Quantum Leap, or The Loophole Effect on Liturgy

 

 

A couple of months ago, I posted Here a loophole, there a loophole...., I expressed concern over the manner in which ambiguous language in Canon Law, Mass rubrics, the GIRM, and the documents of the Second Vatican Council is interpreted.

For the progressive, ring-master style of "presider" over the "gathering," ambiguity becomes a loophole through which personal initiative anticipates desired change, i.e., a personal agenda is imposed upon worship, in this case.

For the orthodox priest or deacon, ambiguity demands interpretation in the light of tradition just as our popes have been saying for...well...forever, really.

Obviously, there's no problem in an orthodox approach to ambiguity. There are no "what now?" or "what the...?" moments during Mass.

The other approach is a different beastie. Whether one refers to it as liberal, progressive, modernist, humanist, or neo-whatever, this approach to ambiguity gives rise to what I've come to think of as the "quantum physics loophole effect," correctly confused with "wormholes" as portrayed in a few of my favorite sci-fi programs, notably Farscape, and Dr. Who. The common thread in "wormhole theory" is the idea of instantaneous travel to distant destinations of, usually, imprecise determination. In other words, once you're sucked into a wormhole, there's really no sure way of knowing exactly where you're going to come out. Even The Doctor is imprecise in his wormhole travels, and of all sci-fi heroes, one would think he'd be the one to have a grip on this.

The "loophole effect" has no place in Catholic worship. It constitutes a rupture with all that comes before it, and as far as what comes after, loopholes only lead to more loopholes. Much like the sci-fi quantum physics theories of wormholes folding space upon itself to eliminate distance and, therefore, time from travel, the "loophole effect" on the liturgy bypasses, and thereby rejects, the authentic development of worship in the Catholic Church. The Loophole Traveler anticipates a liturgy, and sometimes even a church, that is not prescribed by tradition or documents from any of the councils. With single-minded purpose and intention, mostly involving their own versions of "pastoral care," "ecumenism," "active participation," or the "new evangelization," Loophole Travelers experiment.

Time and time again, they stride into the loophole with every manner of innovation, fabrication, and novelty imaginable, and while they most definitely have a destination in mind, they never, ever arrive.

Why?

Because they seek a future Church which cannot exist.

By traveling outside of tradition and essentially denying the guidance of the Holy Spirit through the centuries, they cut off the branch on which they are sitting.

A future based on abusing ambiguity is no future, it's only a man-made experiment, a loophole with no end.

Fly Me to the Moon....

This year's anniversary of the moon landing has come and gone, and yet, memories of my original, youthful impressions seem to be lingering overlong, as if to fill a void, something lost. Perhaps I'm grasping at continuity between the bright, shining moment of "then" and the somewhat dull and directionless "now."

The moon landing harkens back to a time when, as a people, we stood together on the seemingly immovable foundation of human tradition in uniting ourselves with the great explorers of history.

In the Catholic Church, the faithful were united in a form of worship which connected them to Catholics throughout the world as well as to Catholics throughout time.

In that moment, in the U.S., we stood for God and country. We shared an intention to resolve the ancient paradox of mankind by continuing the great gambit played out through a history of exploration and migration, uniquely consummated by Neil Armstrong's first words after he set foot on the moon: "...one giant leap for mankind," a declaration of victory and, yet, a challenge to go so much further.

In chess, a gambit is a strategy in which a player puts one or more pieces at risk to gain an advantage in position, and that's how anyone who grew up in the '60's thought of the space program: mankind's ultimate gambit. It was a national dream, a credo, in which we stated a collective belief that life must be accommodated. The future was where it had always been, even in the time of the ancient migrations: "out there."

The solar system was the unknown territory that would balance material resources and an expanding population. The astronauts had risked their lives to build a bridge to this new territory. Our country had invested time and money in this endeavor, but more importantly, our nation committed to a dream. There was much at risk, but, as a people, we believed there was a shining future to gain.

Then, a funny thing happened on the way to Mars.

The "spirit of Vatican II" turned the Catholic Church upside down by so radically changing the manner of worship as to impart a sense of subjectivity into our very faith. The law of prayer, for all intents and purposes, suddenly seemed malleable, the Mass being adapted diocese by diocese and even parish by parish. The law of faith seemed to follow suit.

Perhaps coincidently, or perhaps as a consequence, contraception became the norm across the country, and when abortion became legal, our collective approach to life on earth seemed to capsize. Our country's national dream turned away from accommodating life and became focused on containing it. The challenge and accomplishment acknowledged by Neil Armstrong's famous words on that historic day have been relegated to little more than a self-congratulatory victory lap, the hope of the Space Age eclipsed by the despair inherent in the precepts of the Age of Bioengineering--zero population growth, vertical living, synthetic/hormone-injected food, and genetically modified people.

The opening of mankind's gambit had been played out perfectly, but when the moment came to take our position "out there," to approach that unknown space which had held the gaze of Man from the beginning, we turned our eyes unto ourselves in our tiny slice of time, and there they have remained these past decades. Salvation and the moon have seldom seemed so obscure.
 

 

 

 

Remembrance of Things Past, USC's Review of _Brother Sun, Sister Moon_

Here's  a movie review from Unam Sanctam Catholicam, one of my "Recommended Catholic blogs."

I like the review, and these days I'm thankful for anything that brings up vivid memories of my youth. I also agree that anything good about this film is obscured by the "spirit of '72" coming through loud and clear.

But, that's not the point of this post--whether or not I agree with the review. Rather, I'd like to offer a written slice of my early involvement with charismatic protestant groups, something I generally try not to think about, but something of which the charismatic "renewal" in the Catholic Church, and this review, have reminded me.

Today, reading the USC review took me back...way back...

 ...I saw this movie in the Princess Theater in Eagle Grove, IA when I was in...9th grade, I think, near to when it was released. I was a Methodist at the time, involved with my first charismatic youth group. This movie, in combo with _Godspell_, set a few of us on a path that began with Superman T-shirts and playing "Jesus songs" on our guitars down by the Boone River, and took some of us to the punk/alternative music scene in Minneapolis MN of the early '80's...oh, by "some of us," I mean me. 

