As of today I have completed three years in my assignment here in the parish. The triennium is a standard unit of obedience for us, and indeed, I am beginning my transition into my next big thing.
Here are my 'stats' after three years in the parish:
Baptisms: 50
Marriages witnessed: 25
Funerals: 68
I don't know what it means, if anything, but it's interesting to note to the congruence between the baptisms and the weddings (since weddings count for two persons.)
Unfortunately, the Church Militant has decreased by 18 under my watch, or about 26%. (baptisms less funerals)
May 31, 2010
May 30, 2010
The Idea of Being On Time
In the ministry we are taught that we need to be aware of our own assumptions about things. One of my own that I have to revise is my concept of being 'on time.'
For whatever reason or combination of factors, I came into this world with the following idea of what it meant to be on time:
If an event is to occur at time t, then you arrive at the location of the event at time t - n, where n is the time it takes to be ready for the event to begin. For example, if I had a class at 10 am, I would try to arrive by 9:55 at the latest, so as to have time to take out my textbook, find my pencil, etc. Thus, I would be all set to have the class begin at 10. If I arrived for the 10 am class at 10 am, I would not consider myself to be on time, because I would have not prepared myself and my things for paying attention and participation.
I have come to realize that this is a minority opinion; for most people, it seems that being on time means showing up at time t. This means, of course, that the event in question can't actually start until t + n. To me this seems like starting late, but this feeling is not shared by everybody.
And there are other concepts besides. One Sunday I had a baptism service at 2 pm. It was the last service of the day. I prayed with the folks, preached briefly, and baptized their child. It took about twenty minutes. Then I cleaned up, filed the paperwork in the parish office, changed my clothes, and decided to go out for a walk. I went out through the church because I had not yet said Daytime Prayer. When I walked out of the church it was about ten minutes to three. Some folks were coming in. Perplexed to see nothing going on, they asked me about a baptism service that was supposed to have happened at two. "The service takes an hour, so we are still on time," they said. To them the concept of being on time meant showing up anytime before the end of the event!
I say all this not to rehearse stereotypes or indulge in idle reflection, but to say that I now understand why priests arrive late for things. I used to find this to be one of the most irritating characteristics of the clergy, but now I understand. After three years in the parish ministry (as of tomorrow), I wouldn't even think of showing up for a wedding rehearsal until at least a few minutes past the scheduled time. The same goes, with a little less force, for wakes and meetings and appointments in general. You're going to have wait for people anyway, so why give them permission to waste your time?
Good boundaries in ministry, as in life, often consist in noticing and avoiding the subtle ways we needlessly give other people control over our feelings, time, and opportunity.
So I try not to judge people on things that I might later understand or even do myself.
For whatever reason or combination of factors, I came into this world with the following idea of what it meant to be on time:
If an event is to occur at time t, then you arrive at the location of the event at time t - n, where n is the time it takes to be ready for the event to begin. For example, if I had a class at 10 am, I would try to arrive by 9:55 at the latest, so as to have time to take out my textbook, find my pencil, etc. Thus, I would be all set to have the class begin at 10. If I arrived for the 10 am class at 10 am, I would not consider myself to be on time, because I would have not prepared myself and my things for paying attention and participation.
I have come to realize that this is a minority opinion; for most people, it seems that being on time means showing up at time t. This means, of course, that the event in question can't actually start until t + n. To me this seems like starting late, but this feeling is not shared by everybody.
And there are other concepts besides. One Sunday I had a baptism service at 2 pm. It was the last service of the day. I prayed with the folks, preached briefly, and baptized their child. It took about twenty minutes. Then I cleaned up, filed the paperwork in the parish office, changed my clothes, and decided to go out for a walk. I went out through the church because I had not yet said Daytime Prayer. When I walked out of the church it was about ten minutes to three. Some folks were coming in. Perplexed to see nothing going on, they asked me about a baptism service that was supposed to have happened at two. "The service takes an hour, so we are still on time," they said. To them the concept of being on time meant showing up anytime before the end of the event!
