The Parish Church in a Changeable Community: Some Basic Requirements for Survival

blog.2.1For my first assignment as a priest I was sent to a large parish located in a suburb just inside the Washington Beltway. At the time it was flourishing, with four well-attended masses each Sunday. The people there loved their parish and spoke with devotion of the former pastor who, though he had died a dozen years before, loomed large in the memories of both Church and neighborhood. He was from that generation of pastors who had an almost kingly status. He stood 6’4” and his physical stature was matched by his personality. He was so strong a leader and had such a booming voice that people swore you could hear him from outside the Church when he preached. Parishioners loved or feared him; city/county officials respected him and knew that little would be politically feasible without his support.

When I arrived, the congregation consisted mostly of older families headed by World War II veterans, many of them retired. They had worked at blue-collar and white-collar jobs, government jobs and industrial jobs at the nearby Navy Yard. They were proud and remembered the sacrifices it had taken to build the parish “after the War.” Indeed, the parish was one of those “factories” we used to build. The grammar school, a three-story solid brick structure, had once been filled with 1500 children. The church seated over a thousand and in the halcyon days of late 1950s and early 1960s the rectory housed five priests; the convent was built for 25 religious sisters and was full. Right next door was the high school, staffed by another religious order. In all, the parish stretched two blocks along the main street of that town. Thousands moved through its facilities each day.

But by the time I arrived in the late 1980s an era was ending. The demographics of the neighborhood had already begun to change in the early 1970s. A white (Caucasian), blue-collar community became steadily black (African-American) and blue-collar. Many longtime parishioners began to locate south of the Washington Beltway into southern Prince George’s County and northern Charles County. Yet through the 1980s, even though they moved farther and farther away, older parishioners and even their children (now adults with families of their own) remained intensely loyal to the parish. They often drove past several other parishes to come back to the family parish. When I arrived in the late 1980s, the neighborhood was 90% African-American but the parish was 85% white.

I learned over the years that when a parish starts to rely on “commuter” parishioners instead of those who actually live within its boundaries, two things happen. First, necessary changes to reach new neighbors are resisted. Second, attendance erodes as older members die. And while the children of the founding families may still have some loyalty to the parish, it tends to fade when the matriarch or patriarch dies; and the loyalty is seldom shared by the grandchildren.

Add to all this the fact that during the 1970s and 1980s large numbers of Catholics fell away from the practice of the faith. With each passing year the numbers dropped significantly. By 1995 the average Sunday attendance had fallen below 1000 and the downward trend continued from there; today 400 is typical.

The scenario above has been repeated in countless congregations throughout the country, especially in the Northeast and Midwest where demographic shifts have been seismic.

Demographic shifts are generally not something that parishes can control. However, there are internal issues that can help or harm, especially when the issue is not depopulation but rather changing ethnicity or race in the neighborhood.

  1. Avoid merely lamenting the passage of the “good old days.” Scripture says, “For here we have no lasting city” (Heb 13:14). Change is part of life. The parish may once have been Polish, or Italian, or black, or white, but now it is changing. One thing, however, has not changed: there are still human beings who need to hear the Gospel and be saved. No less than in the past, we need to go out and meet our new neighbors, welcome them, and proclaim the primordial call: Come to Jesus.
  2. Catechesis is critical. Most Catholics have little instruction that the entire world is divided up into parishes. Every parish has a pastor and a territory. Since there is only once Church, the Pastor (together with his parish to help) is the shepherd of every human person within those boundaries: Catholic or Protestant, Christian, Muslim, Jew, or atheist. The parish has a responsibility to connect with every man, woman and child in their boundaries and invite them to know Christ, through his Word, Sacraments and his Body the Church.
  3. Connecting with actual neighbors is crucial. In my own parish, due to demographic shifts involving race, we became very disconnected from our neighborhood. Most parishioners were “commuting.” Our actual neighbors knew little about us and we knew little about them. In order to try to address that, twenty teams of us went out to meet our neighbors and listen to them. It meant reaching across racial divides and generation gaps (most of the neighbors were young, single adults). Older African-Americans met with younger, single white neighbors and invited them to come and see our parish. One thing we learned was that our Mass schedule was not convenient for many of our new neighbors. In response, we added a Sunday evening Mass, which has become very popular and is growing. In so doing, we showed our neighbors that we heard their concerns and cared about them.
  4. Challenges are not always bad; they can help people and parishes gain strength. I have seen parishes, including my own, rise to the challenges. We grew stronger in witness and we reached people we might never have reached had we not been called out our comfort zone. I know of one parish in nearby Maryland that became quite empty and sleepy when demographic change swept away many of its original members (blue-collar, ethnic whites). But today it is a bursting at the seams; there is standing room only at the main Sunday Masses and hundreds of children attend Sunday school. Parishes have lifecycles if they are willing to adapt, retool, reach out and welcome new members, speak new languages, and listen to the needs of new neighbors.
  5. Organic change and growth is usually best. While parishes should not be overly resistant to change, it does not follow that radical change is healthy either. Adding new things that reach new people and groups need not mean neglecting those who have been the bread and butter of the parish. Respecting those who have loyally attended over the years is important. People matter, not just numbers. In my own parish, adding a new Sunday evening Mass has meant that the liturgical format at our principal Mass can continue as well.
  6. Continuing to rely on “commuter parishioners” and niche marketing alone is not healthy. The genius of Catholicism, and its mainstay, has been geographically based parishes that minister to and are responsible for their neighbors. Some parishes can survive for a time on folks who have moved away but come back each Sunday, but they are living on the fumes of a receding past; I have never seen this model work for more than 15 – 20 years. Other parishes seek to survive through niche marketing; some examples of this are offering special forms of the Mass such as Latin, or Gospel Music, or certain special language or ethnic outreach. Here, too, such things seldom last and cannot survive personnel changes or further demographic shifts. The prevailing model has been and continues to be that parishes must be connected to neighborhoods. Since human beings have bodies, proximity matters. Getting to a distant parish becomes problematic over time and is affected by things like weather, age, gas prices, and the general hurried pace of modern life. There may always be some who willingly drive past five other parishes in order to come to their favorite one (with a liturgy or pastor they like), but in general this sort of model cannot sustain parishes for long.