Movies like this in combination with youthful charismatic speakers and enthralling singer/guitarists gave us '70's adolescents who were inclined towards religion the sense that we were involved in a new approach to Jesus, unique to our generation. We embraced a certain sense of knowing something that no one else had ever really understood...well, except for maybe the apostles.

For me, it took a few years to realize the "1, 2 punch" that the charismatic approach to God represented and to which I had succumbed.

The music, words, and presentation created the emotional high (1 punch) and then the facilitators would convince us that the "high" was an authentic encounter with God, the Holy Spirit (2 punch). No matter what happened after that, we were directed to believe that the Holy Spirit made us do it!

Eventually, I realized that it was taking more and more "theater" to bring me to the desired level of emotional exuberance that would allow for the "holy singing," "holy weeping," "holy dancing," and most of all, the "holy hugging and kissing." I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, the absolute faith that all of this was directly guided by the Holy Spirit was, dare I say, a bit arrogant.

I began to fixate on "free will" and consequences, which takes me even further back....

As Methodists, we had been presented with our first Bibles, the Revised Standard Edition (from the '50's, I think) when we were in 2nd grade. I, for one, started reading then and sort of grew into it. By the time I was in 6th grade, the page edges of my Bible were massively wrinkled, with the red coloring worn off, in three places: Creation, the story of Samson, and the Gospels.

Without realizing it, I had grown into an understanding of the importance of free will and consequences. Adam and Eve's bio included being created without sin, immortal, full of grace, and they talked to God on a regular basis. Yet, they made a choice which they thought would make them like unto God, and then, of course, we were all bound to the consequences.

Samson was frequently granted great strength by being filled with the spirit of God, and yet, had a tendency to fall for bad women.

And then, Jesus, God the son, the Word made Flesh, came to earth to save us from the consequences of free will by building a ladder (of Sacraments) to get us back into Heaven.

When left to my own personal interests, this had been my (young boy's) approach to the Bible.

So, years later, the charismatic idea of designating one moment in the midst of what seemed more like a 3-ring rock concert than God worship, as the moment when the emotional high we were all on was no longer a mere emotional high, but was the finger of God ready to grant us charismatic gifts if only we'd help Him out a bit, began to develop cracks.

I became indignant at what I considered to be the great lie of this charismatic voodoo. Having broken with the religious "establishment" to embrace the charismatic youth movement, and then having broken with the charismatic movement because it had stopped making (theological) sense, I went my own way. I wrote songs, played in bands, and if it came up between sets or after a gig, I'd tell 'em the truth, "It's only the music and the beer making you feel this way. You'll be back to normal by morning."

 

Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger--"the central actio of the liturgy"

As early as 1967, and upon first witnessing the new "normative Mass" that was to be promulgated by Pope Paul VI, concerns were raised regarding an innovative increase in emphasis on the readings and singing during the Liturgy of the Word. Cardinal Heenan, Archbishop of Westminster, given only 5 minutes to present his observations on the new order of the Mass, put it very concisely:

 

"1. The rule of prayer is the rule of faith. If there is to be more emphasis in the Mass on Bible readings than on Eucharistic prayer, the faith of both clergy and people will be weakened.
2. There is more need than ever today to stress the Real Presence of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. No change in the Mass should be made which might seem to throw doubt on this doctrine." ( I copied these from Fr. Ray Blake's blog)

As recently as 2010, "pew surveys" have provided evidence justifying Cardinal Heenan's concerns. (U.S. Religious Knowledge Survey )

 

Over 30 years after Cardinal Heenan's statement, and having observed three decades of innovations and novelties imposed upon the liturgy, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (who would become Pope Benedict XVI) acknowledged a need for restoration of the liturgy in his forward to his book,  The Spirit of the Liturgy: 

 

"In fact (the liturgy) is threatened with destruction, if the necessary steps are not taken to stop these damaging influences...what is imperative is a new reverence in the way we treat it, a new understanding of its message and its reality, so that rediscovery does not become the first stage of irreparable loss. My purpose in writing this little book, which I now lay before the public, is to assist this renewal of understanding."

 

While Cardinal Ratzinger provides instruction on many aspects of the liturgy and "rite" in the pages of his "little book," pertinent to this blog post is his section on "Active Participation" and the necessity of distinguishing the actions inherent to the Liturgy of the Word from those of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. When considering the central action in which we are called to participate during the Liturgy, he offers this:

 

"The study of the liturgical sources provides an answer...By the actio of the liturgy the sources mean the Eucharistic Prayer...

"...But this is only just a hint of the central issue. This oratio—the Eucharistic Prayer, the 'Canon'—is really more than speech; it is actio in the highest sense of the word. For what happens in it is that the human actio...steps back and makes way for the actio divina, the action of God. In this oratio the priest speaks with the I of the Lord—‘This is my Body’, ‘This is my Blood.’ He knows that he is not now speaking from his own resources but in virtue of the Sacrament that he has received, he has become the voice of Someone Else, who is now speaking and acting. This action of God, which takes place through human speech, is the real 'action' for which all of creation is in expectation. The elements of the earth are transubstantiated, pulled, so to speak, from their creaturely anchorage, grasped at the deepest ground of their being, and changed into the Body and Blood of the Lord...

"...The uniqueness of the Eucharistic liturgy lies precisely in the fact that God himself is acting and that we are drawn into that action of God. Everything else is, therefore, secondary.

"...By the same token, participation in the Liturgy of the Word (reading, singing) is to be distinguished from the sacramental celebration proper. We should be clearly aware that external actions are quite secondary here.

"...If the various external actions (as a matter of fact, there are not very many of them, though they are being artificially multiplied) become the essential in the liturgy, if the liturgy degenerates into general activity, then we have radically misunderstood the “theo-drama” of the liturgy and lapsed into a parody." (from pp. 171-5, _The Spirit of the Liturgy_.)

