (and not actively seeking convalidation) be admitted to the role of sponsor for baptism?
So one of my routine and most dreaded jobs is the disqualification of proposed godparents, because they have not received Confirmation, are not even Christians ("...but Father, Muslims love Jesus and Mary!" or, "but Father, we Jews know a lot about keeping tradition!") or are simply not practicing the faith and have no intention of taking it up. The canned line I have developed is, "You can't sponsor someone for a journey that are not making yourself."
Nevertheless, I have encountered gray areas. One of them is marital status. What about someone who is otherwise eligible to be a godparent, but who has failed in their obligation to marry according to canonical form, i.e. someone who is married, but "outside the church." Canon law does not address this explicitly, but just says that an eligible sponsor should be living a life of faith in harmony with the sacraments they have received, and be able to give good example. Does this "harmony" and "good example" extend to marrying according to canonical form, i.e. "in church"?
I think that many priests practice a kind of 'don't ask, don't tell' with this sort of thing, and maybe that's why it seems like a gray area: "..but Father, my wife was a godparent for so-and-so, so why am I disqualified?"
So what do you think?
Can a Catholic who is married, but not according to canonical form (and not actively seeking convalidation) be admitted to the role of sponsor for baptism?
September 8, 2009
Two Years of Priesthood: Stats
I know this is silly and a little irreverent, but I thought it would be interesting. After two years in the priesthood, here are my stats:
Baptisms: 42
Confirmations: 1
Marriages witnessed: 19
Priests on whom I have laid hands at their ordination: 3
Committals: 54
Δ for the Church Militant under my watch (baptisms less committals): -12 :(
Grace and gratitude: overwhelming and endless, respectively.
Worthiness: Less each day.
Baptisms: 42
Confirmations: 1
Marriages witnessed: 19
Priests on whom I have laid hands at their ordination: 3
Committals: 54
Δ for the Church Militant under my watch (baptisms less committals): -12 :(
Grace and gratitude: overwhelming and endless, respectively.
Worthiness: Less each day.
June 22, 2009
Coming Late and Leaving Early
It's wedding season, and I have a marriage to witness every weekend from now until the end of August. This past Saturday's was about as easy is could be: just the ceremony (no Mass), no dreaded "unity candle," no procession to Our Lady's Altar to offer her flowers, no other bonus features.
In fact, the wedding was especially short, because the couple left before it was over!
For the marriage rite outside of Mass, the intercessions are folded into the Nuptial Blessing, which begins after the blessing and giving of rings. So, I had this couple offer each other their consent, which they did quite beautifully, I have to say, blessed their rings and had them put them on. Then there was an applause for the newly married couple.
I looked down at my ritual to page up the Nuptial Blessing, but when I looked up, the couple was already walking down the aisle. I looked up to the choir loft and saw the organist shrugging his shoulders and wondering what to do. I motioned to him to start playing the recessional. I guessed that the marriage was valid (help me out canonist readers!) and not wanting to mess up their video, I let them go.
In fact, the wedding was especially short, because the couple left before it was over!
For the marriage rite outside of Mass, the intercessions are folded into the Nuptial Blessing, which begins after the blessing and giving of rings. So, I had this couple offer each other their consent, which they did quite beautifully, I have to say, blessed their rings and had them put them on. Then there was an applause for the newly married couple.
I looked down at my ritual to page up the Nuptial Blessing, but when I looked up, the couple was already walking down the aisle. I looked up to the choir loft and saw the organist shrugging his shoulders and wondering what to do. I motioned to him to start playing the recessional. I guessed that the marriage was valid (help me out canonist readers!) and not wanting to mess up their video, I let them go.
July 13, 2008
Ecumenical Moment
We had a real ecumenical afternoon here in our parish. A Melkite rite Catholic man who is an alumnus of our parish high school married an Orthodox woman in our Latin rite church. A bi-ritual Catholic priest led the ceremony. It's our parish policy to allow alumni to have their weddings here, even if they've moved away or aren't parishioners.
I was surprised to discover that with the permission of our pastor (for inter-rituality) and a dispensation from the Melkite bishop (for the man to marry an Orthodox), all of this is entirely possible. Since neither party is a Roman Catholic, however, we have no jurisdiction in their case and their marriage will not appear in our records.
It was really something to watch with all of the Eastern liturgical elements and chanting in Arabic going on under our image of St. Margaret Mary!
I was surprised to discover that with the permission of our pastor (for inter-rituality) and a dispensation from the Melkite bishop (for the man to marry an Orthodox), all of this is entirely possible. Since neither party is a Roman Catholic, however, we have no jurisdiction in their case and their marriage will not appear in our records.
It was really something to watch with all of the Eastern liturgical elements and chanting in Arabic going on under our image of St. Margaret Mary!
July 9, 2008
Note to Men: Get Married
In the parish where I work we average just over a hundred funerals a year. So I've had a lot of experience with wakes, funerals, and committals in the year I've been here. I've made a lot of observations in the course of this, but here's one of the most striking: there is, generally, a remarkable difference between the funeral of an old maid and that of an old bachelor.
Now I'm no sociologist, and I don't know any real statistics, but it seems to me in my anecdotal experience that old maids live just as long as their married sisters. What's more, they seem to have just as many friends and associates who show up for their wakes and funerals.
It ain't so with old bachelors. They seem to die younger than their married brothers. They also usually have many fewer people show up for their wakes and funerals.
If I may wildly and irresponsibly extrapolate from my experience, it seems that for men, staying single is bad for you. For women, it doesn't seem to make much difference.
Anybody who really knows anything care to correct or corroborate my conclusions?
Now I'm no sociologist, and I don't know any real statistics, but it seems to me in my anecdotal experience that old maids live just as long as their married sisters. What's more, they seem to have just as many friends and associates who show up for their wakes and funerals.
It ain't so with old bachelors. They seem to die younger than their married brothers. They also usually have many fewer people show up for their wakes and funerals.
If I may wildly and irresponsibly extrapolate from my experience, it seems that for men, staying single is bad for you. For women, it doesn't seem to make much difference.
Anybody who really knows anything care to correct or corroborate my conclusions?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)