I say all this not to rehearse stereotypes or indulge in idle reflection, but to say that I now understand why priests arrive late for things. I used to find this to be one of the most irritating characteristics of the clergy, but now I understand. After three years in the parish ministry (as of tomorrow), I wouldn't even think of showing up for a wedding rehearsal until at least a few minutes past the scheduled time. The same goes, with a little less force, for wakes and meetings and appointments in general. You're going to have wait for people anyway, so why give them permission to waste your time?
Good boundaries in ministry, as in life, often consist in noticing and avoiding the subtle ways we needlessly give other people control over our feelings, time, and opportunity.
So I try not to judge people on things that I might later understand or even do myself.
May 29, 2010
The Most Holy Trinity
This weekend's homily contains an interpolation of the previously published rant on the same topic. Follow this link to check it out.
May 28, 2010
Theses on Blame and Merit in Community
(This is a collection in development.)
If a brother piously declines to have something assigned to him for personal use (e.g. a car, computer, cell phone, etc.) under the title of holy poverty and simplicity of life, but then needs to borrow the same thing from another brother when he needs it, it is actually the latter brother who is practicing the higher degree of charity and evangelical poverty.
If a brother carelessly picks up and walks away with your breviary, and you cannot then pray the next canonical hour properly on account of it, it is the first brother who incurs the guilt of the sin.
If someone is being passive-aggressive toward you, it might be because you have failed to make him feel safe enough to do or say something openly.
Emptying the dishwasher is always a righteous act, even when grumbled about. Leaving near-empty containers in the refrigerator or the cupboard is always condemnable, even when done with bemusement.
Names are written on leftovers not to claim them, but to warn potential snackers about who has already touched them.
People given their voice and freedom will not always want what you think they should.
If you never let another brother help you or do anything for you, you deny him his opportunity for holiness through charity.
If a brother piously declines to have something assigned to him for personal use (e.g. a car, computer, cell phone, etc.) under the title of holy poverty and simplicity of life, but then needs to borrow the same thing from another brother when he needs it, it is actually the latter brother who is practicing the higher degree of charity and evangelical poverty.
If a brother carelessly picks up and walks away with your breviary, and you cannot then pray the next canonical hour properly on account of it, it is the first brother who incurs the guilt of the sin.
If someone is being passive-aggressive toward you, it might be because you have failed to make him feel safe enough to do or say something openly.
Emptying the dishwasher is always a righteous act, even when grumbled about. Leaving near-empty containers in the refrigerator or the cupboard is always condemnable, even when done with bemusement.
Names are written on leftovers not to claim them, but to warn potential snackers about who has already touched them.
People given their voice and freedom will not always want what you think they should.
If you never let another brother help you or do anything for you, you deny him his opportunity for holiness through charity.
Using Eucharistic Prayer I
An old entry on my own practice as a suggestion for priests' minimum use of Eucharistic Prayer I has turned out to be a popular post for search traffic. At that time I described my practice in this way:
Well, lately I have made an adjustment. I have included nuptial Masses among those for which I use Eucharistic Prayer I, because of the proper Hanc Igitur. It's not found on the bottom of the page like the others, though, so you have to do a little sacramentary hacking:
I'm very proud of my rubric-red paperclip. I'm such a geek.
Check out the original post here.
Here's the plan I have adopted for the use of Eucharistic Prayer I, the Roman Canon. I use Eucharistic Prayer I:
1. On any day for which it provides proper Communicantes and/or Hanc Igitur, excepting nuptial Masses. (Though I would certainly oblige if a bride asked for the Roman Canon.) This amounts to Christmas and Easter and their octaves, Epiphany, Holy Thursday, Ascension, and Pentecost.
2. On the feast of any saint who is named in it, excepting feasts of Our Lady, as she is named in every Eucharistic Prayer.
