Catholic Sensibility

I just wanted to remind you that I'll be back to dissecting Vatican II chapter by chapter next week. On deck is Gaudium et Spes, the second of the council's constitutions on the Church. I don't plan to get sidetracked into the various behind-the-scenes stuff. Other people have done it with more resources than I could muster. And done it well. My intent is to put a thoughtful reflection into the reading of a Vatican II document like any other lay person could. I look at the questions: How does this seem with forty years' experience behind us? How is it relevant for an ordinary lay person? Does it resolve any of the differences within the Church or bring good insight to bear on the situation today? I don't think a hierarchical rendering of the sixteen documents is always a helpful idea. Sure, liturgy, the Bible, ecclesiology, and social justice are all vital to our identity as Christians. But if you're a seminarian or working for a seminary, Optatam Totius and Presbyterorum Ordinis are pretty derned important, too. And if social justice is your thing, who am I to suggest that this document is ahead of your fave? If any readers have thoughtful questions in advance of my postings, feel free to e-mail them to me. I'm glad to offer a platform for your thoughts here, especially if you don't have a blog and you have something constructive to offer. The same holds true for any topic you care to have me pontificate on. Let me also mention that my series on Gaudium et Spes will be simulblogged on Sollicitudo Rei Socialis. Nathan and I have yet to work out the fine details of this, but he's asked me to be a contributing writer to this blog as well. I'm happy to join the cadre of writers for this exploration and discussion of social justice. I'd like to think I have something of a justice sensibility. If so, my toughts on such matters are always colored by faith as well as the considerations of prayer and worship. I'll be contributing two essays each month to SRS. Please visit them, link them, and read, as you will.

Rock has the news: the Pope has authorized the use of form II reconciliation for St Peter's on Tuesday night of Holy Week. Any new sedevacantist popes on the schismometer yet?

Heading to my office for the first time in five days. I have no idea what piles of messages will be there. I have the afternoon to catch up on them, assess the mess ahead this weekend. (I don't schedule lectors or EM's on holidays, so it's hold my breath and hope for the best at our five Masses this weekend.) I told the pastor to call me at home if he needed me, but there's been no peep. I hope he wasn't buried in funerals or something. Had a good choir practice the other night. About half showed up, but many people were out of town or sick. It wasn't the week to work 'em hard--they actually appealed for an extra rehearsal the Sunday before Christmas because the one before that was pretty rough. We're using a gospel-style setting of Psalm 98 again. One of our newest singers ended up with the verses. (Our regular cantor for that piece was one of the sickies.) She did a stupendous job. I'm toying with doing my own arrangement of this piece for next week. It was originally a Georgian lullaby, which makes me feel a bit better about hauling in a secular ballet piece to play as a prelude. My friend Peter, who plays bass, has been working hard on teaching himself the cello this year. We have regular players of flute and violin in the group this year, plus I can always call on my favorite parish clarinetist. The piano part is simple enough, but if the cello is ready, I'll play hammered dulcimer on it. If all five of us are playing it, I'll need to spend a good bit of time arranging this so it sounds decent and not overdone. I'll probably be calling on my clarinet friend anyway; I want all the forces I can muster to make the musical portion of Epiphany shine.

I give him credit for trying. Fr Murphy, our diocesan vicar-general, is in residence at the parish. At the two Christmas Masses at which we overlapped, he prefaced reciting the Creed with the instruction to pause and genuflect at the words of the Nativity. If anyone did, years of liturgical brainwashing stampeded right through. I did see one person kneel all the way through the Creed. At the other Mass, I heard two elderly people sitting behind me say the Creed the way they've probably been saying it since 1966. It's a tough time to introduce something like this. I read the internet jibes about "So where was your pastoral sense when you rammed the vernacular, anti-orientam Mass down our throats?" (Forgetting that I was a pagan child when the New Missal was carved out of Italian marble.) When I say the people won't stand for massive changes in the Ordo Missae, I'm not just blowing it out to hear my whistle. I'm saying that we might not even get most of the clergy on board with this. It's been my practice to bow my head at the credal recollection of the Birth. It took me months to get into the habit, and occasionally, my mind wanders off at this point of the Mass and I miss it. It's the liturgical equivalent of trying to tell a kid something when she or he's at recess. You've been sitting tight listening to readings and a homily for the past fifteen to twenty minutes. Now you get to stand up, stretch, and say something. You think something's going to break through? Not with ease, it won't. It speaks to the issue of bringing a sense of mindfulness to the liturgy. New, improved rubrics aren't going to help. On another note, I applaud a bit of productive fallout from the new instructions on Eucharistic Ministers entering the sanctuary. The people are singing a substantial portion of the Communion Song--something they did less of in the past. At one Mass this Christmas, we actually got to the middle of verse 4 of "The First Nowell" before the priest and EM's were in place to begin distributing Communion. Anybody with more success on the Creed?

