On the”Beauty”of Dying

In the Gospel from this past Sunday the Lord spoke of us giving away all we had to come and follow him. TO many that sort of talk seems crazy and we wonder how we can ever do it. But in fact we WILL all do it, as we finally die to this world and have our only treasure in Heaven.

As a priest it has been my privilege to accompany many on their final journey as they prepare for death. Some have gone quickly, others have lingered for years in nursing homes. From a pure worldly perspective, death seems little less than a disaster and a cause for great sadness. But from a perspective of faith there is something “beautiful” going on.

I know you may think it bold that I describe it this way, but in the dying process something necessary and beautiful is taking place. It is born in pain but it brings forth gifts and glory if we are faithful.

In particular I see two scriptures essentially fulfilled in many who are dying.

I. And Jesus said, “Unless you change and become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 18:3). When I walk the halls of nursing homes I behold a rather astonishing thing: Men and women who raised families, ran businesses, protested bravely in the Civil Rights Movement, fought wars, gave sage advice to their children, commanded respect in their workplace and communities…, most of these have become like little children.

Some can no longer walk, some need to be fed, some cry and need consolation, some hold dolls, many wear diapers, some can no longer talk, many need constant care. “Ah, how tragic,” the world says. But an increasing part of me sees a beauty, for they are changing and becoming like little children. A kind of innocence is being restored, and a complete dependence, without which they may never make it to heaven. Now their status as little children is fully evident and they become humble enough for heaven.

Painful but beautiful, very beautiful.

A very dear friend of mine died a few years ago. Catherine had been the Pastoral Associate and business manger of the parish of my first pastorate. I depended on her for practically everything, and she knew just about everything, having been at the parish for over 50 years. Rather suddenly, she came down with a rare and aggressive form of Alzheimer’s disease. Within six months of diagnosis she no longer remembered anyone. And yet there was a childlike joy that came over her. She had a favorite doll she hugged close and when I would walk in the room she would light up. She no longer recognized me as far as I could tell but she loved company. And she would sing, without clearly understood words but it seemed a kind of childlike nursery song.

A remarkable thing to see. Here was a woman I had so thoroughly depended on now in such a state. But she was happier than I had ever seen her. She had become like a little child, and it was clear that God was preparing her for heaven. That was a gift, though a painful one.

And another great gift was this: Almost to her last day, she never failed to recognize Jesus in the Eucharist. Long after she had stopped recognizing anyone else, she still received communion with great devotion. She might be humming or looking around, but as soon as I reached in my pocket for the pyx, she stopped, looked and made the sign of the cross and folded her hands. That was years of training and faithfulness. It was a beautiful testimony of her undying faith in the Eucharist and her last lesson to all of us.

II. There is only one thing I ask of the Lord, this alone I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life and gaze on the beauty of the Lord within his temple.(Psalm 27:4)

Now I suppose most of us who are still healthy and reasonably active would have a hard time really praying this prayer absolutely. The fact is we want a lot of things: a pay increase, creature comforts, good health, we want for the project we are working to go well, and yes, somewhere in all that, God too and heaven, but later. You understand, heaven can wait.

And yet how obtuse our desires can be. It’s really quite strange to want anything more than God and heaven, but, fact is, many struggle to want God more than the things of this earth. Somehow God has to gently purge us of earthly desires so that, little by little, all we want is Him.

And here too the dying process is so important and beautiful. Little by little in life we give back to God our abilities, our health, many of our loved ones. And finally we are led to that place in our dying days when we are given the grace to give everything back.

I remember my father saying to me in his final weeks, “I just want to be with God.” I heard my grandmother say that too, and many other I have accompanied on their final journey, “I just want to be with God.” And they meant it too. It wasn’t a slogan now. They had given everything back, their treasure was now in heaven. They had sold all they had for the “pearl of great price.” Now they could sing the words of the old spiritual: “You may have all this world, just give me Jesus.”Indeed, they had sold, given away, everything they had, and now they were ready to follow Jesus.

For just about all of us it will take the dying process to get us to the place where we too can say, “There is only one thing I ask of the Lord, this alone I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life and gaze on the beauty of the Lord within his temple.”

And so there it is, the “beauty” of dying. It is a strange and painful beauty to be sure, but it is beautiful nonetheless. In an age of euthanasia that sees no purpose, no value in the dying process, we do well to behold and proclaim its strange but true beauty. We ought not fail to recognize the dignity of the dying who fulfill scripture as they make their final passage.

Surely we grieve, but through faith we also perceive a strange and wonderful beauty.

One of the finest hymns about dying was written by Henry F. Lyte in 1847. He wrote this as he approached his own death from tuberculosis:

  • Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
  • The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
  • When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
  • Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.
  • Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
  • Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
  • Change and decay in all around I see—
  • O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
  • Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
  • Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
  • Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
  • In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Welcome to the Golden Age of the Liturgy

A couple months back, I wrote an article asking, what What was the Golden Age of the Liturgy? For it would seem, that every period has had its challenges, and also, it’s good points. The question of what is the golden year, the paradigm,  is most pertinent among traditional Catholics, who largely regard the Golden age of the liturgy to be at some point in the past.