I know that posts like this provoke controversy. People and priests get very attached to particular parishes and formats and to what is familiar. But after forty years of working in parishes as choir director, organist, seminarian, priest, and pastor, I can say that all of them have changed in profound ways over the decades. I have seldom found a parish locked in commuter mode or niche marketing that remains strong and healthy for long without deep connections to their actual neighbors.

It is true that certain parishes (e.g., shrines, or those in downtown settings with few Catholic residents) may have a stable focus or need to do specific things to attract congregations. But for most parishes the meat and potatoes is going to have to be the people who actually live in the area. They are, after all, the people a parish is supposed to reach. When a parish prefers to reach other people, or despairs of reaching its actual neighbors, it strays from the will of Christ, who bids us to go unto all people and nations and make disciples. And if a parish strays from its job as Christ has set it forth, can it expect to be blessed? Well, you decide.

I suspect that some of the comments to this post will be ones that defend a particular scenario that is at variance with the “neighborhood model.” You are free to do so, but at least factor in the traditional stance of the Church: divide the world into territorial parishes and ask each parish to tend to its particular vineyard first. Does your parish meet that goal? Even if you are from a “national parish” (which is rare today), the mandate to go into the whole world, starting at our front door, cannot be set aside. The Church should never be a “strange building” in a neighborhood. It is not an island set apart. Rather, it is an oasis in the desert of every neighborhood, deeply connected to its neighbors and their salvation.

Why the Acclamations at the “Mystery of Faith” Need Further Consideration

eCatholic-stock-photo-39There is a moment in the Eucharistic Prayer in the Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite at which the priest awkwardly summons the people to respond by using a sentence fragment: “The mystery of faith” (mysterium fidei). The 1970 translation from the Latin tried to complete the fragment by supplying some additional words: “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith.”

But regardless of the specifics of the wording, it seems an awkward moment, something interjected into the action of the Eucharistic Prayer.

But even in the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (the traditional Latin Mass celebrated before1970) the phrase mysterium fidei “mysteriously” lurked about in the words of the consecration over the chalice:

Hic est enim calix sanguinis mei, novi et aeterni testamenti: mysterium fidei:
qui pro vobis et pro multis effundetur in remissionem peccatorum.

For this is the chalice of My blood, of the new and eternal testament: the mystery of faith: which will be shed for you and for many unto the remission of sins.

What was the phrase doing there? How did it get inserted into the very words of consecration?

There are many theories but no one really knows. Father Joseph Jungmann, S.J. has studied this as much or more than anyone else and he says,

Regarding the words mysterium fidei there is absolutely no agreement. A distant parallel is to be found Apostolic Constitutions, where our Lord is made to say at the consecration of the bread: “This is the mystery of the New Testament, take of it, eat, it is my body.” … What is meant by the words mysterium fidei? Christian antiquity would not have referred them so much to the obscurity of what is here hidden from the senses … Rather it would have taken them as a reference to the grace-laden sacrament in which the entire object of faith, the whole divine order of salvation is comprised … How or when or why this insertion was made, or what external event occasioned it cannot readily be ascertained (Jungmann, Mass of the Roman Rite, Vol 2 pp. 200-201, Christian Classics).

So, the precise origin and meaning of the phrase, “the mystery of faith” is itself mysterious. It is surprising to me that this interjection, a phrase not found in any biblical account of the words of consecration by our Lord Himself, would have been introduced into such essential words. But there it is, right in the words of consecration as they have existed in the Roman Rite for a thousand years.

With little explanation, the phrase was relocated in the 1970 Missal so that it now occurs after the words of consecration. Having consecrated the wine in the Chalice, the celebrant proclaims, as a kind of detached phrase, “The mystery of faith.” And the people may answer with one of three acclamations:

We proclaim your Death, O Lord,
and profess your Resurrection,
until you come again.

When we eat this Bread and drink this Cup,
we proclaim your Death, O Lord,
until you come again.

Save us, Savior of the world,
for by your Cross and Resurrection
you have set us free.

The typical explanation for this is that acclamations after the consecration were common in ancient liturgical practice, especially in the East. But while Eastern liturgies contain acclamations of varying sorts after the consecration, that is true throughout those liturgies.

In the Liturgy of St John Chrysostom, there are the following set of acclamations related to the words of consecration:

Priest: Take, eat, this is my Body which is broken for you for the forgiveness of sins.

People: Amen.

Priest: Likewise, after supper, He took the cup, saying,

Priest: Drink of it all of you; this is my Blood of the new Covenant which is shed for you and for many for the forgiveness of sins.

People: Amen.

Priest: Remembering, therefore, this command of the Savior, and all that came to pass for our sake, the cross, the tomb, the resurrection on the third day, the ascension into heaven, the enthronement at the right hand of the Father, and the second, glorious coming, We offer to You these gifts from Your own gifts in all and for all.

People: We praise You, we bless You, we give thanks to You, and we pray to You, Lord our God.

So, if the intention was to imitate the Eastern liturgies, why not imitate them more closely with two amens, an announcement of the paschal mystery by the priest, and a doxology by the people? Why call the practice “ancient” (despite no obvious precedent in the Roman Rite) and then introduce a modern abbreviation of an ancient Eastern practice?

Another question that arises is why borrow from the Eastern rites at all? There is a general (though not absolute) norm that we should refrain from “mixing rites.” This is because each of the rites, Western and Eastern, has its own genius and structure that should be respected. While the essential aspects of liturgy exist in all the rites, language, musical style, vestments, ceremonial details, and other particulars vary a good deal and their integrity should be respected.