We're not big bread eaters. But we did get four loaves of various kinds for Christmas, so I feel honor-bound to consume them before the Kingdom Fungi does, so ... It's not a very original recipe, but Brittany liked it. She asked for it again the next day. All I did was pull some wheat bread slices, butter the opposite ends and put them in the frying pan. Then I layered sliced mozzarella with salami and pepperoni and put the halves together. Out of the pan, I cut into four strips, lengthwise. Consume with pizza sauce. One of my favorite grilled sandwiches is tuna and swiss on cinnamon-raisin. Did I ever mention that a bit of chopped apple in tuna salad delays that fishy odor? My mom told me about that one. I think we're down to two loaves now, but no cinnamon-raisin. This variety is the best.

2006 guide to finding the planets in the sky. Mercury: Venus: Mars: Jupiter: Saturn: Uranus: Neptune: Needless to say, if your backyard telescope is seeing with this detail, invite me over; I'll bring the food, the beer, and a fistful of reference books. Seriously, let me also suggest a trip to the local astronomy society for you and/or your family. Most amateur astronomers gather regularly with a fleet of telescopes and would be more than happy to welcome newcomers. The Astronomical League has many useful links to assist your locating like-minded amateurs in your area. Planetary views from the earth will never be as spectacular as these above -- what the probes send us. It is also true that many people find their first use of a telescope disappointing compared to the coffee table books offer. But the connection with people for this hobby (most any hobby, really) is invaluable, especially to the more impressionable among us.

Tough week for the child: switching beds from loft to floor (She misses getting tucked in.) meant everything in her "den" had to find a new place: closet, bed drawers, whatever. She had three shopping carts of things to donate to the poor, including 162 books. What a kid. The room's still a catastrophe, but we had mercy long before the end of the day. While I was cleaning out my den in the basement, I heard laughing and giggling, so I ascended to find the child's bedroom still catastrophic. My wife wisely Told the Story of how Brit came to live with us. It's an old story, really; our daughter certainly is familiar with the details. But she still cackles with glee over the discussion about who was going to drive home and who was going to sit in the back seat with her on the way. And other things. I fixed a nice dinner of smoked sausage, egg noodles, oven-baked potatoes and carrots with ginger sugar. Ice cream for dessert ... while we watched the third Star Wars movie ... I mean the sixth ... I mean the Ewok one from '83. 10:21 final credits shot the bedtime all to heck, but oh well ... Anita suggested I Tell the Story from my viewpoint next time. Funny thing is, I don't have much direct memory of the day we drove across Iowa to pick up our daughter-to-be at a farm near the Missouri River. My wife's version is esconced in tribal memory now. It was more than four-and-a-half years ago, and though it seems like last week in a way, it still feels blurry to both my heart and mind. She didn't know how to read then. Today over lunch, she picked up Anita's copy of A Christmas Carol that was sitting on the table. I didn't realize it until I got the first question, "Dad, what does borne, b-o-r-n-e mean?" Then it was, "What's a greatcoat?" Then it was, "What? Mom said this was a good story." Even if she wasn't the most avid reader in the family, I would still love my child to a blur.