Though the Traditional Latin Mass is celebrated according to the form it had in 1962, most traditional Catholics would set the ideal year, the Golden age, long before that. Yet, there is great debate as to what that year should be. Informal inquiry among traditional friends of mine yielded various results. Many look back to the mid-1940s, still others set the date at the turn of the last century, with Pius X’s reforms. Still others, go back to the 16th century, just after Trent , still others all the way back the 5th century.

Recently however a priest friend of mine, a priest and friend I consider to be very solid and thoughtful, asked me to consider that this is the golden age of the liturgy. He is a priest, about 10 years older than I, but ordained later, a fine musician, classically trained, well read in Latin and Biblical Greek, and well acquainted with the history of the Church. His contention, that this is a golden age of the liturgy, is evidenced by his observation that, perhaps as never before, many are deeply engaged, and well aware of the critical questions of the liturgy, and have a highly developed sense of their own role in the worship of God.

He does not root his vision merely in modern notions of the liturgy. For indeed, there is all whole cadre of laypeople concerned for, and devoted to, the Traditional Latin Mass. Yet unlike many of their forbearers who attended the Latin Mass, say in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s, they are passionately involved, and follow the liturgy carefully through the use of their missals, and their awareness of liturgical details, details of which their grandparents were either unaware, or uninterested.

It is also true that there are others engage in more modern forms of the liturgy, but who are also passionate, involved, and aware of their legitimate roles. There are lectors, who are well-trained, there are Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion (I know, I know) who are needed, and aware of their role and the limits of their involvement. Servers, ushers, and choir members are also involved, active, and increasingly, well-trained.

Clergy too, especially younger clergy, are more aware of the rubrics, and the meaning of liturgical customs, and carefully observant of them. This goes for both the older, Traditional Latin Mass, and for the Ordinary Form. It is also far more common for the clergy to teach and draw the faithful into the deeper meaning in the liturgy.

Yes, both clergy and laity, are increasingly attentive and conscientious in terms of their role and the meaning of the liturgy. There is a greater flourishing of traditional forms of the liturgy as well as legitimate and diverse forms of the ordinary form of the Mass.

I know, some of you will say “But father, but Father! What about the dancing girls, what about too many Eucharistic ministers, what about… what about…” I will not deny that there are abuses, and excesses in modern expressions of the liturgy. But the dirty little secret is, there have always been such things.

Get in your time machine and go with the to the 1940s. Yes, even then, there were problems: mumbled Latin, rushed hurried gestures, half genuflections by the priest, poor sermons, and completely omitted sermons, 22 minute Masses, even on a Sunday morning, the rejection of Gregorian chant as “too complicated” and the replacing of it with poorly sung, even bellowed recto tono (usually 8th tone) chanting by Mrs. Murphy in the choir loft. The overall refusal of the sung liturgy in favor of low mass, to a fault. True, every mass could not be sung, but at least one, preferably several masses on Sunday should have been sung. But rarely were they, and up to a dozen masses were celebrated in the local parish all before noon (upper church and lower church – 6:00 am, 6:30, 7:00, 7:30, 8:00, 8:30, 9:00 (upper and lower church), 9:30 (upper and lower church), 10:00 (sung), 11:00, 11:30), often rather rushed, hurried and in a kind of mass production, factory sort of way. Some of the priest from that era tell me they’d go out and start distributing communion at the rail right after the homily while the priest went up to the altar and said the current Mass.

Few Catholics in those days were aware of many of the abuses and short cuts. Much was hidden, under poorly pronounced and mumbled Latin, rushed and hurried low masses etc. But the older priests assure me, priests that I trust, (not haters of the “bad old days,”) that things were often not beautiful in those days.

Neither today are things always beautiful. But now, as then, there are good things, and many are in fact engaged quite deeply in the celebration of the sacred liturgy. It is a sad truth that attendance is low, perhaps as low as 20% of Catholics on a given Sunday. But among those who do attend there is increasing awareness of what we do and why. We can only ask that this will grow. Abuses in liturgical practice must continue to be addressed in loving, but clear ways.

But I wonder, if perhaps my priest friend isn’t right. Perhaps we are in a golden age today.

I was privileged today to  celebrate the novus ordo (ordinary form) on two occasions, and then, in the evening, to celebrate the Traditional Latin Mass. All three congregations were engaged, aware, and excited about the liturgy that was celebrated. There was fine music, though from different traditions, at all three masses. There was traditional hymnody, a youth choir, gospel music, a Latin Gregorian schola, and a choir that sang Renaissance Polyphony.

I cannot tell you how blessed I feel, how it enriched, how excited I am to celebrate the sacred liturgy in all these different ways. I walk in a wider, and more diverse church then perhaps my brethren from the 40s and 50s would ever have imagined. But I wonder too how many  of them would have heard a full Gregorian Schola singing from an unabridged Liber Usualis, and a full setting Renaissance Polyphonic Mass by Lassus by a 30-voice choir,  back in 1946, as I did today.