 

I would like to join my prayers to those of many who hope that the re-assertion of fundamental liturgical truths, such as expressed so eloquently by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger/Benedict XVI and others with a similar awareness of the liturgical tradition, will be the catalyst for the liturgical restoration at the parish-level  that, in the end, is essential for the true "renewal of understanding."

 

Find out what's right about the Church

I've read several studies that offer suggestions for converting fallen-away or lax Catholics back to the Church. Usually the studies propose questions asking why they left. The answers are tallied up and presented as a kind of "to-do" list: This is how we fix the Catholic Church.

Just plug in this list, provide for all the personal preferences, and...

...it's fixed!

Except it's not, because this approach gets it all backwards.

When I was in the process of instruction during my conversion to the Catholic Church, a couple of people I knew approached me saying things like, "Well, I know a guy who was a priest back in the '70's, and he says (the reasons he left the Church and became a Baptist/Lutheran/atheist)." Or, "I grew up Catholic, and by the time I was 14, I decided that it was all (their adolescent opinion on their parish church)." Or, (my personal favorite), "I grew up Catholic and went to Catholic school and you probably won't live long enough to go to as many Masses as I have, and it never did a thing for me!"

Finally, I told my friends I wasn't interested in hearing or embracing the opinions of someone who hated what I loved or who failed at what I was attempting to become. I summed it up by saying, "If I want to find out what it's like to be in a good marriage, I'm not going to ask someone who is divorced."

The book Prodigal Daughters*, reviewed by Robert Beaurivage in Regina Magazine, has it right: Talk to the people who have come back to the Church.

This might be the only way we see what's been right there under our noses all along.


*Prodigal Daughters: Catholic Women Come Home to the Church, By Donna Steichen (1999) Published by Ignatius Press, San Francisco, CA.

Here's a Loophole, There's a Loophole: The Power of Personal Initiative

Canon 846 of the code of canon law states: “no one may on a personal initiative add to or omit or alter anything in [liturgical] books.”*
To me, this is the most abused notion in the Church. We are probably all aware of ambiguity lurking in many documents from the GIRM to Canon Law to those of the Second Vatican Council. The key to Catholic identity is the approach to this problem. Relativists see ambiguity as a loophole through which personal initiative might be asserted while the orthodox would understand that the murk of ambiguity is only cleared away through the historical/traditional practices of the Church. These approaches, happening side-by-side in our parishes, create profound tension: personal initiative versus orthodoxy.

How many times have we asked questions like, "Why do some people hold hands at Mass during the 'Our Father,' and we're told, even by priests, "Well, it doesn't say they CAN'T....?" Loophole?

Or, we point out that EMHC are only supposed to be employed in truly extraordinary circumstances, like when you're on the Titanic and it's going down, only to be ignored, at best, or, at worst, taught about the importance of active participation (doing stuff) at Mass. Maybe it's pointed out that the language used in the documents on EMHC is ambiguous or open to interpretation. Loophole?

Or, we might ask why we're always singing "Gospel Songs for Children" at Mass instead of Gregorian chant which is supposed to have "pride of place," only to be reminded that the documents (of the Second Vatican Council) indicated that there might be other appropriate music as well. Loophole!

Or...

...or...

...here's another example: I recently read the GIRM on homilies, specifically the practice of "wandering" which is employed by evangelical protestant-style priests and deacons. The GIRM is, at first, clear, "No. 136 says: 'The priest, standing at the chair or at the ambo itself'" and then, vague, "'...or, when appropriate, in another suitable place, gives the homily." One intent is clear, the priest is supposed to be "standing," not wandering. Also, "ambo," according to _New Advent_, is from the Greek and is "supposed to signify a mountain or elevation," and while that might include a pulpit in the sanctuary, one would have to assume it does not include walking among the people where the priest/deacon becomes invisible to a significant percent of the laity at any given moment as he moves about amongst them. "Ambo," after all, implies the mountain, not the valley.

In each of these situations, the approach to ambiguous phrasing in the GIRM/rubrics/law and especially the documents of the Second Vatican Council, amounts to a teaching moment, but what is being taught? In most places, personal initiative trumps tradition almost every time.

*from _romanrite. com_

Deliver us from evil

President Obama while addressing representatives of Planned Parenthood: "Thank you, Planned Parenthood, and God bless you."*

To me, this is beyond sense, so I can't even comment on the absurdity of saying "God bless you" to an orgnization that, according to CNSNews .com, murdered over 300,000 babies in 2011.

Speechless though I may be regarding the quote, it reminded me of something that I think about now and then: when we read about ancient societies, or even fairly modern societies, we come to regard some to have been evil and some to have been noble, the mantle of nobility usually belonging to the victor as a spoil of war. Granted, there is always a sort of balance between what our modern society considers acceptable and that which crosses the line. Ultimately, we're met with the dilemma of trying to balance out phenomenal architecture against slavery, or paved roads and plumbing against military expansion of the Empire, a somewhat perplexing balancing act, at best.

Yet, when history depicts a society as being utterly, totally, absolutely dripping with evil, the description of that society always includes a little tag at the end that goes something like this: Oh, yeah, and they killed babies, too.

And that little tag, that little factoid, sets up the mandatory response, "Well, it's a good thing they were wiped off of the face of the earth."

In the wake of quotes and sentiments such as those our President offered during his recent speech to reps of Planned Parenthood, I can't help but take a look through my Magic Telescope to see what's up ahead.

I see someone, like me only wearing a George Jetson liesure suit, watching holographic historical recordings about ancient Usa and thinking, "Wow, the District of Columbia used to control that whole continent? How odd...." Then, as the factoids begin to mount against "Usa" as a noble society, the dreams realized in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights long forgotten for the sake of humanity's greater glory, they come upon the moment of judgement, the balancing act, and what fills the scales on the side of nobility? By then, according to the Magic Telescope, only social networking and cosmetic enhancements, the future historians concluding that, once a culture refuses God, all paths become vanity.