In this case, a new element borrowed from the Eastern Rites was introduced, but in a kind of minimized way that some argue respects the integrity of neither the Roman nor Eastern Rites.

Add to all this that the Roman Rite actually did have a kind of acclamation (at least in sung liturgies) after the consecration that had its own genius. It was the Benedictus, the second half of the Sanctus. In sung liturgies it was a widespread practice to sing the first half of the Sanctus at the end of the preface and the second half (the Benedictus) after the consecration of the Chalice. Thus the post-consecratory acclamation was

Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the Highest!

Pope Benedict, writing as Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger in 2005, made some important but often-forgotten observations and suggestions regarding the Benedictus and its current placement, even going so far as to suggest a change, or at least another option:

Whereas the Sanctus evolved from Isaiah 6, the Benedictus is based on the New Testament rereading of Psalm 118:26 which … on Palm Sunday received a new meaning. … As the youth of Jerusalem shout this verse to Jesus they are greeting him as the Messiah. … The Sanctus [therefore] is ordered to the eternal glory of God; in contrast, the Benedictus refers to the advent of the incarnate God in our midst … For this reason, the Benedictus is meaningful … as an exclamation to the Lord who has become present in the Eucharistic Species. The great moment of his coming, the immensity of his real presence … definitely call for a response.  … The reformers of the liturgy composed an acclamation of the people [We proclaim your Death, O Lord, and profess your Resurrection, until you come again] … But the question of other possible acclamations to welcome the Lord who is coming/has come, has been posed. It is evident to me that there is no more appropriate or profound acclamation, or one that is more rooted in tradition then precisely this one: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” It is true that splitting the Sanctus and Benedictus is not necessary, but it makes a lot of sense. The pedantic proscription [forbidding] of such a split … should be forgotten as quickly as possible (Joseph Ratzinger, Collected Works, “Theology of the Liturgy.” Ignatius, Vol 11, pp. 477-479).

And therefore we see that there is valid support for an acclamation within the tradition of the Roman Rite that does not need to borrow from other rites (thereby compromising the integrity of both).

Since the current practice has been occurring for over forty years, one need not insist on the suppression of (three) acclamations. However, what about introducing the Benedictus (the second half of the Sanctus) as a valid option when the priest summons the people by saying, “the mystery of faith”? This would respect current practice, while introducing the option of another one more in keeping with the Western, Roman Rite. Time would then tell which prevails or if both simply go forward as options.

For the record, I agree with (then) Cardinal Ratzinger that the Benedictus as a post-consecratory acclamation is a fabulous option. It perfectly describes the reality of the incarnation, a notion that befits the transubstantiation of the elements that has just occurred: the eternal Son of God, ever to be praised in the highest heavens, has now come among us. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Indeed, Hosanna in the Highest!

Some may argue that we should align with the Eastern Rites, which speak more to the full paschal mystery. But why not allow each rite to have its own genius? The Roman Rite would emphasize the incarnation, the Eastern rites the paschal mystery, each in accord with its own tradition.

Your thoughts, charitably expressed, are always appreciated.

Here are the Sanctus and Benedictus from Hassler’s Missa Secunda:

A “Rule of Life” for Prophets – A Homily for the 4th Sunday of the Year

blog.1.30.16Prophets are those who speak for God. They Love God and His people; they speak the (often painful) truth of God to His people. They do so not to win an argument, but because of their love and conviction that only the undiluted truth of God can save us in the end.

People-pleasing and other forms of human respect cannot supplant reverence for God and His truth. Prophets are willing to endure pain and suffering in order to proclaim God’s truth to an often-unappreciative segment of God’s people. But out of love for God and His people they press on to proclaim His truth willingly, even knowing that they may face death for their personal, persistent, and prophetic proclamation.

Today’s readings set forth a kind of “rule for life” for prophets. And we, who are baptized into the order of the prophet, do well to listen to the teachings of these readings. Let us examine them in three stages.

I. The Call that is Declared – The text says, In the first reading God says to Jeremiah (and to us): The word of the LORD came to me, saying: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you. But do you gird your loins; stand up and tell them all that I command you.

We ought to note four things about our call as prophets.

1. The Prevenient nature of our Call – The word “prevenient” is an adjective describing something that comes before, something that is anticipatory. God has not chosen us on a whim, as if to say, “I suppose you’ll do.” Before He made us, He considered our call and then equipped, empowered, and enabled us for our work.

God tells Jeremiah (and us) that He knew, loved, and cherished us long before He ever made us. And thus He made us in a way that prepared and equipped us for the very work of being a prophets.

“How?” you ask. The answer to that is as variable as is each person. There is no one who can proclaim God or announce the kingdom the way you can. Perhaps He has especially equipped you to evangelize certain individuals whom no one else can reach. Just know this: God thought a long time about you and prepared you in very specific and thoughtful ways. Whatever you need has “come before,” is “prevenient.”

2. The Purview of our Call – The text tells Jeremiah (and us) that we are appointed unto the nations. Now Jeremiah himself did not journey beyond Israel. But since then, the Word of the Lord uttered through him has reached every nation.

Never doubt the influence you can exert by the grace of God. Even in and through reaching one person you can change the destiny of many. Stay in your lane and do your work, but remember that God can accomplish through you more than you ask or imagine. By His grace, your influence can reach the nations.

3. The Preparation of our Call – The Lord tells Jeremiah (and us) to “gird our loins.” This is an ancient way of saying, “roll up your sleeves.” In other words, prepare to work by assembling what you need and being ready to expend effort.

For us this surely means daily prayer, weekly Eucharist, and frequent confession. It means prayerfully reading God’s Word and the teaching of the Church. It means keeping fellowship with the Church and with fellow believers. All of this equips, empowers, and enables us for the work God has called us to do: being prophets.