Yes, I have the best of the old and the best of the new. I am a man most blessed. The people I love, all from very different traditions, love the liturgy, they love the Lord, and they encounter him in every Mass in ways quite rich and  wonderful.

Maybe this is the golden age of the liturgy. Before you shake your head and wonder, “Is he insane!?” I ask you to consider if per chance you might know of an era of greater engagement and diversity. Perhaps you do not care for “diversity,” and would like the Mass to be in only one form. But be careful! For the form that might prevail might not be the exact form you prefer. Maybe diversity is okay, maybe it is what God knows is best for his Church now.

Maybe this is a golden age. Think about it…

The follow video I put together a couple of years ago wherein I pondered that maybe the TLM and more modern “charismatic” forms of the liturgy are not so far apart after all.

Photo credit; Bishop Slattery celebrating Novus Ordo, ad orientem in Tulsa Cathedral.

Picturesque Papa – Fun Pictures of Pope Benedict

I dunno why, It just looks funny to see the Pope on the Phone:

 

Suggested caption: “No! Really this is the Pope! I really mean it! Please deliver three pizzas, extra cheese and Italian Sausage… No really! I am not kidding. This is me!”

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Anyway here’s a little video I put together a few years back, some humorous pictures of the Pope. He is a very photogenic man. The music starts a little late on the video, but it does come.

What to Do When Things Don’t Make Sense

One of the more plaintive cries in the Bible is found in Psalm 13. When I read it in the Latin Breviary,  somehow its impact is stronger, more sorrowful:

Usquequo Domine?! Oblivisceris me in finem, usquequo avertis faciem tuam a me? Quamdiu ponam consilia in anima mea, dolorem in corde meo per diem? Usquequo…! (How long O Lord! Will you forget me unto the end?! How long will you turn your face away from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul, and sorrow in my heart all the day? How long!?) Psalm 13:1-2

There are just those times in our life when things don’t make sense, and we wonder why,  and seeing no end in sight, we wonder how long. It is not just the suffering, it is not knowing why or how long, that intensifies the agony and makes up most of its content.

The theologian Jacques Philippe well describes the experience of this way:

In situations of trial, not knowing why we are being tested is often harder to bear than the testing itself. “What is the meaning?” People ask. “Why?” and they get no answer. When, by contrast, reason is satisfied, suffering is much easier to accept. It is like the doctor who hurts us–we don’t get angry with him because we understand that he does it to make us better. (Interior Freedom – Kindle Edition, 547-69)

Yes, it’s not knowing why or how long that is often the worst part. Our questions are not without merit, and God even seems to sanctify them by including them in the prayer book he inspired, the Book of Psalms. Yes, asking “Why,” & “How much longer!?”  is part of our dignity, and our fundamental makeup. Again as Jacques Philippe notes:

Man has a thirst for truth, a need to understand, that is part of human dignity and greatness. To despise intelligence, its capacities, and its role in the human spiritual life would be unjust. Faith cannot do without reason; and nothing is more beautiful than the possibility given man of cooperating in the work of God…when our minds grasp what God is doing, what he is calling us to, how he is teaching us to grow, enable us to cooperate fully with the work of grace.… It is therefore good and right that we want to understand the meaning of everything in our lives. (ibid).

And so yes, our questions “why,” and “how long,” are understandable, even sanctified.

That said, even though our questions are valid, it does not mean that we will always get an answer. Indeed, our need to know everything requires some purification, some understanding of the limits of our ability to know.

On the one hand, there are some things that are not for us to know. For example if someone offends or harms us, we may call out for God and ask why. And yet, it is not God’s role, and might even be inappropriate for God, to reveal to us the secrets of another’s heart, their motives, and what the personal histories and hurts were that may have led them to act in a certain way. Frankly, there are some things that are simply not for us to know, that are none of our business.

Then too, there are other things, that are beyond our ability to know, such that, even if God did tell us why, all we would hear would be thunder. To some extent this is the answer that God gave Job, when Job asked “why” in reference to his sufferings. God reminded Job of all the magnificent things that He, the Lord, had done. He told Job, in effect, that if Job could understand all these things, then perhaps He, the Lord, would answer Job why things were going bad for Job and why the Lord had permitted it. And thus, Job realized that the answer to the question “why” was beyond him.

Strangely enough, I have often had this truth illustrated for me in the interactions that I have had with my pets. Recently, it was time for me to take my cat, Daniel, to the vet, something he dreads. Suddenly, in an instant, I appeared to him as an enemy, swooping down upon him, and placing him in a carrying cage. He cried with protest, meowing and caterwauling with such volume that the neighbors looked out their windows as I brought him to the car. All the way to the vet he bellowed, he cried, meowed, moaned and, caterwauled. I tried to explain to him,

“Daniel, it will be just fine, we’re just going to the vet to get a few shots that you need, and to get a quick checkup. You’ll be home in an hour!”