And as the recording comes to an end, a serious-looking, computer-generated young Walter Kronkite, says, "And they killed their babies."

So, "God bless" Planned Parenthood?

More like "God have mercy on us, and deliver us from evil." 


*(cnsnews . com) One of many sources

And it came to pass: The Lamentations of Jeremias

"And it came to pass, after Israel was carried into captivity and Jerusalem was desolate, that Jeremias the prophet sat weeping, and mourned with this lamentation of Jerusalem. And with a sorrowful mind, sighing and moaning, he said:



Jeremiah mourning over the Destruction
of Jerusalem - Rembrandt

 (Lamentations 4: 1-4)
"Aleph. How is the gold become changed, the stones of the sanctuary are scattered in the top of every street.

"Beth. The noble sons of Sion and they that were clothed with the best gold: how are they esteemed as earthen vessels, the work of the potter's hands?

"Ghimel. Even the sea monsters have drawn out the breast, they have given suck to their young: the daughter of my people is cruel, like the ostrich in the desert.

"Daleth. The tongue of the sucking child hath stuck to the roof of his mouth for thirst: the little ones have asked for bread, and there was none to break it unto them."

(Text from: The Holy Bible  Translated from the Latin Vulgate and diligently compared with the Hebrew, Greek and other editions in divers languages. The Old Testament was first published by the English College at Douay, A.D. 1609 and The New Testament was first published by the English College at Rheims, A.D. 1582. With notes by Bishop Challoner....)

Isaias 53:1-8

Prophecy of Isaias (Isaiah) 53:1-8

A prophecy of the passion of Christ.

(1) Who hath believed our report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?
(2)And he shall grow up as a tender plant before him, and as a root out of a thirsty ground: there is no beauty in him, nor comeliness: and we have seen him, and there was no sightliness, that we should be desirous of him:
(3)Despised, and the most abject of men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with infirmity: and his look was as it were hidden and despised, whereupon we esteemed him not.
(4) Surely he hath borne our infirmities and carried our sorrows: and we have thought him as it were a leper, and as one struck by God and afflicted.
(5)But he was wounded for our iniquities, he was bruised for our sins: the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his bruises we are healed.

(6)All we like sheep have gone astray, every one hath turned aside into his own way: and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.

 (7)He was offered because it was his own will, and he opened not his mouth: he shall be led as a sheep to the slaughter, and shall be dumb as a lamb before his shearer, and he shall not open his mouth.

 (8)He was taken away from distress, and from judgment: who shall declare his generation? because he is cut off out of the land of the living: for the wickedness of my people have I struck him

Checkmate in two...another uninformed opinion

For nearly half of his pontificate, I've had a sense that much of Pope Benedict's agenda was being subverted by inaction and dissent on the part of those in the Church who are his adversaries.

With the papal Mass as an exmaple, he directed the Church to return to receiving Holy Communion on the tongue while kneeling. But, how many parishes followed the lead, how many new altar rails, how many sacramental prep classes that even made mention that this was the preferred manner of receiving Holy Communion? Few.

The pope wanted seminaries to teach the Tridentine Mass. How many are actually doing that? Few and far between.

The pope wanted mandatory Latin in seminaries. Again, this is not happening on a broad scale.

He wanted the Tridentine Mass in most parishes so that people might witness worship in reverence and awe of the sacred mysteries.

How many? Few and far between, and in many parishes there is a fairly vocal contempt for this form of the Mass, and, most disturbingly, in these same parishes, there's a definite sense of entitlement to this contempt, as if hating everything Catholic prior to the Second Vatican Council is somehow justifiable, somehow Catholic.

He wanted authentic liturgical music for the liturgy. How many scholas out there?

With almost every step he took as the shepherd of the flock, Pope Benedict found resistance and dissent from liberal factions of bishops, priests, music directors, publishers, and media. These groups were quick to focus on the difficulties in implimenting the pope's directives, using their creativity to find loopholes which justified inaction rather than finding ways to carry out the Pope's wishes.

In the first couple of years of his pontificate, I was joyful at nearly everything he did or said, but then, at a certain point, when I realized that inaction and dissent seemed to be the general response, I had the sense that many in the Church were just hunkering in and waiting for the pope to die, in the hope that with his death his influence would disappear, and they could continue the Grand Procession towards the generic world church.

As I wallowed in my lamentations, I realized that, while these liberals were so focused on their own private dissent, Pope Benedict was quietly appointing Cardinals and bishops that were in step with everything he's done since becoming pope.

Now, I believe that, at a certain point, he realized that his opponents were stalling for a kind of stalemate and counting on attrition to diminish our pope's influence.

So, Pope Benedict, in chess fashion, though, I do not think he would think of it as such, continued to move his pieces into place (first implimenting directives that promoted sound doctrine and then appointing cardinals and bishops to support those practices).

Then came the day when he looked at the board and realized he could have checkmate in two moves, but the first move would have to be a doozy. To win a stalemate, you must avoid attrition of your resources (protect your pieces to assure an advantage when the final offensive comes) and, when the time is right, move efficiently and decisively.

With all the pieces in place, he realized that only an extended pontificate would weather the attrition necessary for stalemate.

And thus, he made the first move: he abdicated the papacy.

Now comes the unknown variable.

The second move must be the election of a young, reformer pope of a like-mind to Benedict, at least when it comes to the liturgy. In such a pontiff, the enemies of our Pope Benedict will see a future stretching far beyond stalemate to a time of renewel that truly reflects the continuity of the Church.


Upon reflection: Perhaps a less political and more palatable analogy can be seen in the tending of a garden. We plant according to need and resources with the understanding that weather is always an unknown variable.

When we till the soil and plant bulbs in the fall, we know that we will have to energetically weed the garden in the spring if we want the bulbs to see full bloom. It would seem that the pope has looked beyond the winter to the springtime and realizes the urgency for a more youthful gardener. There's nothing left but to honor the pope's wishes today by praying for a good gardener, good ground, and gentle, soaking rain in the spring.