Beyond this there may be other specific gifts God calls us to develop: music, a second language, healing, preaching, or administration. God will show you what those gifts are and help you to grow the talents you have received.

In all this you “roll up your sleeves” for the work God has given you (and prepared you for) so that you will be an ever more effective prophet.

4. The Prescription of our Call – The text says, “[T]ell them all that I command you.” In other words, leave nothing out; proclaim the whole counsel of God. Don’t just proclaim what appeals to you or jibes with your politics and worldview. Don’t just say what is popular or agrees with currently worldly thinking. Tell them the whole message, in season or out of season.

II. The Courage that is Demanded – The text says Be not crushed on their account, as though I would leave you crushed before them; for it is I this day who have made you a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass, against the whole land: against Judah’s kings and princes, against its priests and people.

And here note three qualities of a prophet:

Strong – A prophet needs to be strong, for people are stubborn and hesitant to change. Indeed, we are collectively a stiff-necked people; we have necks of iron and foreheads of brass. We are thick-headed, willful, and obdurate. A prophet must be willing to endure a lot to move the ball even a few inches. If you don’t think we’re a hard case, look at the cross and see what it took to save us. Prophets need strength and persistence.

Supporting – The prophet is called “a pillar of iron.”  That is, he is to lend support to a crumbling nation and culture. Whether our culture likes to admit it or not, it is crumbling and collapsing. If it is to stand any chance at all, we must be willing to be pillars of iron, calling this culture back to modesty, decency, chastity, self-control, maturity, obedience to God, and generosity to the poor. Otherwise, everything is destined for ruin.

Sadly, the Church has often had to pick up the shattered pieces of fallen cultures, nations, and eras that refused to repent. But this is what prophets must do: they must be pillars of iron when cultures go weak and soft, or crumble under the weight of pride, sin, and unrepentance.

And failing that, we must become, by God’s grace, the new foundation and pillar of what rises from the ashes. All of this takes great courage.

Sanctifying – Jeremiah is told that the priests, kings, and princes have all been corrupted and that he must speak the truth to them and summon them to repentance.

This is the hardest work of the prophet: to call those who most benefit from the current status quo to change and repentance. This is hard not only because they are at the top” of the current system, but it is also because, to one degree or another, they are owed respect and obedience as lawful superiors.

Finding the balance between respecting authority figures and summoning them to repentance is not easy and only God can really pull it off. Nevertheless, speaking the truth to powerful people is the unenviable lot of the prophet.

Well, fellow prophets, all of this refers to you and me. I would only urge prayer here. Bishop-bashing and ridiculing political leaders is not the solution. But neither is quiet acquiescence when those in authority need to hear a call from the Lord. Lots of prayer and a general tone of respect will surely lead the way. Practice clarity with charity, and light with love.

III. The Conclusion that is Determined – The text says, They will fight against you but not prevail over you, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD.

In the end, the truth will out. The Light wins; He always wins. Every night gives way to day, when the light scatters the darkness. Darkness has its hour, but truth has eternity. Good Friday only points to Easter Sunday, when death is cast off like a garment. In the end, every true prophet is on the winning team. While he may face jail, laughter, ridicule, persecution, setbacks, and trials, what every true prophet announces will come to pass. History bears this out and it will be made definitively manifest on the Last Day. The darkness cannot prevail; it always gives way to the light.

The conclusion for the prophet, the Church, the Gospel, and the Lord is total victory. It cannot be any other way. God has spoken it and He will do it.

The Lord Jesus shows us this in today’s Gospel, even if only in a small way. The text says, They rose up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town had been built, to hurl him down headlong. But Jesus passed through the midst of them and went away.

This is a preview of Easter: just when Satan is running his victory lap, the Lord casts off death and stands as Light in the shadow of the Cross. Satan loses; Jesus wins. That is the conclusion.

So get on the winning team. Pay little heed to the current struggle; it cannot last or win. Jesus has already won.

From My Hidden Faults Acquit Me, O Lord! As Seen in a Commercial

blog.adw.org1.29The video below humorously illustrates a biblical principle of our hidden faults. We all have sins and behaviors that are apparent to others but of which we are unaware. And there are even deeper faults of which no one is aware except God Himself, who sees our innermost heart. Consider some of the following quotes:

By [your ordinances] your servant warned; in keeping them there is great reward. But who can discern his errors? From my hidden faults acquit me, O Lord. Keep your servant also from willful sins; may they not rule over me (Psalm 19:11-13).

You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence (Psalm 90:8).

For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil (Eccl 12:14).

Mind you, I have nothing on my conscience, but I do not stand thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me (1 Cor 4:4).

The sins of some men are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear only later (1 Tim 5:24).

Call no man happy before he dies, for by how he ends, a man is known (Sirach 11:28).

Yes, some of our sins are obvious to us and we rightly work on them. But lest we sin through pride, we should always recall that we have sins and faults that are hidden from us. Others may see them, or perhaps only God.

At the end of the day, we’re all going to need a lot of grace and mercy!

Enjoy the commercial below that illustrates this fact well. And I hope you appreciate this little bit of humor; it’s been a tough week on the blog!

Blessed (and also very smart) Are the Merciful

Feature-031214In today’s gospel the Lord gives us a very practical reminder: “The measure that you measure to others will be measured back to you.” What does this mean?

Well, if you were on your way to court and you received advice as to how you could influence the judge to be less severe in your case would you not seriously consider following that advice? Surely you would—unless of course the “advice” involved bribery or some other corrupt activity.

And in fact Jesus, our judge, has described an upright way by which we can avoid severity on the Day of Judgment. Simply put, the way is for us to show mercy to others.