But Daniel is just a cat, he does not speaking English, and thus, all he heard from me was thunder. Nothing I would say could satisfy him. Indeed, I could not satisfy him with an answer, I could not console him, for he has only a cat brain which cannot understand the larger concepts like health, like the notion “temporary.”  No, for him it was two hours of sheer terror, terror he did not understand or know when it would end. And, until we returned to the rectory and I opened the cage door in the familiar living room, he would not, he could not, understand or be consoled.

I think it is like this was God and us. Though our minds are certainly more rational than that of a cat, when it comes to comparing our puny minds to God, and the cat’s puny mind to God, I’m not sure the difference is that great. There are many things that God knows that we can not hope to know, things that he sees that we cannot hope to see. And were He to say, “I am doing thus and so, and this is why,” we would have no greater understanding of what he was saying than my cat does of me as I try to explain the terrifying car ride.

So, it is not wrong for us to ask why, and how long. Again, it is part of our dignity. But in the end, there is only so much we can know. Some things are just not of our business. Other things, are way above our pay grade. And God cannot reduce to mere human words what he is doing and whereof he acts.

In cases such as these serenity can only be found in finally acknowledging, and accepting that there are some things we cannot know, and that is enough that God knows what He is doing, and whereof he acts.

Jesus once told the apostles What I am doing, you do not understand now, but afterward he will understand (Jn 13:7). He also spoke to them of the day that they would see him again, and said, On that day, you will have no more questions to ask me (Jn 16:23). For now, there are plenty of questions, and only some answers. It is enough Lord, it is sufficient that you know.

Jesus, I trust you!

What St. Paul’s example as both believer and Bishop can teach us about authority

In the readings for daily Mass the past few days we have been reviewing the faith journey of St. Paul who describes his personal history and also his authority in the second chapter of the Letter to the Galatians. The story is interesting for three reasons.

  1. It can help correct notions that some have of Paul’s rapid assent to the office of apostle (Bishop) and affirm that he was not a lone-ranger apostle. He was a man who was formed in the community of the Church for some length of time, and did not go on Mission until he was sent.
  2. It spells out Paul’s relationship to authority within the Church.
  3. It shows forth an important aspect of being under authority and the prevailing need for fraternal correction in hierarchical structures.

Let’s take a look at each of these matters in turn.

1. On Paul’s conversion, formation and ascent to the office of Apostle (Bishop). Many have oversimplified notions of Paul’s conversion, and subsequent missionary activity. Many who have not carefully studied the texts of Acts, Galatians, and other references assume that Paul went right to work after his conversion as a missionary. But this was not the case.

At the time near his conversion Paul was described as “a young man” (neanias). Sometime after the death of Stephen he had his conversion, encountering the risen Christ on the road to Damascus. Immediately following his encounter with Christ he was blinded for three days and eventually healed by a Christian named Ananias who also baptized him (Acts 9:9-19).

Hereafter, according to Galatians, Paul went into the Desert of Arabia (Gal 1:17). Why he went, and for how long is not known. It is probably not wrong to presume that he went there to reflect and possibly be further formed in the Christian faith to which he had come so suddenly and unexpectedly. Was he there for several years as some scholars propose or just a brief time as others do? It is not possible to say with certainty but it would seem that some amount of time would be necessary to pray, reflect and experience formation in the Christian way, possibly with other Christians. A period of at least a year seems tenable and perhaps as many as three years. We can only speculate.

Paul then returned to Damascus and joined the Christian community there for a period of almost three years (Gal 1:18). While there he took to debating in the synagogues and was so effective in demonstrating that Jesus was the hoped for Messiah that some of the Jews there conspired to kill him.

He fled the city and went to Jerusalem (Acts 9:20-25). Paul states that he went there to confer with Cephas (Peter) (Gal 1:18). Paul seems to imply that he thought it was time to confer with Peter since he had begun to teach and even now was gaining disciples. Later he would describe the purpose of another visit to Peter and the other leaders: to present the Gospel that I preach to the Gentiles…so that I might not be running, or have run in vain (Gal 2:2). While there on this first visit he stayed for 15 days and also met James.

After this consultation he went home to Tarsus for a period of about three years. What he did during this time is unknown.

Barnabas then arrived and asked him to come to Antioch and help him evangelize there (Acts 11:25-26). He stayed there about a year.

He made another brief visit to Jerusalem to deliver a collection for the poor.

Upon his return to Antioch we finally see his ordination as a Bishop. The leaders of the Church at Antioch were praying and received instruction from the Holy Spirit to Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them (Acts 13:3). Thus, the leaders of the Church there laid hands on Barnabas and Saul and send them forth on Mission. Here we have an ordination and the source of Paul’s status as Apostle (bishop).

Notice however, this sending happens years after Paul’s conversion. Depending on how long we account his time in the desert we are talking about 7-10 years wherein Paul lived in community with other members of the Church and also conferred with Peter. He was not a self appointed missionary and his conversion required completion before the Church sent him forth. This going-forth he undertook only after being sent.