Upon further reflection (August, 2013): I seem to have missed the bull's eye, the target, and have lost my arrow to boot on this one....

Excerpts from _The Spirit of the Liturgy_ by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Pope Benedict

 “He is here, he himself, the whole of himself, and he remains here.” This realization came upon the Middle Ages with a wholly new intensity. It was caused in part by the deepening of theological reflection, but still more important was the new experience of the saints, especially in the Franciscan movement and in the new evangelization undertaken by the Order of Preachers. What happens in the Middle Ages is not a misunderstanding due to losing sight of what is central, but a new dimension of the reality of Christianity opening up through the experience of the saints, supported and illuminated by the reflection of the theologians. At the same time, this new development is in complete continuity with what had always been believed hitherto. Let me say it again: This deepened awareness of faith is impelled by the knowledge that in the consecrated species he is there and remains there. When a man experiences this with every fiber of his heart and mind and senses, the consequence is inescapable: “We must make a proper place for this Presence.” And so little by little the tabernacle takes shape, and more and more, always in a spontaneous way, it takes the place previously occupied by the now disappeared “Ark of the Covenant.” In fact, the tabernacle is the complete fulfillment of what the Ark of the Covenant represented. It is the place of the “Holy of Holies.” It is the tent of God, his throne. Here he is among us. His presence (Shekinah) really does now dwell among us-in the humblest parish church no less than in the grandest cathedral. Even though the definitive Temple will only come to be when the world has become the New Jerusalem, still what the Temple in Jerusalem pointed to is here present in a supreme way. The New Jerusalem is anticipated in the humble species of bread.

So let no one say, “The Eucharist is for eating, not looking at.” It is not “ordinary bread,” as the most ancient traditions constantly emphasize. Eating it-as we have just said-is a spiritual process, involving the whole man. “Eating” it means worshipping it. Eating it means letting it come into me, so that my “I” is transformed and opens up into the great “we,” so that we become “one” in him (cf. Gal 3:16) Thus, adoration is not opposed to Communion, nor is it merely added to it. No, Communion only reaches its true depths when it is supported and surrounded by adoration.”

(Excerpts from The Spirit of the Liturgy by Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, Pope Benedict. pp. 89-90)

But, is it art?

I spent years working a "Clark Kent" job at a contemporary art center. There were many of us Clark Kents there, all supporting our secret, super-hero identities. By day, we were guards, maintenance men, janitors, laborers, cooks, bus boys, cashiers, book store floor reps, and secretaries to the movers and shakers of the art center.

But, by night...

...by night, we embraced our secret identities and fought for truth, justice, and...well, at least we fought for what we decided was truth.

We painted. We wrote. We acted. We performed music. We became.

While our Clark Kent jobs might've seemed fairly mindless to us, our dreams were not. The art center lounge, where we'd take our breaks, was a stage where, at one time or another, each Clark Kent would reveal their super-hero identity to the other super heroes and explain the merits of their "truths."

But "truth" begged questions, and one of the most common questions, and fodder for endless discussion, not just once, but with each generation of Clark Kents on their way to the stars, was this: What is art? What is art? What is art?

Had we worked a few miles down the road at the Art Institute, this question probably wouldn't have been as prevalent. On display at the institute was classic art that had passed the test of time and the mud-slinging of bitter contemporaries. From the Dutch masters to Picasso, from Van Gough to Michelangelo, the permanent collection presented that which Western culture had defined as art, in some cases, for century upon century. As assuredly as we knew Beethoven’s 9th was genius, we knew that God had reached down and gifted Michelangelo with the means of granting the rest of the humans a glimpse of the Eternal.

At the contemporary art center at which I worked, it was a different story.

If our art center made the news, it was not for displaying the "lost" Rembrandt, but for the controversy of displaying that which 99 out of 100 people defined as pornography. Then, there was the blank canvas piece that begged comparisons with pre-school art projects. In all honesty, the pre-schoolers exhibited a more mature sense of form, color value, and subject matter.

The confusion created by the subjective nature of contemporary art was the fuel that fired the perpetual discussion: what is art?

One week's discussion embraced self-affirmation art. Painting or sculpting as a vehicle to trumpet our own experience, our own opinions, became a means to verify our innermost feelings, our endeavors, and our desires. The eternal question was answered: Our lives are art, and only through our art, are we affirmed.

The next week's discussion focused on absence-of-form as art. In its minimalism, art expresses complexity. Nothing is as provocative as "nothing." The blank canvas, the un-molded piece of clay, the empty box inspires participation and lifts each heart to produce art, because, we must remember that "art" is in the "heart."

After a week of primal screams, head-bonking to elicit pain, and displays of angst to prove the "art" in the "heart," and, then, having come across the press release for the schedule of the next season's shows, almost as one, us Clark Kents tired of the discussion and threw in the towel, collectively deciding that "art is what is displayed in art centers."

For my part, I not only grew tired of the discussion, I grew tired of the pursuit of my self-defined "truth." I realized that truth was not something that each person invented for themselves. It was, as the '80's Sci-Fi series The X Files assured us, "out there."

Eventually, I converted to the Catholic Church and realized that a vocation isn't just what one decides to do. It's a life which God directs each person to live. For my wife and me, we discerned sacramental marriage and the call to imitate the Holy Family.

As such, we came to understand the serious responsibility of passing the Faith along to our children.

Sadly, the Church we had found in the Tridentine Mass at St. Augustine's in South St. Paul was not easy to discern in most parishes. In fact, it was and is, for all intents and purposes, almost obscured by a Mass which, as celebrated, more clearly presents an orientation towards feelings and empowerment of people, especially women, than presenting a form of worship which unites people under one universal orientation towards Jesus among us in the Eucharist. 

While the new translation offers text which precisely presents Catholic Eucharistic faith, prayer orientation remains confusing. Contributing mightily to this confusion, are the hymnals used in most parishes.