Now I don’t know about you, but I am going to need a lot of mercy on the Day of Judgment! So I am very glad that the Lord has shown us how we can positively influence the outcome on Judgment Day. Consider some of the following texts:

  1. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy (Matt 5:7).
  2. For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins (Matt 6:14-15).
  3. Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. But mercy triumphs over judgment (James 2:12-13).
  4. If a man shuts his ears to the cry of the poor, he too will cry out and not be answered (Proverbs 21:13).
  5. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven (Luke 6:37).
  6. For the measure with which you measure others, will be the measure by which you are measured (Mark 4:24).
  7. And finally there is the terrifying parable (too long to quote here) of the man who owed a huge debt to the king that he could never repay. And although the king cancelled the entire debt, the man refused to cancel the debt of a man who owed him a smaller amount. To this unmerciful man the king then decreed: ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’ In anger his master turned him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart” (Matt 18:32-35).

 

So the basic point is clear enough: if we want to be shown mercy when we are judged (and trust me, we’re all going to need a lot of it), then we need to pray for a merciful heart.

Let’s even go so far as to say that if anyone is harsh, mean-spirited, unforgiving, hypercritical, or condemning, he is a fool. He is simply storing up wrath for himself on the Day of Judgment. Now why would anyone want to do that?

Mercy is our only hope of avoiding strict judgment. And these texts show us that mercy here in this world will lead to mercy on Judgment Day.

It is true that there are times in this world when punishments must be issued and penalties assessed. Further, correction must be given to those in error. But to the degree that these are made with an eye to correction and reform, they are part of love and relate to mercy. Fraternal correction is a work of charity. It is better to suffer punishment in this world that leads to reform, than to evade punishment here and possibly end up in Hell. Thus, not all punishment/correction is excluded by the edict of mercy, but let love and mercy be the sources from which it comes.

So here is some advice to the wise: bury the hatchet now. Ask the Lord for a merciful and forgiving heart or else suffer the full force of a strict judgment. Pay attention! The judge is willing to be influenced on our behalf and has told us what will move him in our direction. Why hesitate any longer? The merciful are blessed because will be shown mercy. And without mercy, we don’t stand a chance.

Why Holy Days and the Sanctoral Cycle Are Important

Astronomical clock in Czech capital PragueIn last Sunday’s Mass we read from the eighth chapter of the Book of Nehemiah. I posted a lengthy commentary on it last week (On the Wonder of the Word of God). In today’s post I would like to ponder a rather surprising emphasis of that text. Let’s start with a little background.

In a stunning reversal for the Jewish people, the Babylonians invaded Jerusalem and destroyed not only the city, but the Temple as well! Prophet after prophet had warned the people of the Northern Kingdom of Israel and Judah that if they did not repent, God would permit punishments to come upon them in the form of destruction and exile. Those warnings were not heeded. The Northern Kingdom was destroyed in 721 B.C. and the end came for the Southern Kingdom of Judah in 587 B.C. The Temple of God lay in ruins and the survivors of the war were led captive into exile in Babylon. As they went they sang this song:

By the waters of Babylon,
there we sat down and wept,
when we remembered Zion.
On the willows
there
we hung up our lyres.
For there our captors
required of us songs,
and our tormentors, mirth, saying,
“Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How shall we sing the Lord’s song
in a foreign land?
If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand wither!
Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
above my highest joy!
(Psalm 137:1-6)

After 80 years the Lord lifted this exile by permitting Cyrus and the Persians to defeat the Babylonians. Not only did Cyrus allow the Jews to return to their land, he even offered monetary aid for the rebuilding of the city wall and the Temple.

Nehemiah chapter 8, from which we read last Sunday, describes a gathering of the refugees who had returned at which there was a reading from Scripture that convicted them of their sin, explained the exile, and set forth blessings. The passage that seems to have been read was from the Book of Deuteronomy. Apparently this book had been neglected by the Jews in the decades prior to exile. Their forgetfulness of it proved fateful, for in it was described the blessings of keeping the law and the terrible curses that would befall those rejecting it. Among the consequences of rejecting the law were destruction and exile.

Standing there that bright morning at the water gate listening to the book being read to them, the people began to weep uncontrollably (Neh 8:9). They realized that they and their fathers could have avoided all the ensuing death and pain had they but heeded God’s Word.

But then comes the surprising focus of the second half of the chapter. Surely there were many infractions of the Law that they and their forbearers had committed: false worship, idolatry, sins against the truth, sexual sins, injustice to the poor, theft, greed, and murder. But none of these many was the focus of the summons to repentance that follows in Nehemiah 8:13ff. Rather, the focus was on a certain feast day that they had failed to celebrate.

Not celebrating a feast day? Really? Of all the sins to focus on; failing to celebrate a feast day? Yes.

The feast that they had been neglecting was the Feast of Booths (or the Feast of Tabernacles). It was a feast that commemorated their time in the desert and the giving of the Law by Moses.

Certainly it was an important feast; in a way it symbolized the whole Law. To our modern minds, though, the neglect of a feast hardly seems worth mentioning when compared to some of the other sins listed above that we human beings routinely commit.

So what’s going on here? Why are feast days important? 

Most of us moderns do not pay much attention to sanctoral cycle that makes up the Church’s calendar. On this calendar are the feasts of saints as well as feasts that commemorate God’s saving acts: Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, Corpus Christi, the Annunciation, and so forth. To us these seem to be mere commemorations of events in the distant past; we do not use them to mark the passage of time. But the feasts of the Lord and His saints have value in our lives.

Prior to modern chronographic devices, people measured time by what God set forth: the sun, the moon, and the stars in their courses. But the feasts of the Lord that were also integral to their sense of time. Passover was an important feast, but so were many others: Pentecost, Tabernacles, the Day of Atonement, Rosh Hashanah, and especially the weekly Sabbath. God was the clock of the ancients.