2. On Paul’s submission to authority We can see therefore, that Paul was not a lone ranger. He did submit what he taught to Peter and later to others apostles and leaders (Acts 11 & 15). He states that to have preached something other than what the Church proposed would be to run “in vain” (Gal 2:2).

Here was a man who was formed by the community of the Church and who submitted his teachings to scrutiny by lawful authority.

Sent – Here was man who went forth on his missions only after he was ordained and sent.

Appointed other leaders – Further, Paul and Barnabas, as they went through the towns and villages on their missionary journeys, also established authority in each church community they founded by appointing presbyters in each town (Acts 14:23).

Upon completion of their first missionary journey they reported back to the leaders at Antioch who had sent them (Acts 14:27) and later to the apostles in Jerusalem (Acts 15). Hence we have an accountability structure in the early Church and a line of authority. Paul was no independent operator, or self appointed, self ordained leader. He both respected authority and established authority in the churches he established. He also makes it clear to the Galatians and others that he has authority and that he expects them to respect it.

3. But here is where we also see a fascinating and somewhat refreshing portrait of what true respect for authority includes. It is clear, from what we have seen, that Paul respected the authority of Peter and had both conferred with him early on and later set forth the gospel that he preached. However, there is also a description of Paul offering fraternal correction to Peter:

When Peter came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly in the wrong. Before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they arrived, he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group. The other Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that by their hypocrisy even Barnabas was led astray. When I saw that they were not acting in line with the truth of the gospel, I said to Peter in front of them all, “You are a Jew, yet you live like a Gentile and not like a Jew. How is it, then, that you force Gentiles to follow Jewish customs? (Gal 2:11-14)

There is something refreshing about this understanding of authority. It understands that having authority does not mean one is above reproof. Too many people shy away from speaking honestly to those in authority. There is an old saying about bishops: When a man becomes a bishop he will never again have a bad meal and he will never again hear the truth. Too many of us flatter those who have authority. In so doing we tend to isolate them. They do not have all the information and feedback they need to make good decisions. And then, we they do make questionable decisions we criticize them. Of course we seldom do this to their face. Rather we speak ill of them behind their back and continue to remain largely silent and flattering to their face. The cycle continues, and everyone suffers.

But here Paul stands face to face (κατὰ πρόσωπον αὐτῷ ἀντέστην) with Peter and accuses him of a moral fault. Peter had taught rightly of the equality of the Gentiles but drew back from keeping company with them. We as Catholics teach of the infallibility of the pope but we do not teach that he is impeccable (sinless). Even those who teach rightly (as Peter did) sometimes struggle to fully live the truth they preach.

Accountability in the Church demands that we learn to speak the truth to one another in love, even if the one we must speak to has authority. People are often reticent to speak frankly to their Pastors. Bishops too are often isolated in this way. Even their priests often refrain from frank discussion of issues. In this Archdiocese I know that Archbishop Wuerl is very serious about consultation and he enjoys a vigorous airing of issues at the priest council, and other consultative bodies.

Clearly correction and/or frank discussion should be done charitably, but it should be done. Now Paul here is a little bolder than I would be, but he also lived in a different culture than I. As we can see from the Gospels and other writings Jesus and the Apostles really “mixed it up” with others. The ancient Jewish setting was famous for frank and vivid discussion of issues that included a lot of hyperbole. Our own culture prefers a more gentle approach. Perhaps the modern rule is best stated: Clarity with Charity.

Clarity – In the end, we show a far greater respect for authority by speaking clearly and directly to those in authority. False flattery is unhelpful, inappropriate silence does not serve, and speaking scornfully behind the backs of others is just plain sinful.

Charity – Again, this does not exclude the need for charity and proper respect both for age and for office. I have sadly found that those who have wished to correct priests and bishops in our current setting often go to the other extreme, using bold, disrespectful, even insulting language, name calling and impugning of motives. This is not necessary, and especially in our our culture is also ineffective.

So Paul demonstrates a sort of refreshing honesty with Peter here. He acknowledges Peter’s authority as we have seen but also respects Peter enough as a man to speak with him directly and clearly, to his face, and not behind his back.

This video is a brief summary of St. Paul’s life. Most scholars don’t agree with the concluding remark that Paul made it out of Roman prison and went to Spain. But there are two traditions in this regard:

A Thousand Miles Wide and two inches Thick. A meditation on the importance of depth and promixity in life

One of the dangers to avoid in life is that things become 1000 miles wide and only 2 inches thick. Sometimes, it is better to have a few things, and experience them in depth, than to have many things but experience only the surface of them.

One of the most obvious and glaring examples of this, is our experience today of community. It is surely at least a thousand miles wide, indeed, its expanse is  global. But how deep for rich is it?  As never before, we can communicate at the global level.  I am aware for example, that people who read this blog, read from all over the world, in every time zone, on every continent in many countries.  On Facebook, I have 5000 friends, my YouTube page is also well visited and my recorded sermons are on iTunes. I’m “out there” in the “virtual world” and thousands also connect with me through their sites and projects and videos. I “know” and “interact” with a lot of people. Worldwide, instant communication with large numbers.