3. On any feast that has a particularly Roman character, e.g. The Chair of Peter, the dedication of the Lateran, etc.
All together this makes for something like twelve percent of the whole liturgical year.
Well, lately I have made an adjustment. I have included nuptial Masses among those for which I use Eucharistic Prayer I, because of the proper Hanc Igitur. It's not found on the bottom of the page like the others, though, so you have to do a little sacramentary hacking:
I'm very proud of my rubric-red paperclip. I'm such a geek.
Check out the original post here.
Prayer and Sex
I have a prayerful friend with whom I sometimes talk about prayer and spiritual things. Recently she mentioned something that really fascinated me. She said that it was hard for her to understand what a man's prayer life could be like. For her, the experience of prayer and her relationship with God was so nuptial, so grounded in her femaleness and the maleness of Jesus Christ, that it was hard for her to imagine the prayer life of a male Christian.
Certainly there is something deeply feminine about all of Christian spirituality. The Church is the bride of Christ, after all, the abiding sign and fruit of the marriage of humanity and God, of earth and heaven, accomplished in the Incarnation of the Word. Authentic Christian spirituality is always ordered to mission, and in this sense Christian spirituality is always Marian in nature: we are called to consent to the Holy Spirit's conception of the Word of God within us, which we then nurture and bear to the world. Nevertheless, we can't push the femininity of Christian spirituality and discipleship in absolute terms; the Church is also the Body of Christ, acting in persona Christi, served by priests who minister in persona Christi capitis. So perhaps it's a classic 'both/and.'
Grace builds on nature. Since our sexuality is a constitutive part of our nature, we can expect our graced and prayerful selves to be expressions of who we are as sexual beings. What is our sexuality, in spiritual terms? It is the part of the person that drives thought, affection, and body out of the self in the quest for creative and supportive bond with another. It is the drive, at the heart of our being, to live in a bond of mutual generativity. In this sense our sexuality is the means by which we come to the clearest expression of how we are as creatures made in the image and likeness of the infinitely mutual and generative Trinity.
This is the sense in which deep prayer becomes a sexual relationship with God. Not that it's a genital relationship, and not necessarily an erotic one, but a sexual relationship nonetheless because it derives from the sexuality of the person who seeks a supportive, creative, mutually generative bond with God.
Certainly there is something deeply feminine about all of Christian spirituality. The Church is the bride of Christ, after all, the abiding sign and fruit of the marriage of humanity and God, of earth and heaven, accomplished in the Incarnation of the Word. Authentic Christian spirituality is always ordered to mission, and in this sense Christian spirituality is always Marian in nature: we are called to consent to the Holy Spirit's conception of the Word of God within us, which we then nurture and bear to the world. Nevertheless, we can't push the femininity of Christian spirituality and discipleship in absolute terms; the Church is also the Body of Christ, acting in persona Christi, served by priests who minister in persona Christi capitis. So perhaps it's a classic 'both/and.'
Grace builds on nature. Since our sexuality is a constitutive part of our nature, we can expect our graced and prayerful selves to be expressions of who we are as sexual beings. What is our sexuality, in spiritual terms? It is the part of the person that drives thought, affection, and body out of the self in the quest for creative and supportive bond with another. It is the drive, at the heart of our being, to live in a bond of mutual generativity. In this sense our sexuality is the means by which we come to the clearest expression of how we are as creatures made in the image and likeness of the infinitely mutual and generative Trinity.
This is the sense in which deep prayer becomes a sexual relationship with God. Not that it's a genital relationship, and not necessarily an erotic one, but a sexual relationship nonetheless because it derives from the sexuality of the person who seeks a supportive, creative, mutually generative bond with God.
May 27, 2010
Trinity Rant
Morning services and parish chores done, I sit down at my desk, make some coffee, put on the WMBR from MIT radio stream, and get ready to draft out a homily for Trinity Sunday.