I seem to have been sucked into some political tide pool today. Have mercy. I was thinking about the PPC lament, "Why do those anti-Catholic bigots say we don't care about anybody?" We have a problem with perception and PR here, naturally. Let's try to decipher it. 1. An active, vocal, and tenacious subset of American Catholics focuses solely on one issue: saving the unborn. When they have energy to spare, those among them in the public eye do not turn to fight the root causes of women making choices to abort their children. They turn to those who support the right to choose. And when that is deemed unsatisfactory, they attack those who support those who support the right to choose. And so on. 2. The result is that the public face of the pro-life movement has been tricked into looking like ... well, sheep. They take sides in a bitter family feud that was initially about money. They take sides in a personnel issue in a Catholic school in a far away diocese. They get caught up in the side issues that make them look like silly sheep in the light of the substantial life issues of the day: domestic hurricane relief, disaster relief abroad, unjust wars, a legal system that favors the rich and sends the poor to the electric chair. My sincere suggestion to my conservative pro-life Catholic friends is to start acting with some cunning like wolves. I can accept a person for whom abortion is the number one issue. But I'm less ready to condone an ideological firmament that doesn't place the number two or three or four issues on a plane nearly as important. I say this because the ESCR issue is quickly slipping away and if you have no cred with the fence-sitters on this gig, you'd dern well better get out of the way before you screw it up. You don't look like you're compassionate people because your secondary issues aren't comprehensible. Why are you getting your msm time hammering away at a principal who was too slow to fire a teacher? Why are you so fussed about where the presidential candidate went to church and if he received communion? Don't you see how this looks? Your number two could be any number of pressing issues that actually affect whether people live or die: Katrina relief, pre-natal care, poverty, capital punishment, the Iraq War, nuclear disarmament. Failing that, you could just go home after a long day picketing the clinic and hug your kids extra tight. Mainstream USA gives you no cred. And think twice, if you think this is a suitable martyrdom. It's not. Martyrdom isn't whining about anti-Catholic bias in the media. Martyrdom actually hurts and causes physical death and suffering. Like what ordinary, everyday, non-rich people in Iraq, New Orleans, Pakistan, Guatemala, or your nearest drug fiefdom experience. Show some compassion for the unborn, by all means. Make yourselves sly enough to show compassion for their moms, their friends, and a few other people as you go. Mother Teresa was just as anti-abortion as anyone else, but only the dimwitted consider her without compassion or concern. PPC, or not to be: that is the question.

An open book commenter mused: Todd: If I understand correctly ... you are (a) pro-life liberal Democrats. As such, what have you done to end abortion other than vote for politicians who are devoted wholly to keeping abortion legal? Since 1980 or so without exception every Democratic politician of any consequence has been outspoken in his or her support of abortion and most have been in the pocket of Planned Parenthood. As is well known, pro-lifers were purged from the Democratic party long ago. To me being pro-life and a Democrat is a contradiction in terms. I believe I self-identified as an "anti-abortion liberal." Heaven knows why or how someone would assume that makes me a Democrat. Liam has pointed out (if he had a blog, I could link it) that it was the Republicans who floated the notion of legal abortion in the 60's, probably to pad the coffers of the rich. Even today, the R's are remarkably squishy on the issue, but not squishy enough to lose the Religious All-Right. I do confess I've supported Democrats -- even pro-choice ones -- at the polling booth. I've cast votes for R's, too. After all, you can't have an organization as large as a national political party and not have someone vote-worthy or moral. Even if they mostly are tax-dodging suits with back-pocket scandals waiting to break. Wasn't Abe Lincoln a Republican? I offer this as more evidence of the "Triumph of Personal Experience" mindset that has infected conservatives as liberally as any other ideology. I don't know why someone wouldn't take me at my word when I say I'm an "antiabortion liberal." I'm not alone. I don't protest at abortion clinics mainly because I've given up on the public protest route. I don't protest at military complexes anymore either. That doesn't mean I'm no longer a pacifist.