And in speaking about myself, I am likely describing you as well. Take a few pictures and, shazam , they’re out there on Google+, Picasa and Facebook and 500 people might see them in moments. If you write an article or read one, quick, (or should I say “Tweet”) you send the link and hundreds or thousands get it. Talk about communication!

But in all this communication, how deep is the communion? As never before we are “connected” but where is the experience of connectedness, of true community, of communion? Consider:

1. Most families rarely sit down to dinner together.

2. Courtship and marriage are becoming difficult and even rare. I cannot tell you how often that young people tell me today how hard it is hard to “meet” anyone. Though the opportunities seem greater due to easy transportation and communication devices, the actual “in-depth” experience implied by the term “meet” someone, is harder to come by.

3. Promiscuity, “hooking up,” are destructive of the deeper summons to intimacy,  and casual dating, and/or the predominance of mere “group” gatherings, have tended to erode the older notion of “going out on a date” and dating steadily in preparation for marriage.

4. Indeed, 40% of women today have never been married, and if you poll only women age twenty-five to forty the number is closer to 60%. Most couples who do finally get married, postpone that now until the early to mid thirties. And smaller numbers of those who finally do get married struggle to stay married. Of all women married today, only 36% of them are in their first marriage. Thus, in summary, marriage is rarer, later, and less successful than ever before. [1]

5. Smaller families – I goes without saying, with marriage being in such crisis that birthrates have plummeted, and the internal community of the family is a smaller and less rich experience than the larger nuclear and extended families of the past.

6. Most people no longer attend community meetings and seldom interact with their neighbors. Church attendance is not the only form of community meeting that has declined, in terms of numbers attending.

7. Few roots – Most people do not live and die in the community they grew up in, or work for the same company the whole of their career, but are more constantly on the move from job to job and place to place.

8. Fewer anchor institutions – Increasing numbers of Americans do not attend a neighborhood school, but go to “magnet” schools, private schools, or other far flung schools.

9. Increasing numbers of Catholics do not go to their neighborhood parish. In fact only 25% of Catholics go to Church at all. And of those who still go, increasing numbers commute to specialized parishes featuring particular “mixes” of preaching, liturgy, ethnic factors etc. The parish a Catholic attends may often be no where near where they live.

And thus we have modern life, a thousand miles wide but often less than two inches thick, a life that is increasingly “virtual,” far flung, highly selective and insular, outwardly focused but inwardly impoverished, rich in diversity, but poor in depth, filled with acquaintances but short on intimacy.

There are innumerable factors that have given rise to this modern experience. But in this post, I’d just like to emphasize one, and that is simply, “contiguity” or proximity.

“Contiguity” is here understood as the condition of being physically close, (from the Latin Contingere meaning to touch, or border upon, con (with) + Tangere (touch)).

“Proximity” comes also from the Latin proxima meaning near or neighbor.

We human beings are “Body-persons” That is to say, we are persons whose substance includes (but is not limited to) the physical dimension of reality. Having a body locates us in space. And, since our bodies are tied to the physical order there are going to be some limits that pertain to our ability to relate to others. Though we are able to be very mobile today, working and living thirty miles apart is still a huge factor in our lives, especially if there is traffic. Where ever “there” is, it is still going to take us time to get there, and the further things are physically apart, the more difficult it is going to be for us to have deep relationships with people who are “there.”

There is an inverse proportion between physical distance and things like involvement, attachment, passion, and connectedness. And, as we widen the physical coverage of our lives, the depths of our relationships narrow and become more shallow.

As a pastor, who knows the increasing concept of the “commuter parish” it is clear, in talking with my brother priests, that is much harder to engage people to enter more deeply into parish life through things like devotions, Bible study, religious ed for children, works of charity and community involvement.

Thus, while a parish may be blessed to have those who still attend due to things like historical ties, music and liturgical preferences, and other things like preaching and leadership skills by pastor or staff, the simple fact is, “commuter parishes” often go very silent in the mid-week.

Commuter parishioners also attend mass less often. That twenty to thirty minute commute, driving by five or six parishes on the way, is very easily disturbed by things like weather, getting up a little late, not being able to find one of the kid’s shoes etc. And though a parent might be devoted to a far flung parish, say  because it offers the traditional Latin Mass, their children my not be as connected, and they will not meet other children as easily, will probably not attend the parish school, or go to as many youth related events.

Why this lesser connection of commuters parishioners?  Because paved roads and sleek autos aside, thirty miles is still thirty miles. Even fifteen miles is going to take at least 30 minutes. It’s just a big factor for us “body-persons.”

There’s just something about contiguity, about being physically close to what matters in our life. Without a good amount of contiguity, and proximity, depth and quality suffer a LOT. Not being connected to the physical neighborhoods in which we live, and emphasizing far flung relationships or (worse) virtual ones, mean that a lot of depth and intimacy is lost. There’s just something about living close to the people we know that helps us know them better.