This pattern continued into Christendom, when Sundays were cherished and feast days framed the year: Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and the great feasts of the saints: Peter and Paul, John the Baptist, Joseph, Mother Mary, and many local saints. Indeed many words have come into our vocabulary that describe the Catholic Calendar: “Christmas” comes from Christ + mass. “Carnival” comes from the Latin carnis (meat) + vale (farewell) and signifies the great feast at which the last of the meat and fat were used up before Lent; Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) has a similar origin. “Holiday” comes from Holy Day.

With secularization these feasts have vanished into the background altogether. Holy Days were replaced by the secular mispronunciation “holidays” and became largely secular in focus. Today, Labor Day and Memorial Day mark the bookends of people’s summer more so than do the Feasts of the Sacred Heart (first Friday in June) and the Assumption (August 15). Christmas and Easter are still there, but they feature candy canes and Santa Claus, eggs and a bunny—not Jesus.

What does celebrating feast and Holy Days say? What it says is this:

God, you are central in our lives. We tell time by what you have done. Every week begins on Sunday in your house. In all the feasts we remember your saving works of the past and permit those acts to be present to us. We give you thanks for what you have done; we remember and we praise you. We celebrate your place in our life and we frame our lives around what you have done in our time and in our history. We love you, Lord, and not only do we celebrate what you have done, we celebrate you; we gather to praise you in your holy house and give you glory every Sunday and feast day. You are part of our lives, you are integral to them. We make room for you at our tables and on our calendar. You are ever before us. We also praise you for what you have done in the lives of the saints and we celebrate their lives, too. Our lives intersect with your salvation history. We tell time by you and what you have done.

So feasts are important. And while restoring a lost feast day might not occur to us as the first thing to do based on the call to repentance in Nehemiah 8, perhaps now its symbolic meaning can shine more brightly.

What about us? It surely didn’t help that the bishops removed most of the feast days as days of obligation. But frankly, most Catholics had lost any sense that they were feasts at all, referring to them merely as “holy days of obligation.” Instead of being feasts that framed our lives and interpreted them, they became things that interfered with our lives. Instead of looking forward to Church feasts as days to celebrate, many found them more to be cursed for the obligation they imposed. We have become very busy—too busy for God. We are all in a big hurry; there’s not even any time to celebrate. God has been shoved to the margins in our culture. We tell time by artificial devices. Gone are the feasts. Gone from our hearts is the God to whom the feasts referred. Even the sun, moon, and stars are largely absent from our lives as we stare into our little devices.

In response to this forgetfulness of God, to this moving of Him to the margins, God sends this instruction through Nehemiah:

“This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep”—for all the people wept as they heard the words of the Law. Then he said to them, “Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Neh 8:9-10).

The text goes on to explain the reason for this instruction: it was the restoration of a lost feast.

[For] they found it written in the Law that the Lord had commanded by Moses that the people of Israel should dwell in booths during the feast of the seventh month … for from the days of Jeshua the son of Nun to that day the people of Israel had not done so. “Go out to the hills and bring branches of olive, wild olive, myrtle, palm, and other leafy trees to make booths, as it is written.” So the people went out and brought them and made booths for themselves, each on his roof, and in their courts … And all the assembly of those who had returned from the captivity made booths and lived in the booths … And there was very great rejoicing. … They kept the feast seven days, and on the eighth day there was a solemn assembly, according to the rule (Neh 8:14-19).

What feasts have we forgotten? What does that forgetfulness symbolize? Are we really so happy to be freed of the “burden” of keeping festival with the Lord? The people of the ancient world worked hard, probably a lot harder than we do. But they knew how to stop, rest, and enjoy the festivals of the Lord.

Our faith used to frame our lives, our culture, our calendar, and our whole sense of time.

Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s always laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
-Hilaire Belloc

What good is life without feasts? We have lost our way in the bland, secular calendar of Monday holidays and having relegated God to the periphery. What joys and hopeful reminders we have lost!

To every Christian and to the Church seeking rebuild a darkened culture comes this instruction, this admonition from Nehemiah 8 to remember the feasts of the Lord:

This day is holy to the Lord your God … do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord must be your strength! … And there was very great rejoicing.

Order – A Meditation on one of God’s Great Gifts

Blog1-26In this series of two posts, I ponder the glory of something we call order. I do this more in the form of a meditation than a treatise on the glory of order. In the first part (yesterday’s post) I set forth how the appreciation and understanding of order has suffered in the modern age. In this second part I want to meditate on the glory of order under four headings.

The English word “order” comes from the Latin ordo, which is a row or series ranked in some intelligible way. It indicates that something is arranged methodically toward some desired end or purpose. To give someone an order is to give authoritative direction for the purpose of attaining a willed outcome.

God has ordered all of creation. Things work together intricately to attain goals and fulfill purposes. And though this is evident to us who are believers, and should be evident even to those who do not believe in God, “order” can be a difficult thing to get our mind around. Therefore, permit me to paint four pictures or experiences of order drawn from the philosophical tradition. Again, my purpose is more meditative than intellectual. I hope to inspire in myself and in you, dear reader, a joy and serenity about the beautiful gift of order.

Here are four pictures of order:

I. Life is ordered energy. Consider the order of any living thing and be amazed. Some mysterious force we call “life” brings atoms, molecules, minerals, nutrients, tissue, and so forth together and organizes them with astonishing complexity (especially in higher life forms). Whole systems, macro- and micro-, interact in multiple ways and at many levels and thereby order (i.e., direct) living things to their purpose and goal. Life is ordered energy.

If you think you have life figured out, think again. Take a very simple example. Imagine an acorn. Now imagine a stone of similar shape and size. Externally they may look alike. But in the acorn is the mysterious spark we call life. Put the stone in the ground and years later nothing will have happened; it will still be a stone. But put the acorn in the ground and that mysterious spark we call life interacts with warmth and water. Years later the result will be a mighty oak tree with all of its complex processes up and running as it draws moisture and nutrients from the soil, and interacts with the environment around it through photosynthesis, pollination, and so forth. Life is ordered energy.

