The High Ground

Turning and turning in the widening gyre 
The falcon cannot hear the falconer; 
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; 

(WB Yeats, "The Second Coming")

I have a daily regimen of Catholic commentary and news sources. Many of the authors refer to the Church as a segmented entity. Descriptions commonly refer to "right," 'left," and a sort of hallowed "middle ground" to which all truth and right practices gravitate.

Recently, I even read a statement which implied that there is no truth outside of the middle ground, that "right" and "left" represent a false distinction and should more correctly be considered as degrees of rejection of the true Faith.

A brief survey comparing the Catholic Church before and after the Second Vatican Council reveals a sea change, in general, but most significantly, a change that profoundly affected all of Catholic life because it was the "summit of Catholic life": A change in the way Catholics prayed after the promulgation of the "New Order," the "Novus Ordo," the Mass of Pope Paul VI.

Never in the history of the Church was there such clear evidence of a rejection by so many of so much of what had been handed down from generation to generation. Never in the history of the Church had the liturgy undergone such dramatic and confusing changes, all for the sake of "...proclaiming the noble destiny of man and championing the Godlike seed which has been sown in him...." (Gaudium et spes, 1965) through the rally cries of ecumenism and actual participation.

I'm going to assume that anyone reading this knows of the dramatic, revolutionary changes that swept through the Church after the Second Vatican Council, because I do not intend to present that case here and now; and even if I were to set out to accomplish such a monumental task, we'd all be better served by referring to what's already been published.

What I am going to consider, though, is the concept of "middle ground," because it is that which carries the "false distinction."

A half-century of introducing experimentation, innovation, and novelty into the lifeblood of the Church —the liturgy— has resulted in a Catholic population buying into sophistry: that which most Catholics do is orthodox because that's what most Catholics do.

Here again, the problem with the liturgy must be acknowledged. Over the last half-century, what most Catholics do when it comes to praying the Mass is to engage in a creation-by-committee that, at its heart, was constructed to carry out the pastoral constitution of Vatican II: Proclaim the noble destiny of Man by focusing on Man.

This approach, or orientation, is diametrically opposed to the description offered by Jesus and offered in the text of the Mass, itself: Proclaim His death and resurrection, and that He will come again, the focus being on God.

So, where is the "middle ground" between "proclaiming the nobility of Man" and proclaiming (through commemoration) the death, resurrection, and the assurance that Christ will come again?

How can the "centre...hold" between a theocentric path revealed, initially by Our Lord and by the Holy Spirit through time, on the one hand, and a human-centric course ordered to constant adaptation to cultural and generational trends, on the other? The answer is "...the centre cannot hold" when the "...falcon cannot hear the falconer."

Catholics are not called to live on and defend some indeterminable, ever changing middle ground based on popular opinion or mistaken understanding of authentic organic development. In fact, such a place is more fittingly referred to as a "no man's land...an indeterminate or undefined place or state," or, historically, "a dumping ground between two fiefdoms."*

While there will always be contention among theologians as part of the organic development of Tradition and liturgy, in any given moment of history "the Summit of Catholic life" can not exist as a kind of "dumping ground" and to defend such a place is the vanity of idealogues. Instead, we are called to seek and defend the high ground according to our state in life and the talents given us.

The Holy Spirit, through time and generations of saints and faithful Catholics, has shown us the high ground, defended always, everywhere, and by all.

*definitions for 'no man's land' from wikipedia and Google

The Death of Martyrs Blossoms: On Priestly Sacrifice

By Father Scott Archer

Pope St. Gregory the Great said, “The death of the martyrs blossoms in the faith of the living.” A martyr is one who is put to death for the faith; not just any faith, but the true and Catholic faith. Martyrs are witnesses to the truth, and powerful reminders that the passion of Christ continues in the faithful who are members of His Mystical Body, and who unite their suffering and death with Christ. Martyrdom is seldom anticipated; martyrs are chosen by God. T.S. Eliot captures this in his play Murder in the Cathedral when his Thomas Becket says, “A martyr, a saint, is always made by the design of God, for His love of men, to warn them and to lead them, to bring them back to His ways. A martyrdom is never the design of man; for the true martyr is he who has become the instrument of God, who has lost his will in the will of God, not lost it but found it, for he has found freedom in submission to God. The martyr no longer desires anything for himself, not even the glory of martyrdom.”

Sacrifice and the priesthood are one, inasmuch as the life of the priest is perfected when he submits himself to the will of God. As the priest stands in the place of Christ at the altar, and is reminded daily of His sacrifice, the necessity of abandoning himself, like Christ, to the will of the Father is ever-present in his mind. “Father, if thou wilt, remove this chalice from me: but yet not my will, but thine be done.” We will never know the thoughts of Father Jacques Hamel as he began to offer Mass on the morning of Tuesday, July 26, 2016, in a small town in the Diocese of Rouen, France, the capital of Normandy. It was then, however, that he was called upon to give one last submission to the will of God. While offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, something he had done every day of his long priestly life, Islamists came into the church, forced him to his knees next to the altar, and slit his throat. The assailants offered prayers in Arabic as the horrified witnesses looked on. Father Hamel had offered a different sacrifice to God that day as he breathed his last.