And while physical locale may limit the numbers and types of people we know, the depths of those relationships can be far better. In the “old days” so many spouses met simply by going to the local burger joint, or soda shop on a frequent basis, simply meeting by shopping at the same stores, or going to the same movie theaters. In the “old days” there was a lot more emphasis on the local high school dance, the football game, and other local things like parades, carnivals, etc. And when people were met at occasions like this, there was a stronger likelihood that they’d be able to follow up and meet again since “neighborhood” is just another way of saying, “the nearby hood”

There’s just something about being physically close. It’s part of the way we are made, as spiritual AND physical beings. And wandering too far afield, or casting our net too widely, has the cumulative effect of reducing the depths to which we experience life and people.

With all our mobility and far-flung interests, both actual and “virtual” we run the risk of a life that is a thousand miles wide and two inches thick.

Working with the Preacher

We Catholic priests are not usually known for outstanding preaching. True, there are some among us who are gifted preachers, but as a group we compare poorly with Protestant Preachers at least insofar as delivery and creativity go.
 
I have commented elsewhere on the problem of poor preaching in our beloved Catholic Church(http://blog.adw.org/2009/07/uh-oh-catholic-preaching/) .
 
 
What I would like to do here is to note that the quality of preaching is not only dependent on the preacher but is also dependent upon the congregation. In our critique of Catholic preaching we tend to weigh in heavily on the priests’ shortcomings. But in this article I’d like to propose that our congregations in our parishes also have a role improving Catholic preaching.

My own experience as a priest powerfully underscores the role of congregation in helping to craft the preaching moment. I have served almost all of my 20 years in African American parishes. In these settings the congregation takes an active part in the preaching moment. Acclamations and affirmations such as “Amen!” “Go on!” “Make it plain preacher” “Hallelujah,” and the like are common. Hands are often raised in silent affirmation, nods of the head move through the congregation. Now all of this affects the preaching moment powerfully for me and helps it take shape and come to life.

There is also an air of expectation in the church as the Homily moment arrives. African American congregations want a good sermon and are eager to hear what the preacher will say. People expect to hear a word that will change them. I have heard some in the African American community refer to tangible energy in the room as “the hum.”

That there are high expectations of me is both encouraging and challenging. That I am expected to do well means I have to prepare, I have to pray, I have to summon my talent, memory for scripture and experience of culture and weave them into a homily that is from the heart but well prepared. High expectations encourage me to strive for sermons that are not just adequate but also aimed at the superlative. And the beauty is that it is not all up to me. The congregation knows its role and they pray and work with me when I preach and together we form a kind of partnership.

To be sure, I am the one who teaches with the authority that Holy Orders confers. But I am not alone, delivering a monologue of sorts to a largely passive audience. All this brings the preaching moment much more to life. There is an enthusiasm in the congregation that is contagious and leads me to enthusiasm for what I say.

A final observation here of mine would be the question of length. The usual length of a sermon in the African American Parishes is closer to a half an hour unlike the 10-12 minute lengths expected elsewhere. It is a great luxury to be able to spend a little more time preaching through the whole text of a gospel or epistle not just a thought or exhortation. Now I would never recommend to a priest that he preach a half an hour is he only has 10 minutes of material but my point is not that a sermon must be longer, but that congregations might relax a bit on the time concerns. Many of my brother priests feel very constrained by the expectation of a very brief sermon.

Two quotes to end with. One from recent times and one from antiquity. The first quote is from, the Scripture Scholar William Barclay who is commenting on how Jesus was expelled from the synagogue in Nazareth:

There can be no preaching in the wrong atmosphere. Our churches would be different places if congregations would only remember that they preach far more than half the sermon. In an atmosphere of expectancy the poorest effort can catch fire. In an atmosphere of critical coldness or bland indifference the most Spirit-packed utterance can fall lifeless to the ground. (The Gospel of Mark, p. 140)

The second quote is from Gregory the Great in his Homily on the Pastoral Office:

Pray then for us that we [preachers] may have strength to labor for you as we ought, that our tongue may not be slack to exhort, and that, having undertaken the office of preaching, our silence may not prove our condemnation at the tribunal of the just Judge. For oftentimes by reason of their own sins the tongue of preachers is tied, oftentimes on the other hand it is because of the sins of their people that the gift of eloquence is withheld from pastors. By reason of their own sins the tongue of preachers is tied, according to the words of the Psalmist, “ But to the sinner God hath said, Why dost thou declare My justices ? ” (Ps. xlix. 16.) And again, the voice of preachers is hindered because of the sins of the people, according to the words of the Lord to Ezekiel : “ I will make thy tongue stick fast to the roof of thy mouth, and thou shalt be dumb, and not as a man that reproveth, because they are an obstinate house ” (Ezec. iii. 26). As though He said expressly : The gift of eloquence is withdrawn from thee, because while the people offend Me by their sins they are not worthy to have the truth preached to them. Through whose fault it is that speech is withdrawn from the preacher is no easy matter to decide. But that the silence of the pastor is hurtful to himself sometimes, and to his flock at all times, is beyond all doubt. (Lib 2.4)

This video is an excerpt of a sermon of Dr. Martin Luther King “A Knock at Midnight.” Listen to the role that the congregations plays in the sermon. I realize that this sort of interaction with the preacher will not work in every congregation. Why in some suburban parishes if you started to “get happy” in Church the ushers might come to your side and give you the bum’s rush 🙂 But even if this sort of response isn’t available to you the priest will know when you’re engaged and praying with him. Work with the preacher!