Desert Monks (for the End of the Year) I haven't had much internet access lately. I suppose, though, that I can give you one more post for the end of the year, which raises the frightening possibility of an "end of the year" post. I doubt that anyone should really care about my favorite book of the year or anything like that, but the book that I did find myself glancing at over and over was probably Rowan Williams' short Where God Happens: Discovering Christ in One Another, mainly because it seemed to expose the most flaws in my own behavior. I've already linked to a Beliefnet excerpt from the book, nicely titled "Don't Follow Your Heart." Here is another rather challenging excerpt from the book, which might help form some New Year's resolutions. (Of course, let me first wish anyone who might come across this a very Happy New Year.) The desert monastics are keenly interested in diagnosing what sort of things get in the way and block someone else's relation with Christ. They seem very well aware that one of the great temptations of religious living is the urge to intrude between God and other people. We love to think that we know more of God than others; we find it comfortable and comforting to try to control the access of others to God. Jesus himself speaks bluntly about this when he describes the religious enthusiasts of his day shutting the door of the Kingdom in the face of others: "You do not enter yourselves, and when others try to enter, you stop them" (Matt 23:13). And he goes on to describe how such people exert themselves to gain even one convert, but because they are only trying to make others in their own image, they make them twice as worthy of condemnation as themselves (15). The desert teachers are well aware that by fleeing to the isolation of prayerful communities, they do not automatically leave behind this deep-rooted longing to manage the access of other people to God, and this is why they insist upon an ever-greater honesty about the self; this is why the "manifesting of thoughts" to a senior brother and sister becomes so crucial - because we are all drawn almost irresistibly back toward this urge to manage. One of the most frequent ways in which this becomes visible, they suggest, is inattention, the failure to see what is truly there in front of you - because your own vision is clouded by self-obsession or self-satisfaction. There are several variants of a story in which some young monk goes in despair to one of the great "old men" to say that he has consulted an elder about his temptations and been told to do severe and intolerable penance, and the old man tells the younger one to return to his first counselor and tell him that he has not paid proper attention to the need of the novice. If I don't really know how to attend to the reality that is my own inner turmoil, I shall fail in responding to the needs of someone else. And the desert literature consistently suggests that excessive harshness, a readiness to judge and prescribe, normally has its roots in that kind of inattention to oneself. Abba Joseph responds to the invitation to join in condemning someone by saying, "Who am I?" And the phrase might suggest not just "Who am I to be judging?" but also "How can I pass judgement when I don't know the full truth about myself?" Among the longest collections of sayings attributed to particular desert fathers are those around the names of Macarius the Great and Poemen (granted that Poemen, "the shepherd," may be a name concealing several different figures), and these collections have in common an exceptional number of sayings on the subject of the dangers of harshness and self-satisfaction. Of Macarius, we read, in an unforgettable image, that "he became like a God on earth" because when he saw the sins of the brothers, he would "cover" them, just as God casts his protection over the world. Informed of a self-confident old monk whose counsel has depressed others, Macarius pays a visit: When he was alone with him, the old man [Macarius] asked, "How are things going with you?" Theopemptus replied, "Thanks to your prayers, all is well." The old man asked, "Do you not have to battle with your fantasies?" He answered, "No, up to now all is well." He was afraid to admit anything. But the old man said to him, "I have lived for many years as an ascetic and everyone sings my praises, but, despite my age, I still have trouble with sexual fantasies." Theopemptus said, "Well, it is the same with me, to tell the truth." And the old man went on admitting, one by one, all the other fantasies that caused him to struggle, until he had brought Theopemptus to admit all of them himself. Then he said, "What do you do about fasting?" "Nothing till the ninth hour," he replied. "Fast till evening and take some exercise," said Macarius. "Go over the words of the gospel and the rest of Scripture. And if an alien thought arises within you, don't look down but up: the Lord will come to your help." Self-satisfaction is dealt with not by confrontation or condemnation but by the quiet personal exposure of failure in such a way as to prompt the same truthfulness in someone else: the neighbor is won, converted, by Macarius' death to any hint of superiority in his vision of himself. He has nothing to defend, and he preaches the gospel by simple identification with the condition of another, a condition others cannot themselves face honestly. How easy to go in and say, "I know you suffer these temptations"; Macarius refuses this easy way and goes instead by the way of "dying to the neighbor," refusing to judge and exposing himself to judgment.

Dale reports an alarmingly familiar adventure. I remember my brother's first visit to Iowa, long years ago, when the Bucs still inhabited the NFC Norris. Anita and I had just moved into our first home and my bro was in town with his fiancee and his son Adym from his first marriage. I had proudly scored five tix for the Vikes-TB game. So Sunday morning, we piled into my '88 Mazda 323 and headed north, despite ice and blizzard-like conditions. Recalling my previous NFL outing in Detroit in '94, I knew my brother liked to get there early and watch warm-ups, taking a few photos of goings-on. (I don't know if that violates the NFL copyright, but ...) Not only had I navigated the backroads from Waterloo, Iowa to I-35 masterfully, but despite my brother's fretting about the weather, we were going to hit the game early. But not quite early enough, I was thinking. Gotta make this trip a perfect one for my bro. Did I get slapped back. I was not content to hum along at 45mph on an icy interstate, but decided to attack the passing lane with a bit of overconfidence. Twelve to fifteen seconds later, after a bit of spinning, my little car ended upside-down in a snow bank. I crawled out of the car and once I realized everyone was safe, I jumped up and down pounding the ground with my feet in anger at myself for spoiling my brother's football adventure. My first car was spinning tires and I was looking at the underside. Anita reminded me that night that we had been very, very fortunate: - nobody was hurt - we all got to the game on time - she had come down with the flu the night before and couldn't go to the game, therefore ... - our nephew was buckled in the front seat instead of sloshing around the back with his dad (who didn't buckle in) - if I had been such a bad driver, the accident would have been far worse ... - and mainly, nobody got hurt Being the prideful sort, it took me some days to get past my anger and realize that I became a better ad more respectful driver because of this episode. I'd never had a serious accident, and hence, I never had a full respect for poor driving conditions. I reflected on any number of settings where that mishap would've been worse: plowing into a sign, plowing into another vehicle or two, plowing off an overpass. I thank God for his providential hand on us that day. As it was, my brother enjoyed his game -- except for the final result. (The Bucs were still on the cusp.) Despite his being dressed in bright orange (two years previously he had opted for leather in the Pontiac Silverdome) we were picked up by some kindly violet-clad Viking fans. We made it to the stadium in plenty of time for kickoff. I will always remember the alarming sound of tires sliding and crunching on ice--still a warning. But I also remember with a smile my nephew's reaction when we came to our flip-flopped stop: "Dad, I'm upside down! Get me outta here!"

Another great moniker to go along with SCGS ... PPC It should really be titled Keillor versus Irate Catholic Listener, because I don't really think this kind of give-and-take is on Benedict's event horizon as pope. Painting Garrison Keillor as anti-Catholic is a bit extreme. He's a comedian. He makes fun of people and things, and if he's anti-Catholic, I'm afraid the Lutherans have taken the number ahead of RC's if we're talking what comes to pass his lips from Lake Wobegon. I really wish my companion Catholics would give up this whining the first sign somebody disagrees with them or pokes fun. It's the same kind of victimhood the crunchy-cons criticize in just about every other minority group. It makes me want to ask, "Do you want the biggest boat in the pond, or do you want to be like every other oppressed minority?" Sheesh, if you want to be the One, Holy, and Only, for heaven's sake, start acting like it.

Zenit is off this week, so I comb through CNS for my Catholic news fix. After my favorite blogs, of course. I read of the Tucson solution for bankruptcy, and thought, didn't something like this get the St Louis archbishop and those Polish folks in trouble? The plan calls for each parish to be run by a five-member board of directors composed of the pastor as board head, the bishop, the diocesan moderator of the curia, a lay treasurer and a lay secretary. Doing the math (I couldn't resist) and the clergy have a 3-2 majority on every board. Plus, the bishop and his moderator now have seventy-four more committees on which to sit. I don't recall anything like this when I read the Vatican II documents on clergy and laity this year. Might be legal, but it has a curious whiff of the convenience of modernism. That said, I really don't think parishioners should lose their parish property because of the clumsy or immoral practices of present or historical bishops.

Major college bowl games: haven't seen one yet, nor do I plan to. I'm not terribly interested in this system which attempts to pit the numbers one and two college teams against each other. Then it takes the next six or eight-best teams (more or less) and matches them up. Then it takes the best of the rest, plus big money schools that scraped together six wins to maximize tourist and tv dollars. Here's my suggestion for the system that looks like a 98-lb weakling compared to the NCAA Women's ... Division III Dance. Move all traditional bowl games to August and institute what every other college sport on every other level does: a true playoff system. Institute an eight-team or even 16-team tournament. If it makes the bowl folk feel any better, offer December/January editions of fifteen bowls--the tournament games major college football should have. August Bowls would hype interest in various teams before baseball pennant races get hot. If the big money schools with six wins in the previous year want an extra game, let 'em have one. Some northern cities might get to go bowling too (Seattle's Microsoft Latte Bowl, Chicago's Boeing Windy Bowl, and the like). The traditional bowls stay happy, get a second game each year, and might draw better for a sunny Saturday afternoon or a cool August evening than some wintry setting matching teams with a good handful of losses between them. Heck, everybody in an August bowl would be undefeated. Every bowl game could sell it has the national champion in the making. In the meantime, major college football has never determined a champion, and in my mind, the only Division I football champion of 2005 is Appalachian State. They won more playoff games this year than any I-A team won bowl games in the past three years.

Actually, it's quite boring to an outside observer. Each day, I've slept later, showered later, brushed my teeth later, and fixed the child's breakfast later. But does it feel good to roam around the house in pajamas! I imagine it must have been like this for medieval aristocracy, hunkered down in their drafty castles, wrapped up with blankets and hunting dogs, and feasting off leftovers while the children got into mischief. Minus the tv, computer, and blowtorch, of course. Here's a little moral dilemma for any of you Monday morning moral theologians in the audience: (Beware: soft sciences advisory) Our next-door neighbor confided to my wife a few weeks ago in passing her live-in fiance "had a temper." (No wonder we've not been seen on the premises in weeks.) Said ex-fiance came to our door today asking for a ride to CVS to get a card and pick up a purchase. Before I fully collected my wits, I agreed. On the drive, he mentioned he has a big feast prepared for "his wife's" return. After my return, I consulted with my wife. While I was getting into decent clothing, he had lied to my wife, saying ___ was "his wife." This was their snippet as related to me post-chauffer: "___ got married?!" my wife asked. "Well, we're actually engaged, but I get tired of referring to her as my fiancee," he said. My wife did concede our neighbor mentioned her friend ___ was going to be spending the week. Was that the dude's name? I asked. (I'm not really on much of a familiarity with my neighbors, I must confess.) My wife than mentioned that after he temper-challenged fiance's departure, she changed the locks and installed a security system. Clearly, if I had her work number, we'd call to confirm all this. I could call the police and land everybody in one embarassing mess, if we were wrong and she did take Mr Temper back. The kicker was that he does know we gave her some curtains--a fact he could only have learned from his (ex?) fiance directly. We're keeping a close eye on the house next door, and if there's even a rumble to suggest a problem, well, as they say in Rome, IX, I, I. I think you have to be on more than a chat-over-the-fence, I-don't-know-your-last-name-or-your-work-number to tell someone that temper-challenged boyfriends are not the prime fish of the sea. What would you have done?

Titled at the risk of getting some porn links, but what the hey ... I lived in this mindset all the time in my college days. Most of my friends were "hard" science majors, like me: physics, engineering, biology, geology, and the like. We all ridiculed psych majors and their kind. We wanted our world well-defined, known, and explained by a mathematical model, or the closest thing to it. Regarding the "soft" sciences, Tony suggests, "Because the results are not verifiable, and are basically people's opinions without hard data, they are susceptable to be spun any way that people want them to." Let me clue you in: "hard" scientists do the same. Lots of people cannot verify results to an absolute degree of satisfaction: theoretical physicists, evolutionary biologists, among others. Two scientists can have the same package of data, hard facts, if you will, and arrive at two different conclusions. Additionally, we must concede theology is a "soft" science as well. There is no data to tell us homosexuals are depraved, immoral, and flawed. None at all. Are you aware that there are some psychologists who not only claim that pedophilia is normal and natural, but that it's beneficial to the children too? I am. But did you not get my baseball or alcohol analogies? The whole point is that some people have already arrived at their conclusion without sufficient data, then go off in search of observed phenomena to reinforce their own beliefs. That's not hard science. The ease of promoting the latest psychological theory without any requirement of hard data makes the entire "discipline" suspect. The link between latest theories and the positive stature of an entire discipline has not been proved. We don't know why small Saturnian moons have geological activity. Does that make the science of astrogeology suspect? We don't know why the universe behaves differently than the gravitational pull of observed matter would suggest. Does that put the kabosh on physics?

If the glorification of personal experience is a failing of modern culture, then the conservatives have been coopted at least as badly as the mainstream. In some of the last few threads, guests tout their own personal stories (if you will) as part of their main argument for their particular ideologies. I know of several conservatives who have slammed such similar thinking elsewhere, decrying the so-called triumph of the subjective over the truth. First, let's confess this is a human failing, not endemic (or even particularly epidemic) to any specific ideology. An example of a white athlete: Let's say that this person has an experience of getting his butt kicked by other athletes who happen to be black. It's a tough experience, and the white athlete grudgingly concedes these opponents are better. That's an example of personal experience teaching someone a valuable lesson: I can't always win, and some people are better than I. Let's suppose our athlete takes this lesson a bit further: blacks are better athletes than whites, and begins making life suppositions around that extended principle: Blacks are good in athletics, but Whites are good in other things, maybe most other things. "I'm better," the athlete thinks, "in everything else but athletics ... and the rest of us are, too." You see the problem in the progression, right? The person has failed to make logical connections from the initial experience and the first conclusion. One might suspect that emotions such as bitterness, regretfulness, envy, and such have colored the subsequent judgments. This is one reason why racism and sexism are so prevalent in many modern societies. An initial limited experience is stretched to encompass things that do not logically follow. The comment about dismissing sociology and psychology because they treat homosexuality favorably. Vatican II teaches that the social sciences have much to offer the Church. Does it suggest we embrace the totality of the social sciences? It does not. These disciplines are tools to achieve greater ends: a healthier priesthood, being one. The American Medical Association does not accept homosexuality as a disorder. Do we reject surgery, pharmacology, gynecology, pediatrics, and other medical disciplines? Naturally not. In baseball, we occasionally have bench-clearing brawls. Terrible. Bad example for kids and adults alike. Do we reject baseball because of it? Baseball teaches teamwork, develops physical skill, and is a darned entertaining pasttime. When a brawl breaks out, we sit down, read our novel, go to the restroom, or head for the parking lot. We don't boycott baseball. Alcoholics abuse drink and cause untold suffering to their families. There are tens of millions of active alcoholics in the world, reaping unbelievably widespread damage in the wake of their addiction. Is our solution to shut down breweries, wineries, bars, and liquor stores? You tell me. People will continue to abuse logic to further their arguments. It happens; we make mistakes. We are prejudiced and permit our biases to color our judgment. What other conclusions can I add? 1. Being blinded by bias is not usually a stunning shortcoming. It is universal, in fact. Conservatives could recognize that. 2. Sometimes our biases help us to react more quickly and appropriately in situations which might demand less thought and more reaction. The internet is not usually one of those arenas. Writing and dialogue on blogs gives us more of an opportunity to ponder, reflect, and pray about what words come out of our brains. 3. Sometimes our modus operandi is to get an ideology, then go out and search for only the facts that fit our mindset. I'd prefer to be a more open observer of the universe and try to draw conclusions from what I learn, rather than learn only the things that fit my conclusions. Merry Christmas, all.

Vatican II called for training seminarians in psychology and sociology, but somehow neglected to mention updating the already-ordained in these disciplines. I had a nice chat with our dicoese's most recently ordained deacon (on his way to the presbyterate) last night before Mass. Someone told him the Serra Club event was 5PM. I could sympathize; someone told me 6:30, which I put in my appointment calendar, but the parish schedule had it listed for 6. Anyway, Steve and I were talking about one blinding weakness from the chancery group-mind: What changes have we seen in the past three generations in Catholics attending secular colleges over Catholic institutions, and how does this affect the twenty-something vocation landscape, especially considering the cutbacks in campus ministry the past twenty years? I don't know if all of today's seminarians are conservatives, but if they do trend in that direction, is it because they're the only group the old guard targets? And if it's true, is the so-called JPII Priesthood only a weak half-sister compared to the pre-WWII boon? That's hardly a movement of the Spirit, I'd say.

Some of last week's work from Cassini: First, tiny Atlas caught with Saturn's rings nearly edge-on: Here's a crescent Tethys. The sun is low on some cratered terrain, but also a valley. I think it's part of Ithaca Chasma. Surface features on this moon are named for characters from Homer. This little beauty is Telesto, which shares an orbit with its larger sister Tethys. Enceladus, the moon with ice geysers is caught from about 150,000 miles away. A few craters, but lots of grooves and smooth areas. The presumption is that ice melts in the interior of this small moon, and escapes through fountains at the south pole. Enceladus has a far weaker gravity than our own moon, so ice particles escape the body to form a faint ring around Saturn in Enceladus's neighborhood. We have the facts on this, but no solid theories why this happens on such a small moon. Jupiter's moon Europa, also fairly smooth and crater-free, is flexed internally by tides raised by its larger companions Io and Ganymede. The Earth has a warm liquid interior because of heat generated by radioactive elements. By conventional wisdom, 300-mile wide Enceladus should be a solid ice cube: nowhere near big enough to have radioactive heat, no moons nearby to raise slushy interior tides. I like this shot of Mimas near the rings. They almost flew Pioneer 11 through that gray section of ring back in 1979. From Earth it appears dark and was named the Cassini division, for its seventeenth century discoverer. A trip through the ring would be most hazardous to one's structural integrity.

One of my stumbling blocks is envy. I cannot deny I'm jealous of and respectful of Rock's juicy exclusives and firsts. For one night, let me pass on some fresh bishop news, small and humble though it may be. We hosted our diocese's annual Serra Club gathering tonight: Mass and dinner with the bishop. Bishop Finn gave a good homily, though I missed the first half hunting down a tabernacle key and getting it to a seminarian. Anyway, what I caught was the best of the four or five homiles I've heard him deliver. He told a disarming story about his experience of reflecting on martyrdom, wondering if he would be able to accept such a "blessing," and all. After his prayer time, he returned to the sacristy, and cut his finger on a slice of paper in the drawer. After a short time of fussing and getting angry, he realized God had given him his answer rather immediately. "A pathetic martyr" he referred to the situation. Two gems from his homily: Christ at Christmas is small. The martyrdoms we are asked to undertake are likewise small: students keeping to their studies, parents caring for spouses and children. The small, but daily things we are asked to do: setting aside our own desires, caring for others. The true measure of holiness is the willingness to submit to the slow path to sanctification. Perhaps it seems as if Stephen and the others had it easy, and I'm often reminded of the quote on Amy's web site, "She could never be a saint, but she thought she could be a martyr if they killed her quick." The point seems to be that for almost all of us Christians, we are not being killed "quick," but we have that arduous and long path with the pitfalls of our own envy, impatience, anger, and other qualities that tear us away from holiness. I don't pray or reflect much on being a martyr; it enough for me to struggle with being weighed down by daily junk. Merry Christmas, all!