One of the most powerful means of inspiring faith, religious zeal, and reverence, while raising one's heart towards God, is music.

The liturgical music of the Church should do all of this by being...well...liturgical!

On any given Sunday, when attending the Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite, as the amplified music bombards me from on high, I am struck by the similarity between the nature of this music and that of contemporary art. Both offer a recipe for confusion: whisk together one part "here-today-gone-tomorrow," one part "self-affirmation," one part "personal empowerment," and add "spontaneity" and "subjective truth" to taste. 

This analogy must break down. Contemporary art is beholden to the opinions of critics and the populace, at least the populace populating the contemporary art world.

The Catholic Church has a central authority guided by the Holy Spirit. The Catholic Church preaches one truth, not many. The Catholic Church has defined liturgical music and has stated in no uncertain terms that Gregorian chant is the most proper form of music for the liturgy. The Second Vatican Council reiterated the Church's long-held position on liturgical music: "The Church acknowledges Gregorian chant as specially suited to the Roman Liturgy; therefore … it should be given pride of place in liturgical services. But other kinds of sacred music, especially polyphony, are by no means excluded … so long as they accord with the spirit of the liturgical action."

The Second Vatican Council introduced the concept that an appropriate alternative to Gregorian chant might be used for the liturgy, but, ultimately, the documents of the Second Vatican Council must be interpreted in the light of Tradition and of the Council of Trent. In that respect, there can exist few appropriate alternatives to Gregorian Chant. Certainly, we must not consider Shall We Gather at the River, Sing a New Church, Morning Has Broken, or the bulk of musical offerings in the most-used Catholic hymnals as appropriate to substitute for Gregorian chant and polyphony.

The most widely distributed hymnals in Catholic parishes in America include content which, conceptually, mirrors the galleries of contemporary art centers. In putting forward as "Catholic" songs written by non-Catholics that only brush the surface of our faith, these hymnals not only present a watered down, subjective approach to the Catholic faith, but actually promote the suppression of that which the Church has clearly defined to be liturgical music. As Catholics, we must not fall into the trap as did the Clark Kents of the contemporary art center, tiring of the fight and acquiescing to the idea that anything on display in a gallery is art.

As Catholics we must stand firm on our heritage and our Church's authoritative definition of liturgical music. Inclusion in a hymnal does not guarentee liturgical merit.

If we attend a sporting event, we have come to expect a display of patriotism towards the country which allows for this type of competition. In America, this means playing and singing the Star Spangled Banner while directing our attention towards our country's flag. We take off our hats. We place our right hand over our heart. But, how would the crowd react if, instead, they were prompted to honor our country by singing Hey Jude? Such a song choice certainly would not inspire patriotism!

A similar scenario, a disconnect between the music and liturgy, exists in most of our parishes each Sunday. Should we not expect, and demand actual liturgical music, unbridled by subjective definitions which promote ecumenism and entertainment over doctrine? As much as we stand together as countrymen to defend and honor our country, we must stand together as Catholics to guard the deposit of faith, including the manner in which it is presented through worship and music. We can't allow our faith to continue to be muddled by the playing and singing of non-liturgical and even non-Catholic music as part of the liturgy.

Let the Baptists gather at the river, the liberal nuns sing their own new church, and Cat Stevens herald mother earth, but let Catholics be Catholic. We might well echo the words in the fourth movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony: Oh friends, not these tones! Rather, let us raise our voices in more pleasing and more joyful sounds!

Let's Be Sensible

Jesus Christ gave three requirements for membership in the one true Church. "The profession of the same Faith, the use of the same means of grace, and the subordination to the same authority." (Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, Dr. Ludwig Ott, p. 301)

Today, I'm concerned with the first requirement, profession of the same Faith, particularly as it is expressed in the manner in which Catholics worship in the Roman Rite.

From the time of the apostles, in accordance with Tradition and with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, rites of worship evolved which gave visible expression to the Catholic faith. "Rite makes concrete the liturgy's bond with that living subject which is the Church, who for her part is characterized by adherence to the form of faith that has developed in the apostolic tradition." (The Spirit of the Liturgy, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, p.166)

In other words, the manner in which the Church worships, the actions and orientation, should present a people united in a visible profession of the same faith. At the same time, there has always been an allowance for a degree to which certain details of the rite might address regionalism in regard to tradition and culture, all with the understanding that "diversity must not damage unity. It must express only fidelity to the common faith." (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd Edition, 1206)

Prior to the Council of Trent, in the time of the protestant Reformation, the Mass had taken on regional characteristics to such an extent that, in many cases, local rites served to isolate rather than to make visible the connection of all people in all regions. The essential form of the liturgy, to a large degree, had been obscured. "The Reformation would surely have run a different course if Luther had been able to see the binding force of the great liturgical tradition ...." (Ratzinger p.167)

Partly in reaction to the Reformation, and partly in recognition of the doctrinal chaos that had resulted from, in many cases, unbridled local adaptations of the Roman Rite, the Council of Trent addressed the task of defining the Catholic Church not only through clear, precise teaching of doctrine, but also by means of codifying a universal rite, the offering of which would clearly profess the Eucharistic faith of the Catholic Church.

In the decades following the Second Vatican Council, we have experienced a similar progression of growth in regional variations being applied to the Roman Rite, such as those that were prevalent in the time before the Reformation and the calling of the Council of Trent. For example, music that contradicts Catholic teaching, the orientation of the Mass towards "community" and away from God, innovations of a nature that contradict the moral theology of certain dogmatic principles (such as the arbitrary use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion), are a few visible signs that work to obscure the expression of the same Eucharistic faith through Catholic worship. The risk inherent in the regionalization of the Roman Rite through the use of innovations and novelties is the same as existed in the time before the Council of Trent; that is, moral relativism rises as liturgical abuse increases. As a consequence of the spread of moral relativism, a growing number of laity and clergy exhibit improperly formed consciences by dismissing the authentic teachings of the Holy See in favor of their own personal set of priorities, as evidenced by the "Catholic" vote during the last U.S. presidential election. This relativism has changed the Catholic landscape from a people who are drawn together under one doctrine, to a people who reject Church teaching and still claim to be Catholic. Bl. Pope John Paul II referred to this as a "silent apostasy" and called for a "new evangelization" to re-educate this faction of the Church.