Trinity Sunday is absolutely one of my favorite days to be a priest. Why? Because I don't have to listen to any Trinity Sunday homilies! In the fifteen Trinity Sundays from my baptism to my ordination, I don't think I heard one that was any good, fewer that were intelligible, and still fewer that had any portable spiritual teaching.
It usually goes like this: 'O.k., it's Trinity Sunday. God is a Trinity. He's three, he's one, you can't really understand it, but that's how it is. Please stand for the Creed.' Maybe if you're lucky you at least get the amusement of some limping analogies, or the excitement of a little heresy, usually modalism or Arianism.
And I always wanted to stand up and say NO! Let us not pass over the central mystery of the Christian faith with mystifying arithmetic or the boredom of obfuscating analogies!
Here's the thing: We can have an understanding of the Blessed Trinity. Not a comprehension, mind you, but some understanding. This is so for two reasons. First, that we are made in the image and likeness of God, and second, God reveals himself as Trinity in the Scriptures. It's not God that is totally incomprehensible, but that these two things, Scripture and the nature of human personhood, are often missing from our preaching!
Having been created in the image and likeness of God is the distinctive character of the human being. If we have been made in the image and likeness of God, that means that we are in the image of the Blessed Trinity. This means that our own experience of ourselves when we are at our best--when we are in love, acting with love, and especially in our capacity as creators of art, children, new ideas, etc.--we will learn something of the divine passion of the trinitarian God.
To help us understand ourselves as beings in the image and likeness of the Blessed Trinity, God reveals himself as such all through the Scriptures. From the God who creates through the utterance of his Word at the beginning of Genesis, to Lady Wisdom at play with the Creator from the beginning of time in Proverbs, to Jesus the Word made flesh, revealer of the Father, and tradition-er of the Spirit from the Cross in John, to the Lamb from whom the river of life flows in Revelation, the whole of the Sacred Scripture is one sustained revelation of the God who is Father, Son, and Spirit.
Accept nothing less in the preaching and catechesis you receive!
Trinity Sunday is absolutely one of my favorite days to be a priest. Why? Because I don't have to listen to any Trinity Sunday homilies! In the fifteen Trinity Sundays from my baptism to my ordination, I don't think I heard one that was any good, fewer that were intelligible, and still fewer that had any portable spiritual teaching.
It usually goes like this: 'O.k., it's Trinity Sunday. God is a Trinity. He's three, he's one, you can't really understand it, but that's how it is. Please stand for the Creed.' Maybe if you're lucky you at least get the amusement of some limping analogies, or the excitement of a little heresy, usually modalism or Arianism.
And I always wanted to stand up and say NO! Let us not pass over the central mystery of the Christian faith with mystifying arithmetic or the boredom of obfuscating analogies!
Here's the thing: We can have an understanding of the Blessed Trinity. Not a comprehension, mind you, but some understanding. This is so for two reasons. First, that we are made in the image and likeness of God, and second, God reveals himself as Trinity in the Scriptures. It's not God that is totally incomprehensible, but that these two things, Scripture and the nature of human personhood, are often missing from our preaching!
Having been created in the image and likeness of God is the distinctive character of the human being. If we have been made in the image and likeness of God, that means that we are in the image of the Blessed Trinity. This means that our own experience of ourselves when we are at our best--when we are in love, acting with love, and especially in our capacity as creators of art, children, new ideas, etc.--we will learn something of the divine passion of the trinitarian God.
To help us understand ourselves as beings in the image and likeness of the Blessed Trinity, God reveals himself as such all through the Scriptures. From the God who creates through the utterance of his Word at the beginning of Genesis, to Lady Wisdom at play with the Creator from the beginning of time in Proverbs, to Jesus the Word made flesh, revealer of the Father, and tradition-er of the Spirit from the Cross in John, to the Lamb from whom the river of life flows in Revelation, the whole of the Sacred Scripture is one sustained revelation of the God who is Father, Son, and Spirit.
Accept nothing less in the preaching and catechesis you receive!
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