We would be mistaken if we were to look upon this event with the eyes of the world; a world which has largely turned its back on Christ and His Church. God wishes us to see with the eyes of faith the joy of submission to His will, even to the offering of our very lives. As with most persecutions of the Church, the priests are the first to be put to death. The reason is clear and simple, as the prophet Zacharias wrote, “Strike the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.” It is a method, however, doomed to failure because God uses the blood of martyrs to strengthen the faith of His people. For those priests called to give their lives, it is a consequence of them already dying to self in order to answer the call of Christ to share in His priesthood. Priests offer sacrifice to God on behalf of mankind in the Mass for the living and the dead, and when they are also called to share intimately in the death of Christ by offering themselves in witness to the true faith, they find great joy. Offering the Sacrifice of the Mass is the reason for his being, while sacrificing himself means he has been found worthy to die for Christ to whom he was configured at his ordination.

Like Father Jacques Hamel, Blessed Noel Pinot offered his life for Christ in a manner illustrating how closely linked is the Mass with the sacrificial ideals of a priest. Blessed Noel lived during the French Revolution, and like so many persecutions before, the shepherds were struck down by the enemies of Christ. A priest and eyewitness said of Blessed Noel’s death, “The martyr prayed in a state of profound recollection. His countenance was calm and his brow radiated the joy of the elect. On his lips, so to say, one could follow the canticles of thanksgiving bursting forth from his heart.” On February 21, 1794, dressed in his priestly vestments at the foot of the scaffold, as he looked up at the guillotine he began the prayers he said every day at the foot of the altar; Introibo ad altare Dei (I will go in unto the altar of God).

I have little doubt that Father Hamel looked upon his final sacrifice with the eyes of faith; a faith he had nurtured during his entire priesthood. Let us not weep so much for him, as a priest sacrifices his whole life to carry out the will of God for his own salvation and that of the people; his martyrdom is a reminder that the priest is not here for himself. Let us rather be resolved to be more faithful to Christ and the Catholic Church—more resolved to pray for the virtue of fortitude against the rise of radical Islamic terrorism spreading across the world. His example must arouse our sleeping spirits to a rebirth of our commitment to Christ. Pray especially for all priests of the Church, that our zeal for souls ever increase, and our zeal for Christ and His Church never fail. 

Accompaniment

Analogies are never perfect, so why are people compelled to use them to describe a more complex situation which should be clear in the first place?

I suppose it's because an analogy diffuses volatile topics by changing the context. Instead of, for example, trying to take the bull by the horns and explain exactly why someone's passionate opinion on the pope, or the president, the constitution, or Vatican II is a one-way ticket to chaos and eating Soylent Green for every meal, the analogy comes to the rescue.

So, forgive me, but I am offering one more analogy to simplify the complex and to obfuscate the simple, to paraphrase a critique of Gen. George Pickett's use of analogies in the movie, "Gettysburg."

I recently discussed the proposition that the Church must accompany those who continue to live in mortal sin with no regrets and no firm purpose to amend their lives. Ambiguities in our current pope's way of speaking and writing have led some with authority in the Church to conclusions such as, the divorced and remarried (living like husband and wife) may receive communion so that the Church accompanies them; or, those living a homosexual lifestyle must be accompanied by the Church (and that phrase is liberally interpreted as meaning that they should be admitted to the Sacrament of Holy Communion); or, those living together outside of Sacramental Marriage must be accompanied by the Church where they are, again, the liberal interpretation being that they should receive all Sacraments which are granted to Catholics in a state of grace. The common rallying cry for these types of abuses is, Holy Communion is not just for the perfect, but for the weak as well. And, here again, the liberal-minded application of this concept is to allow reception by those who are in a state of mortal sin because, who is weaker and in more need?

To obfuscate the simple, and hopefully to take the issue out of the realm of Cult of Personality and loyalty to approaches established at the height of the liturgical revolution of the '60s and '70s, I humbly (and apologetically) offer my analogy of the day....

A year ago last Lent, through fasting and eating a low-carb diet, I lost 40 pounds. I decided to give myself a reward: I bought a new pair of jeans to accompany me at my new weight and also through continued weight loss.

But, situations arose that made it easy for me to excuse myself for falling back into my old eating habits, the habits that had led to me being about 50 pounds overweight in the first place.

I gained weight, slowly and steadily, and instead of accompanying me in leanness, my new jeans accompanied me through weight gain...all the way back to where I had started nearly a year and a half ago.

Funny thing is, my jeans still fit. In fact, they are loose in the thighs and the butt, places where jeans usually get too tight when I'm overweight, even by 15-20 pounds. But, my jeans became worn. They are thread bare in a couple of places. I had to buy some new jeans.

I bought a pair of carpenter jeans, same brand, same size as the ones that I have been wearing. I got them home, pulled them on...tugged at them...sucked in my gut, pulled and tugged the button into the button hole, and...there (gasp)...they're buttoned.

But, how could that same-size jeans that I was wearing moments ago, be so tight and uncomfortable?

Obviously, my comfy jeans had stretched out as they accompanied me through weight gain. My poor eating habits had been manifested twice over: I gained my weight back, and my jeans had stretched right along with me, ultimately, becoming a false size that reflects more of my bad eating habits than any true measurement of body size.

Well, same thing goes when those in the Church would adapt Her to the habits and minds of Men.