It is essential for the Roman Rite to present the law of prayer clearly and precisely so that the law of belief is easily discerned. As sensible signs need be employed in the administration of the Sacraments in order to satisfy the nature of man as a creature united in body and soul, sensible actions are required by the clergy and laity during Mass to provide for the visible profession of the Catholic faith. (Catechism Explained, Spirago-Clarke, p.573)

Just as water is a sensible sign of cleansing and purifying during baptism, the manner in which the Mass is celebrated  must present what we actually believe about the Eucharist. The actions and words of the priest at Mass must be governed by the rubrics and words of the Roman Missal, thus reflecting what the Church believes in regard to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. The music used during the Mass must be Catholic and reflect a sound Eucharist theology. We cannot hope to nourish the faith of the people if we continue singing songs like Sing a New Church or Amazing Grace! Finally, how the laity themselves behave reflects and affects their Eucharistic faith. For example, we bow our heads at the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary, as well as the saint of the day. We genuflect when we pass in front of the Tabernacle. We make the sign of the cross. After Mass, we kneel and pray in thanksgiving for Our Lord coming to us in Holy Communion. We do not speak when we are in the church or in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament.

All these things are done to satisfy the two-fold necessity of sensible actions in worship: That required by the union of body and soul in mankind, and that which is required for the visible expression of a people united in professing the same Eucharistic faith.

Sermons of the Cure of Ars: First Sunday after Epiphany

From Sermons of the Cure of Ars (Jean Baptiste Marie Vianney), The Neumann Press, 1995 reprint of 1901 edition, excerpt from “First Sunday After Epiphany.”

“Man, who is a creature composed of a body and a soul, requires perceptible objects to represent to him the unseen, or, in other words, he needs sacred pictures. From the visible our human thoughts rise up to the invisible; by that which is visible we are reminded of that which is invisible; by the natural of the supernatural. That is why, from the very earliest ages, Christians made pictures of the Divine Saviour, of the Mother of God, and of the angels; in some instances they even made pictures of the doctrines of faiths, such as the doctrine of the Blessed Sacrament. These visible pictures were the ladder on which their mind and heart ascended to the invisible God and to the truths which He had revealed to them. After they had adorned their places of Divine worship with religious pictures of this kind, they did the same in their dwellings. To decorate the houses with religious pictures is a custom as old as Christianity itself, for the true Christian has always considered the home as nothing less than a Temple of God, and the religious picture as a means to extend and preserve the spirit of Christianity in the home.” (pp.77-78)

“I know of a certain place, dear Christians, where, in the midst of fields and meadows, there stands on an eminence a newly built dwelling-house, which almost resembles a lordly manor. On this spot there stood formerly an old house, over the threshold of which was fastened a large crucifix. When the parents of the present owner died, and he got married, he had the old building torn down and built a new one. There were people who said to him: ‘You are surely not going to take that crucifix from the old house and put it up over the door of the new house-it wouldn’t look well at all.’

“What answer did the man make?

“‘Under the sign of this crucifix my parents lived and worked, and God blessed them, for they became well-to-do, and I shall do just the same with my family. We shall live and work under the sign of the Cross, so that the blessing of God, which we enjoyed in the old house, may also fall upon the new one.’

“And the blessing of God will flow down over every house where people live and work under the sign of the Cross. For all the members of the family know that when they look upon the crucifix in the right way, it teaches them to pray to God, to have confidence in God in times of trouble; preserves them from haughtiness in times of good fortune; teaches them, not only to care for temporal things, but also for those which are eternal; and the family which understands this language of the Cross, and which orders its life according to the language of the Cross, such a family converts its house into a church and is blessed by God.” (pp. 78-79)

Our job is to save them from themselves

My wife is part of the marketing team for a technical services firm. While most of her firm's technically trained, professionally licensed coworkers are greatly appreciative of the magic she and her teammates weave as they make the bare-bones technical drafts sound interesting and appealing to the average person, there are always hold-outs who insist, “This is how I want it to read, my clients will understand what I’m talking about."

Often the marketing writers, each in their own time, will find themselves in the position of having to practice the gentle art of persuasion to enlighten one of these coworkers to the benefits of understanding their readers’ points of view. Sometimes, the conversation is short. Sometimes, the conversation takes on elements of a tag-team debate, and sometimes, when the writers have reached that point of exhaustion when throwing in the towel seems the only sensible course of action, my wife reminds them, “Part of our job is to save them from themselves.”

 During the "Year of Faith," we are encouraged to invite ex-Catholics and lax Catholics back "home."

To me, it's logical that the first step be the same as approaching any friend or acquaintance who quits a situation, from leaving college, to changing jobs, to breaking off any kind of relationship. First, we must ask a simple question: "Why?"

What happened?

There are innumerable surveys available online, some going back as far as 1969, all asking this same simple question:Why are Catholics leaving the Church?

I've viewed several of these, including the most recent I found published at America Magazine online. Of course, there are many interpetations of these surveys, but an underlying theme in the survey responses seems to be personal dissatisfaction with what ex/lax Catholics seem to think of as "services" they expect to obtain from the Church, as if the Church is a restaurant or a dinner theater.

In all fairness, there is many a parish that presents the Mass in a manner that has more in common with a dinner theater than with the Sacrifice of Calvary, so it's understandable why so many demand to be entertained at Mass. I can also understand why they have this sense of entitlement: it's been this way for nearly fifty years.

As I read through a summary of suggestions and objections from the most recent survey, I can only hope that every faithful Catholic, laity, deacon, and priest, realizes that, when it comes to desires and complaints of ex/lax Catholics and changes that their return to the fold seem to hinge upon, "Our job is to save them from themselves."