In Praise of the Holy Women, and Men, of the Mystical Tradition

In so many ways, I am relentlessly male. I am out there, I want to engage the issues of the day, I rejoice in the Church-militant, and looked to the Church-triumphant! This is appropriate, and proper, for I am a Christian man and God has gifted me to engage the battle! Men, in their maleness are a gift to the Church.

That said, I have come also to realize my need, and my indebtedness to the holy women of God’s Church, those living, and profoundly, those who have gone before, who have set forth a glorious testimony of the feminine genius and mystique of deep, mystical prayer.

Ah, the Holy Women! There are to be sure, men, such as St. John of the Cross, and St. Bernard of Clairvaux, just to mention two, who have set forth the great in mystical vision. But I must say, I am particularly indebted to the great women, to the mystics and Doctors of the Church, such as St. Catherine of Sienna, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Rose of Lima, St. Therese of Lisieux, Sister Faustina, and other women, who ventured into deep, contemplative, and spousal union with the Lord.

How their deep love, and their intensity. Their union with God has inspired me in my own journey toward contemplative prayer. Though I cannot access their spousal love for the Lord, I am able to transpose their experiences to a deep spiritual experience of sonship with God the Father, for he is Abba, and I am the son!

Ah! The great Catherine of Sienna, her love for the Lord, her wisdom, rooted in both suffering and afflication, in  joy and ecstasy. She personally met the Lord! What a witness! What a glory, what a testimony that the mystics give us. St. Teresa of Avila.  she to who encountered the Lord, and yet suffered greatly! She was even suspected of heresy and her visions and experiences were  submitted to the Inquisition!

Alas, Lord! Spare us for our suspicious rejection of the normal Christian life! St. Rose of Lima, St. Mary Margaret Mary, and Sister Fuustina, considered by many of their contemporaries to be strange, excessive, even possessed! Yet, they knew Him whom they had encountered. They knew his love for them, and were willing to suffer with him, and for him!

Spare us O Lord for our obtuseness, our doubt, and our lack of faith in assigning to them, who experienced a normal Christian life, the label of insanity, of oddness, extremity, mental unbalance, and even possession!

They encountered you, they had met you, and experienced you! Yet so many of us thought them strange and unbalanced. Forgive us Lord. Too often we have substituted extreme rationalism, for the mystical vision of You, who go beyond mere words and mere human formulae.

Forgive us Lord, for while our intellect is our crowning glory, sometimes we forget that you cannot be reduced to the limits of human concepts.

The mystics remind us of God’s transcendence, and we have often made them suffer for this.

Yes Lord, while it is surely our obligation to submit all things to your holy Magisterium, forgive, Lord,  us for the times when we have been too slow or too skeptical to accept the bold testimony that the mystics give us, that you are Other and that you draw us beyond what is simply and comfortably understood by us.

Thank you Lord for the mystical tradition, for the holy women, and men too, starting with John the Apostle, who have testified to us of you, who may have encountered You in ways more deep than words, too difficult to define. They suffered much, often at our hands, for the visions ABC, but they knew and would not deny you, whom they encountered.

Yes, pardon dear reader, a brief departure to prayer, and gratitude. As you know, the Pope has recently declared two new doctors of the Church. Among them is St. Hildegard von Bingen, and St. John of Avila.

I must say to you, with some embarrassment, that I know little of their, of her wisdom, and their experience of the Lord. But I will now, go and sit at their feet, encouraged by the Holy Father and I will listen and learn. For I have  learned that the many holy women, and the men too,  the mystics, have much to teach me. Their teachings go beyond words, and into vision, into the deep experience of the heart, into the deeper things of God, things not easily reduced to words. Therefore much is learned not only from their written teachings, but also of their lives and their experience, their sufferings and joys.

The intellectual tradition of the Church, his magnificent and necessary. But so is the mystical tradition, a tradition not opposed to, or really even distinct from, the intellectual tradition. For the same God is experienced and speaks in both ways. And while all things must be submitted to the sacred Magisterium of the Church, the intellectual and the mystical tradition should both be appreciated, and respected.

And thus, my next journey should well be to explore and carefully listen to the teachings of St. Hildegard von Bingen and St. John of Avila. Today the Pope has said listen to them, learn from them, sit and their feet, study and carefully consider what they teach.

Here are new Doctors of the Church.

And, in particular I must say, that I as a man, so relentlessly male, must, despite my gifts as a man, be balanced and completed by the holy women of the Church. Indeed, they have been my teachers, especially in the ways of prayer. Thanks be to God. Here is a video I have compiled in gratitude to some very important women in my life: