This conversation goes in the "I came not to serve but to be served, and to give my life as an aggravation for many" file.
Annoyed friar: "It will be a cold day in hell."
Me: "Some parts of hell are cold, you know."
Even more annoyed friar: "How do you know?"
Me: "I have a licentiate in sacred theology."
April 13, 2011
April 12, 2011
Fortescue's Crypto-Catholics
As reading for relaxation (yes, I'm odd) I've been making my slow way through The Ceremonies of the Roman Rite Described.
I'm up to the 'reception of converts.' It's an interesting section to me personally, because Fortescue's description of how to receive unbaptized converts sounds a lot like what I went through in my own case, the parish near college not having heard (apparently) of the restored catechumenate through the RCIA. Amusingly, he only recognizes three species of the unbaptized adult: the Jew, the Muslim, and the Unitarian.
It's the section on receiving previously baptized converts, however, that is really interesting:
Now I'm not sure this sense of things stands up to a more current magisterial ecclesiology, but the theological assumptions in it beg some other questions.
For example, it's not uncommon to meet someone who was baptized as an infant by a priest or deacon, but who was never brought back to church again, and not raised as a Catholic. Such persons may not even know that they are Catholic, or might self-describe as without religious affiliation, but the Church considers them Catholic Christians nonetheless.
So what about those in the same situation who were baptized in non-Catholic ceremonies? Such a person might think that he was 'baptized Lutheran' or what have you, but since he was never taken to church again and thereby made excommunicate, in fact he is a Catholic in fairly good standing.
Therefore, on Fortescue's logic, if you were baptized as an infant in a protestant ceremony, but never went to church after that, you are in fact a Catholic. So, for your weekend planning, confessions are usually on Saturday.
I'm up to the 'reception of converts.' It's an interesting section to me personally, because Fortescue's description of how to receive unbaptized converts sounds a lot like what I went through in my own case, the parish near college not having heard (apparently) of the restored catechumenate through the RCIA. Amusingly, he only recognizes three species of the unbaptized adult: the Jew, the Muslim, and the Unitarian.
It's the section on receiving previously baptized converts, however, that is really interesting:
The case of a convert already baptised differs entirely in principle. He has once been a Catholic. He became so when he was baptised, no matter who baptised him or where. But since then he may have incurred excommunication for frequenting the conventicle of an heretical sect. All that is needed then, in principle, is that he now be absolved from that excommunication. (433)
Now I'm not sure this sense of things stands up to a more current magisterial ecclesiology, but the theological assumptions in it beg some other questions.
For example, it's not uncommon to meet someone who was baptized as an infant by a priest or deacon, but who was never brought back to church again, and not raised as a Catholic. Such persons may not even know that they are Catholic, or might self-describe as without religious affiliation, but the Church considers them Catholic Christians nonetheless.
So what about those in the same situation who were baptized in non-Catholic ceremonies? Such a person might think that he was 'baptized Lutheran' or what have you, but since he was never taken to church again and thereby made excommunicate, in fact he is a Catholic in fairly good standing.
Therefore, on Fortescue's logic, if you were baptized as an infant in a protestant ceremony, but never went to church after that, you are in fact a Catholic. So, for your weekend planning, confessions are usually on Saturday.
Before the Mirror of Eternity
In today's gospel (John 8:21-30), Jesus is asked, "Who are you?" It fascinates me that he answers by talking about the Father. In the mysterious divine unity, Jesus cannot talk about who he is without speaking of the Father.
I've been spending a lot of time this semester reading on the Blessed Trinity. Much of it is very beautiful and inspiring, but none of it is easy.
But as I was praying through the passage yesterday, I began to think that the study and contemplation of the Blessed Trinity is a fulfillment of the beautiful advice of St. Clare to St. Agnes of Prague: "Place your mind before the mirror of eternity."
For the divine economy by which we are saved is the processions of the Blessed Trinity, in mirror image, as it were.
In eternity, the Father generates the Son, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son.
God's passionate desire for our beatitude, our salvation revealed in time, works a 'recession' that goes the other way: The Spirit conceives the humanity of Christ, which becomes the Way for us to enter into the delighted unity of the Father and the Son, 'filiated' to the Father as sons and daughters in the Son.
Our contemplation, then, is the placing of our minds and hearts before the mirror of eternity, for the eternal processions and relations of the Blessed Trinity are the mirror image of their revelation to us as our salvation.
I've been spending a lot of time this semester reading on the Blessed Trinity. Much of it is very beautiful and inspiring, but none of it is easy.
But as I was praying through the passage yesterday, I began to think that the study and contemplation of the Blessed Trinity is a fulfillment of the beautiful advice of St. Clare to St. Agnes of Prague: "Place your mind before the mirror of eternity."
For the divine economy by which we are saved is the processions of the Blessed Trinity, in mirror image, as it were.
In eternity, the Father generates the Son, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son.
God's passionate desire for our beatitude, our salvation revealed in time, works a 'recession' that goes the other way: The Spirit conceives the humanity of Christ, which becomes the Way for us to enter into the delighted unity of the Father and the Son, 'filiated' to the Father as sons and daughters in the Son.
Our contemplation, then, is the placing of our minds and hearts before the mirror of eternity, for the eternal processions and relations of the Blessed Trinity are the mirror image of their revelation to us as our salvation.
April 11, 2011
Jesus, Pornography, and Beautiful Sunsets
St. John's scene of the woman caught in adultery comes up in the lectionary today. (John 8:1-11) As I said to the sisters this morning, it's so full of encouragement and beautiful teaching that one almost feels ashamed to say anything after it by way of homily.
As I was praying through the passage last night, I started to reflect on chastity. Who is it, really, who is unchaste in the story? The woman, of course, was guilty of some kind of unchastity to one degree or another. But as I prayed I began to realize that is the men in the story, the scribes and Pharisees, who are the most unchaste. Their heinous unchastity consists in how they instrumentalize this woman, using her even to the point of her fate of life or execution, just to try to impose an impossible dilemma on Jesus and thus have something with which to charge him.
Jesus, in contrast, cleverly refuses the dilemma and protects the woman. To him she isn't someone to be used for some purpose apart from her own salvation--we see this in how Jesus addresses her personally and then commands her to leave sin behind.
My reflection reminded me of a conversation I once had when I was in the parish. A young man asked me if I could think of any spiritual strategies or practices that could help in a struggle with the use of pornography. Without really thinking, I said, "When you see a pornographic image of a young woman, wonder if she has received her Confirmation, and then pray for her safety."
We both laughed, partly because the thing about Confirmation is so 'parish priest'; when you spend a lot of time dealing with marriage preparation and baptismal sponsorship, the confirmed/unconfirmed distinction is the principal way young adults are distinguished. But as time goes by, I've come to think that my spontaneous advice was inspired. It's a little way that someone could begin to develop a chaste attitude toward his neighbor, reminding himself that it is her salvation and happiness in God that really matter, rather than anything she might be for his selfish purposes. The ascesis of chastity consists in training our hearts and eyes to see other people as God sees them: as unique and unrepeatable creations whose flourishing, happiness, and salvation are desired for their own sake.
So, I continued to the young man once we were finished laughing, "Desire God for them, instead of desiring them for yourself. That's love against lust."
I remember once when I was young in religious life I went to a talk that some wise old priest was to give on the subject of chastity. When he got to dealing with the 'lust of the eyes,' he made this observation, which I wrote down: 'When you see a beautiful tree or a beautiful sunset, you just appreciate it for itself, and for God who has made the creation so full of delight. You don't immediately get distracted by any dumb idea that the beauty of the tree or the sunset is supposed to do anything for you or be some kind of possession that you can grab for greedily. You begin to see through the physical beauty to the perfect loveliness of God and so are drawn into an attitude of contemplation. And yet, this happens in such a way that you are not taken away from the particular, concrete moment and your full attention to what is before you. When you can be like that when you encounter some pretty woman to whom you are sexually attracted, that's chastity. But when you get to that point, it won't even matter to you whether or not someone is pretty, because everyone will be beautiful.'
As I was praying through the passage last night, I started to reflect on chastity. Who is it, really, who is unchaste in the story? The woman, of course, was guilty of some kind of unchastity to one degree or another. But as I prayed I began to realize that is the men in the story, the scribes and Pharisees, who are the most unchaste. Their heinous unchastity consists in how they instrumentalize this woman, using her even to the point of her fate of life or execution, just to try to impose an impossible dilemma on Jesus and thus have something with which to charge him.
Jesus, in contrast, cleverly refuses the dilemma and protects the woman. To him she isn't someone to be used for some purpose apart from her own salvation--we see this in how Jesus addresses her personally and then commands her to leave sin behind.
My reflection reminded me of a conversation I once had when I was in the parish. A young man asked me if I could think of any spiritual strategies or practices that could help in a struggle with the use of pornography. Without really thinking, I said, "When you see a pornographic image of a young woman, wonder if she has received her Confirmation, and then pray for her safety."
We both laughed, partly because the thing about Confirmation is so 'parish priest'; when you spend a lot of time dealing with marriage preparation and baptismal sponsorship, the confirmed/unconfirmed distinction is the principal way young adults are distinguished. But as time goes by, I've come to think that my spontaneous advice was inspired. It's a little way that someone could begin to develop a chaste attitude toward his neighbor, reminding himself that it is her salvation and happiness in God that really matter, rather than anything she might be for his selfish purposes. The ascesis of chastity consists in training our hearts and eyes to see other people as God sees them: as unique and unrepeatable creations whose flourishing, happiness, and salvation are desired for their own sake.
So, I continued to the young man once we were finished laughing, "Desire God for them, instead of desiring them for yourself. That's love against lust."
I remember once when I was young in religious life I went to a talk that some wise old priest was to give on the subject of chastity. When he got to dealing with the 'lust of the eyes,' he made this observation, which I wrote down: 'When you see a beautiful tree or a beautiful sunset, you just appreciate it for itself, and for God who has made the creation so full of delight. You don't immediately get distracted by any dumb idea that the beauty of the tree or the sunset is supposed to do anything for you or be some kind of possession that you can grab for greedily. You begin to see through the physical beauty to the perfect loveliness of God and so are drawn into an attitude of contemplation. And yet, this happens in such a way that you are not taken away from the particular, concrete moment and your full attention to what is before you. When you can be like that when you encounter some pretty woman to whom you are sexually attracted, that's chastity. But when you get to that point, it won't even matter to you whether or not someone is pretty, because everyone will be beautiful.'
April 10, 2011
Loving Precision
At the parish where I went for Mass this morning, I was simultaneously edified and amused by the altar servers. A team of brother and sister, self-reporting to be nine and ten years old respectively, they were, as my mother sometimes says of me, somewhat 'precise.' As I say, I was impressed and amused by the precision of their service.
I got to church before anyone else (that's how I like it) and saw that the altar sacramentary was set up on the credence, open in the Order of Mass to the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Knowing those prayers by heart (and being in the practice of saying them in Latin anyway when there's an offertory hymn--the new translation won't bother me here!) I turned the page over to the orations for the day.
When the servers set up the altar, the kid who brought over the missal stand (with the sacramentary on it) noticed my adjustment and corrected it, turning the page back to where it was. Not wanting to dismiss his effort to correct the situation, I read the prayers from the book. A lot of ministry is hospitality, after all, and it goes both ways; being a good guest is important too.
The next funny bump in the road came at the end of Holy Communion. For the Communion procession, there were four ministers: me and an extraordinary minister with the Host and two others with the Precious Blood. Thus, when I returned to the altar after the procession, I had some work to do. I had to consume what remained of the Precious Blood from two chalices, purify them, and then combine two ciboria into one for returning the Sacrament to the tabernacle (which is some distance away in this church.) All the while I was doing this, praying quietly my Quod ore sumpsimus...the two servers stood patiently at the corner of the altar, waiting to take things away. Since they seemed eager for something to do, I re-dressed the two chalices with their purificators, and the principal one also with the paten and pall (I didn't have a veil or burse.) I didn't fold the corporal and put it on top of the pall, because the Sacrament was still resting on the altar. As I turned to take the ciborium to the tabernacle, I saw that the servers quickly took the two chalices to return them to the credence.
I figured that I would return to the altar from the tabernacle, fold the corporal, and then either leave it on the corner of the altar or return it to the credence myself on my way back to the chair for the Prayer After Communion and the end of Mass. (This happened often enough when I was a parish priest.) The servers, however, seeing me going back to the altar, jumped up and took the re-dressed chalices off the credence and brought them back to the altar, so that I could put the folded corporal on the chalice pall, como Dios manda, as they say. Then they re-removed them to the credence.
As I say, I found this all very funny, but I was edified by their attention and effort at the same time. In the practice of our faith, the boundary between loving attention to detail and scrupulosity sometimes gets very blurry. These kids were certainly on the former side, and I pray that their example keeps me there too.
I got to church before anyone else (that's how I like it) and saw that the altar sacramentary was set up on the credence, open in the Order of Mass to the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Knowing those prayers by heart (and being in the practice of saying them in Latin anyway when there's an offertory hymn--the new translation won't bother me here!) I turned the page over to the orations for the day.
When the servers set up the altar, the kid who brought over the missal stand (with the sacramentary on it) noticed my adjustment and corrected it, turning the page back to where it was. Not wanting to dismiss his effort to correct the situation, I read the prayers from the book. A lot of ministry is hospitality, after all, and it goes both ways; being a good guest is important too.
The next funny bump in the road came at the end of Holy Communion. For the Communion procession, there were four ministers: me and an extraordinary minister with the Host and two others with the Precious Blood. Thus, when I returned to the altar after the procession, I had some work to do. I had to consume what remained of the Precious Blood from two chalices, purify them, and then combine two ciboria into one for returning the Sacrament to the tabernacle (which is some distance away in this church.) All the while I was doing this, praying quietly my Quod ore sumpsimus...the two servers stood patiently at the corner of the altar, waiting to take things away. Since they seemed eager for something to do, I re-dressed the two chalices with their purificators, and the principal one also with the paten and pall (I didn't have a veil or burse.) I didn't fold the corporal and put it on top of the pall, because the Sacrament was still resting on the altar. As I turned to take the ciborium to the tabernacle, I saw that the servers quickly took the two chalices to return them to the credence.
I figured that I would return to the altar from the tabernacle, fold the corporal, and then either leave it on the corner of the altar or return it to the credence myself on my way back to the chair for the Prayer After Communion and the end of Mass. (This happened often enough when I was a parish priest.) The servers, however, seeing me going back to the altar, jumped up and took the re-dressed chalices off the credence and brought them back to the altar, so that I could put the folded corporal on the chalice pall, como Dios manda, as they say. Then they re-removed them to the credence.
As I say, I found this all very funny, but I was edified by their attention and effort at the same time. In the practice of our faith, the boundary between loving attention to detail and scrupulosity sometimes gets very blurry. These kids were certainly on the former side, and I pray that their example keeps me there too.
April 9, 2011
A Kludge for Passiontide
"In the dioceses of the United States, crosses in the church may be covered from the conclusion of the Mass for the Saturday of the fourth week of Lent until the end of the Celebration of the Lord's Passion on Good Friday."
In this devout spirit, I veiled the crucifix in my room with my violet maniple.
In this devout spirit, I veiled the crucifix in my room with my violet maniple.
April 8, 2011
On The Various Forms of Prass
General Instruction of the Liturgy of the Hours 93-98 describes the particulars of how to combine Mass with one of the Hours. Mass may be "more closely joined" with Evening Prayer, Morning Prayer, or one of the Daytime hours. Except for the option of an extended vigil of Christmas Eve that includes the Mass in nocte, Mass can't ordinarily be combined with the Office of Readings. The GILH doesn't even address the idea of combining Mass with Night Prayer.
Even though I've been going to Mass for almost nineteen years, and have been saying at least some of the Hours for seventeen, I had not experienced this liturgical option until very recently.
It's curious, or at least it is to me, that the liturgical services that result from the 'more close joining' of Mass with one of the Hours do not seem to have their own names. Our friars sometimes use the general term 'Prass,' a contraction of 'Prayer and Mass.'
Playing around with this on Twitter yesterday, I learned some other names:
Evening Prayer combined with Mass is called "Masspers."
Morning Prayer combined with Mass is called "Mauds."
I still don't know what Mid-Morning, Midday, or Mid-Afternoon Prayer are called when combined with Mass. Perhaps Tass, Sass, and Nass, or Merce, Mext, and Mone? I'm not sure about those.
Thanks to @caesius and @mikewgossett
Even though I've been going to Mass for almost nineteen years, and have been saying at least some of the Hours for seventeen, I had not experienced this liturgical option until very recently.
It's curious, or at least it is to me, that the liturgical services that result from the 'more close joining' of Mass with one of the Hours do not seem to have their own names. Our friars sometimes use the general term 'Prass,' a contraction of 'Prayer and Mass.'
Playing around with this on Twitter yesterday, I learned some other names:
Evening Prayer combined with Mass is called "Masspers."
Morning Prayer combined with Mass is called "Mauds."
I still don't know what Mid-Morning, Midday, or Mid-Afternoon Prayer are called when combined with Mass. Perhaps Tass, Sass, and Nass, or Merce, Mext, and Mone? I'm not sure about those.
Thanks to @caesius and @mikewgossett
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