The Mass must be re-proposed to this group. They must be afforded access to a clear presentation of the "law of prayer" to know the "law of belief." This can only be done by revitalizing the liturgy by removing distractions, re-directing the orientation away from the community, and by affording the laity a sense of the sacred in Holy Silence and in the manner in which the Sacrifice is offered.

Additionally, much as my wife and her marketing teammates seek to distinguish their firm from their competitors, the Catholic Church must put behind that form of ecumenism which promotes "sameness" and, instead, clearly present that which distinguishes it, namely, the Real Presence and the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the Sacrament of Penance, and the priesthood. The Catholic Church must clearly present requirements of the true church, a people united in the "profession of the same faith, the use of the same means of grace, and (in) subordination to the same authority." ( Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, Dr. Ludwig Ott, p. 301).

At the parish level, worship should be offered in a manner which confirms and nurtures faith in the invisible side of the Church: "...the inner sanctification of mankind...the gifts of Salvation, which the Church communicates, truth and grace...the inner life-principle of the Church, the Holy Ghost, and the operation of His grace...." (Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, Dr. Ludwig Ott, p. 302)

All these things can be clearly recognized through the manner of worship. All these things must be made clear to provide this wandering group with the understanding that there's really only one path home: the Catholic Church.

Comments on _The Day the Host was Dropped_

This article, _The Day the Host was Dropped_, was posted on the Ars Orandi Traditional Catholic facebook page today.
Comment:
A couple of years ago, I came across a paper by a priest friend in which he offered the history of Communion in the Hand. While declining to present his personal opinion on this practice, he clearly noted that its history in America was marked by open dissent and rebellion against Rome. 

Currently, even though the Church designates the preferred manner for reception of Holy Comminion to be on the tongue while kneeling, most of our churches in America not only refuse to abide by this preference, but have either removed or currently have no communion rails.

To add to this architectural obstacle, individual accounts and personal experience provide evidence that, in parish sacramental preparation classes, communion in the hand and communion on the tongue are taught as equally acceptable options for receiving communion. In many cases, communion in the hand is even given a sort of pride of place in the teaching method.

In addition to the questionable promotion of communion in the hand, most parishes employ extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion in a manner which is at variance with prescriptions laid out in Church documents.* The result is that every Sunday and weekday the laity are witness to small platoons of these people distributing Holy Communion.

Mass instructs in many ways, by word and by example. Tragically, in our time, one lesson that comes through with all too much clarity is that dissent most effectually imposes change.


*Here's a link to a rundown of documents related to extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion. It also includes a brief history of the practice of receiving communion in the hand. The article includes the author's opinion, though my main concern in providing this link is the concise manner in which the documents are presented. That being said, this article, along with the link from Ars Orandi, make a good case against the current use of extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion in most of our parish chuches in America.

The Fire in the Forge

Over the last year and a half, I've heard four homilies on silence. The irony is that these homilies are offered in the context of the noisiest place I go: Mass in the Ordinary Form of the Roman Rite. From the choir practicing before Mass, to the non-stop, live-radio show presentation of the Mass, to the time after Mass when small talk rises to a din of laughter, raised voices, and sometimes even shouting, silence is a no-show. A further irony is that each homily presents places other than at Mass in which to seek prayerful silence.

I understand the importance of silence as illuminated by each homily: We pray from the silence of our hearts. In silence we hear the voice of God. In the silence, we encounter our Creator.  

I also understand the importance of Mass in presenting "the law of prayer" by which is established "the law of belief." It follows that this presentation of the "law of prayer" should, at the very least, present this truth: The laity must unite their individual prayers to the prayers of the priest in the Holy Sacrifice of Mass. For this to happen, it must be made possible to engage in interior prayer from the silence of the heart. For this, there must be Holy Silence.

Icon of the Holy Silence


I regard Mary's encounter with the Angel Gabriel, the Annunciation, to be the world's perfect moment of Holy Silence, a moment when sound and time froze as Mary regarded the Messenger of God, and a moment when all things began anew when Our Lady answered, "Yes."

While attending the Traditional Latin Mass, now called the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (EF), I began to recognize the silence of the Annunciation in the extended Holy Silence granted during this form of the Mass. Holy Silence allowed each person to approach God in a manner suited to each of them. Holy Silence not only allowed for interior participation, without which all else is superfluous, Holy Silence also fostered reverence and a sense of the sacred. Holy Silence not only granted the laity a means of conversing with God in the quiet of their hearts while in the Presence of God, but made our children witnesses to the reverence of their parents for the sacred mysteries.

"The law of prayer is the law of belief," as the Latin states.

Especially for children, silence is a powerful dynamic. It demands attention. It directs attention. With silence all around them, they see their family and the congregation kneeling and bowing their heads in prayer, and the law of prayer becomes written on a child's heart.

As a 3-year old, my youngest daughter knew a few prayers by heart, but did not know of the Real Presence. Yet, as she knelt in silence along with every other child and every mom and dad at the beginning and end of the EF, she seemed to regard those moments of prayer before the Holy of Holies as special, as extraordinary. As she grew older, around 5, her mom and I began her formal religious instruction. Even in the earliest stages, we could rely on the EF of the Mass, and especially the reverence inspired by Holy Silence, to clearly present the moral theology, or the theological consideration of behavior, associated with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass and the Real Presence.

Today, as an 8 year old, she kneels and prays after the OF Mass, shutting her eyes and ears to the din of voices and laughter all around her, unfazed by a friend from school who runs down the pew in front of her shouting her name. She seems a quiet calm in the tempest of noise as she prays.
  
The Mass has always been the most efficient, most practical means of teaching and passing on the faith, and as such, Holy Silence is the fire with which Catholic spirituality is forged through prayer. When the laity are not granted Holy Silence at Mass, they are essentially being told to find conversation with God elsewhere, and far too many Catholics have done just that.