Take away that mysterious force we call life and disorder sets in almost immediately. I have experienced this mysterious departure of the organized energy we call life at more than a few bedsides. When someone breathes his last and the mysterious spark we call life departs with the soul, what exactly has happened? Scientifically, all we know is that the signs of life are gone. But the body does not weigh any less; we do not see a force lift up and move away. Something is gone, but not something that science can detect or measure. This is true even with the death of animals, trees, and plants.

Once that mysterious spark or force we call life departs, the body ceases to function in any orderly way. Processes stop, disorder and decay ensue, and the body (or life form) literally falls back to its basic elements. Life is ordered energy.

What a glorious thing is the order that life gives! The amazing interactions in our bodies at every level are simply astonishing. Life is ordered energy, but its origin is very mysterious. Surely it depends on the One who said, “I am life” (Jn 14:6), and who is existence itself. Surely someone sends life forth and summons it back. That someone we call God.

Of the LORD, Scripture says, See now that I myself am he! There is no god besides me. I deal death and I bring to life, I have wounded and I will heal, and no one can deliver from of my hand (Deut 32:39). The LORD brings death and makes alive; he brings down to the grave and raises up (1 Sam 2:6). Life is ordered energy.

Thank God for the mysterious and glorious order He gives to us that becomes life.

II. Beauty is the splendor of order. To see order and delight in it is to see a beauty beyond description, a beauty so vast and wide that our minds cannot comprehend it.

This is what we call the gift of wonder and awe, which is annexed to the gift of the fear of the Lord. We hold in awe the One who has done such things and established such order and purpose in all creation.

That order extends from the smallest units of matter outward and upward to the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Within our body, too, exists an order of multiple levels from the smallest parts of cells up through every structure and process of our body.

Order is beautiful and beauty is the splendor of order. Even in the narrower sense of human beauty and sexual attraction, the sense of beauty is connected to proportion, integrity, and clarity. In other words, we appreciate the way that different aspects of a person are integrated into the whole of who he/she is, how they are proportionate to each other, and the way that they allow the person’s humanity to shine forth physically in a way that attracts us.

All this, the beauty of the cosmos and the beauty of the human person, bespeaks order.

Yes, beauty is the splendor of order shining through! And thus we should bless the One whose beauty and order is reflected in what He has made! An old hymn says,

Lord of beauty, thine the splendor
shown in earth and sky and sea,
burning sun and moonlight tender,
hill and river, flower and tree:
lest we fail our praise to render
touch our eyes that they may see.

Beauty is the splendor of order.


III. Virtue is ordered love and desire. All of us are aware within ourselves of many passions, desires, and drives. They are more than just feelings; they are deep drives meant to orient us toward what is good and necessary, and cause us to seek such things.

Of themselves, the passions are good. However, since the fall of Adam and Eve our passions are unruly and often misdirected. As such, they are disordered.

To call them disordered means that they are not ordered (i.e., directed) to their proper end. This can happen in different ways. They can be disordered by excess. Desiring too much food can lead to the disorder of many health-related issues. Some passions become disordered by directing them to the wrong end. Sexual desire is meant to orient us toward a person of the opposite sex for the purpose of procreation and to develop the intimate bonds necessary to properly raise children. But many direct their sexual passions inappropriately through things like pornography, masturbation, fornication, and homosexual acts. Since these sorts of acts are not ordered toward the proper end, they are said to be “dis-ordered.”

Virtue is ordered love and desire. That is, virtues help us to properly order or direct our desires and loves toward the proper goal and to avoid excessive or disordered things. Natural virtues help us to gain self-mastery, by which we order our lives aright. Supernatural virtues help us to live under God’s authority and follow his godly order.

Virtues are the good habits that help us to order our lives, respecting our desires but understanding their true end or purpose. This leads to a life that is orderly, proportioned, and happier.

Vices, on the other hand, are those bad habits that introduce disorders into our life on the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual levels. They hinder us from our goals and our purposes. They do not order our life; they disorder it.

Yes, virtue is ordered love and desire.

IV. Peace is resting in order. This is another beautiful picture, a kind of “payoff” of order. Peace is the experience in one’s life that everything that should be in our relationship with God and others is there. It is the experience of order and the capacity to enjoy it with the stable, serene confidence that God’s order is beautiful, good, and true.

With the gift of peace, we see how true God is, how wonderful is His plan, and how beautiful is the order that comes from Him. By this comes a resting in this disposition that we call peace.

On the contrary, disorder introduces anxiety and many other negative thoughts and feelings that tear us apart and make us unstable and unhappy. Sin promises pleasure today, but the bill comes due tomorrow; there is always the bill to be paid. Knowing this deep down inside robs us of peace despite the momentary pleasures that sin offers. The unrepentant sinner finds little peace and growing anxiety.

God’s order gives peace, even if it challenges us to change. Peace is resting in order.

Allow these four pictures of order to fascinate you. See the beauty of order; orient your life toward it and to find peace through it.

God’s bestowal of order, too often dismissed by the modern world, is indeed a very great gift. Receive it with gratitude. “Order, order, order in the cosmos!” And in us, too.

Here is a beautiful hymn that sings of the order of the cosmos:

Order, Order! A Meditation on the Glory of Order in God’s Creation

In a series of two posts I would like to ponder the glory of something we call order. I do this more in the form of a meditation than a treatise. Some may argue that I am oversimplifying complex philosophical concepts. That may be true, but I am a pastor not an academic. And though I summarize here, I do not think I have been inauthentic in setting forth the concepts and problems that have birthed the modern age. My intended audience is people who seek some understanding of the mess we’re in today, but don’t have all day or all week to study it.

Thus permit me this meditation on the glory of order. In this first part, I set forth how the appreciation and understanding of order has suffered in the modern age. In part two (tomorrow’s post), I will meditate on the glory of order under four headings. For now, though, here is part one.

The English word “order” comes from the Latin ordo, which is a row or series ranked in some intelligible way. It indicates that something is arranged methodically toward some desired end or purpose. To give someone an order is to give authoritative direction for the purpose of attaining a willed outcome.

We live in times that are marked by increasing disorder. Socially, a lot of our disorder stems from the disorder at the heart of our families. As the family, the basic unit of society, breaks down, a fundamental order is lost; this brings disorder to the community, Church, state, and nation. But even here, there is a deeper disorder at work, more intellectual than merely social.

Intellectually, many today fail to appreciate order. Why is this?

In ancient and biblical times people saw the world as ordered by God and imbued with a wisdom that ordered it intricately. God created everything through His Word. He said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. By His Word (Logos) He spoke things into existence. But also by His Word He imbued everything with a logic (logike, a word that comes from Logos).

In the Old Testament this was known as the wisdom tradition. In the New Testament this vision is carried forward but with a glorious transposition, for the Word (Logos) became flesh and dwelt among us. Thus Jesus is the wisdom of God, the Second Person of the Trinity among us.

Yes, the ancient and biblical world saw creation as ordered. Jewish and Greek philosophers alike esteemed order and sought to learn from it. When chaos or disorder was noted it was seen as a departure from the normal order, as an anomaly, or as a paradoxical example of some deeper, hidden order.

This thinking and this respect for order continued largely intact from biblical times through the age of the Fathers and on to the High Middle Ages. God is a God of order. His creation, even this fallen version of it, bespeaks that order.

But this appreciation and understanding of order began to break down as early as the 14th Century with the rise of nominalism. Nominalism (from the Latin nomina (name)) was a theory of knowledge that came to dispute the existence of “universals.” Universals are the “form” in which similar things participate. For example, a tree participates in the universal we designate “treeness.” And while individual trees have unique qualities, they all share similarities in a basic form that we perceive as “treeness.”

As I stated above, this is not a philosophical paper and I cannot adequately summarize hundreds of years of debate in a paragraph, but fundamentally the nominalists (William of Occam, et. al.) argued that universals do not actually exist but rather are merely constructions or abstractions of the human mind. They are only names or categories into which we intellectually place things that are similar. In this case trees are stored in the category named “treeness.” (As an aside, the word nominalism comes from the Latin nomina, meaning name.)

Now whether “treeness” is real or just an abstraction may seem debatable and highly academic. But as nominalism became very influential in the 14th century, the focus started to shift away from the physical world to our minds. Reality used to be something we went out to meet, and having observed its order and its laws, learned from it and sought to base our thinking and our life upon what was actually out there.

After the dawn of nominalism, what we call reality became increasingly understood as more of a projection of the human mind than something that the human mind receives and learns to obey. As the centuries ticked by, man moved toward the center; creation and creation’s God were pushed to the edges. Perceived order came to be more of a projected order. And if man projects order and meaning then he can also change it. There is less to obey and more to command.

Welcome to the beginnings of the modern age and the seeds of thinking that one can, for example, create reality by deciding whether one is male or female, rather than determining it from the obvious physical data. Of course all of this took time to trickle down through the centuries, through the Cartesian divide and the Enlightenment.

Increasingly gone was the notion that order existed in creation and could easily be discovered and obeyed. The human mind, not creation, was the locus of order. Darwin spoke of creation having evolved, not out of order and someone who ordered it, but as the result of blind, random chance. There was thus no order, intelligent cause, purpose, or finality to be discovered. It was just all there by chance.

All sorts of other movements (e.g., nihilism) came from the shift that nominalism introduced, the shift of focus from reality to the mind. Since order could not be discovered and agreed upon, but rather just existed in the minds of individuals, the result was disorder, the tyranny of relativism, and a sort of despair in the modern age that anything really has intrinsic or universal meaning at all. The mind is a very lonely place when we sever it from what God has set forth in the Book of Creation and in His revealed Word.

As a believer, I have strongly resisted these modern notions, rooted ultimately in nominalism. I cannot say that I haven’t been influenced by such notions, but I have consistently resisted them since early adulthood. To me, the world shouts, “Order, order, order! I was designed! Come and meet my designer!”

Order is a beautiful thing. In creation God’s order is deep and intricate, vast and wide. It is apparent in the vastness of the entire cosmos and in the intricate workings of cells, molecules, and atoms. What glorious order is all about us! Discovering God’s order, I find peace, meaning, and order in my own life. Reverence for God’s order, an order that is actually out there and not just in my mind, gives me joy and helps me to trust. God has a plan. God has a purpose for every human person as well as for creation itself. Creation does not exist merely in my mind. It is an aspect of what God has created and permeates it. It is “out there” to be discovered and obeyed. It reaches my mind and includes my mind, but it is not just in my mind; it is actually there in what God has made through His Logos, which gives it a logike (logic) that I discover.

In tomorrow’s post, I will offer a brief spiritual meditation on order under four different headings that help to define the experience of order in practical ways:

  1. Life is ordered energy.
  2. Beauty is the splendor of order.
  3. Virtue is ordered love.
  4. Peace is resting in order.

Here are some words related to order/disorder:

Chaos – utter confusion. It comes from the late-Greek word khaos, referring to the primeval emptiness of the universe; this was as opposed to Kosmos, the ordered Universe. The extended sense of chaos (the void at the beginning of creation) has thus come to mean “orderless” confusion.

Pandæmonium (pan- (all) + daemonium (evil spirit)) literally means “all demon.” More figuratively it means “demons everywhere.” John Milton coined the word in Paradise Lost as the name of the palace built in the middle of Hell.

Anarchy – without a ruler, chief or principal

Disarray – lack of arrangement or order

Discord – without a common heart (dis (without) + cor (heart))

Disorder – without order

Lawlessness – the state of living apart from law