Frequent guest Tony asked about yesterday's post, "When I first read this entry, I asked myself 'what the heck is a "liturgist?" Isn't that what a priest is for?'" I suppose a priest in a very small to small parish would be doing more or less of what falls under my job description. As we were fortunate to have our parish clergy augmented by our retired former pastor and the diocesan vicar general this past weekend, there is a certain amount of coordination needed to keep clergy happy. Servers, for example. One priest wanted to have his occasional assistant (and nephew) work with servers, so that meant making a number of phone calls last Monday night and unearthing various incense blends for consideration. Certainly the kinds of things priests can do if they have one or two Christmas Masses. But not likely for an eight-Mass Christmas. The retired priest offered to rehearse the servers for his own Mass. Our new associate pastor, as I commented yesterday, saw the various smells and bells trotted out for the earlier Masses and decided that would be good to have for the 8PM Eve Mass, too. I didn't mind at all putting servers through paces and making assignments before Mass. It freed Fr Walt to greet people as they came in for liturgy--the kind of up-front thing our pastor himself models and approves of for any staff person. When I stand out there on Christmas Day and open car doors and escort elderly people in, the C&E Catholics in the crowd have no real clue as to who I might be. The priest is pretty noticeable and probably makes a good impression there. Well, you get my drift on that. "I was thinking that most 'liturgists' in modern parishes are a lot like ringleaders in a circus, making sure that the 'acts' in the 'rings' are meshing properly so all are appropriately entertained." I'm not sure about the entertainment thing. We don't always keep the heavy contributors happy and the gravy train running from the ritzy end of town, like they might have done in the old days. In almost twenty years, I've only ever had one priest who took a regular turn at the organ bench, and he was one of three in a parish. No, most modern liturgists do the music thing that their lay predecessors did in previous generations. They might be somewhat better trained on average, musically and theologically. In my case, I benefit from having an organist on staff, which frees me up to do my three musical Masses, train servers for a fourth, and cover all kinds of bases for the fifth and last for which we had no volunteers other than two servers and a cantor. (Trust me, our vicar general wasn't pleased at the prospect of distributing Communion single-handed to three-hundred-plus people at noon yesterday.) I remain amazed at the bitterness Catholics have toward certain sisters and brothers in faith. It might be one thing if it were a noble deal to harbor hurts and grievances from a liturgist of the past, but the Gospel would suggest not. It might be another thing if people lacked the freedom to find a parish suited to their temperament, but curiously, the people who have said freedom and make that choice are often the most embittered of all, at least in e-print. Even assuming that some Catholics were truly our adversaries in faith, one might suggest that it is to one's benefit to actually learn about one's enemies and gain factual information. Such an approach has benefitted battlefield commanders through the millennia. If this is indeed a fight of some sort, knowing one's adversary, rather than laboring in ignorance and misinformation, would actually help carry the fight, as it were. As it is, I'm afraid the questions and curious challanges remain more of an amusement to me than something to take too seriously. If you don't believe me, follow my parish link on the sidebar and ask my pastor. I tell him about y'all from time to time, so be advised, he's been advised. Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, all! As my weekend winds down, I had to laugh at the thought of a large parish doing without a liturgist, a development a few of my guests on CS would relish. I confess sleeping late yesterday, but as soon as Anita cleared the premises, Brit and I wrapped up some presents for her, unearthed the tree from the basement and had it set up by the time my wife returned home. I was on the premises by 12:30 at the parish, running programs, collection baskets, and a Lectionary off to the school auditorium for 3:30 Mass. The Chiefs had their game wrapped up by halftime, so we had our usual huge crowd coming for double Masses: 600 in the Church; 300 in the school. Our Sunday Ensemble played at the 6pm Mass, then it was a quick drive home to drop off the women and get me back to brief servers for 8:00 Mass. Fr Walt decided he liked the incense and gospel processions the priest did at the other two church Masses, so what the heck, let's do it again at 8. (That's what they pay me for: letting clergy or other folks make decisions and get me to make sure it happens.) Afterward, I grabbed a quick dinner in the parish office and polished off my music outlines for Midnight Mass, which has traditionally been a pick-up choir. I had a few teens from the Sunday 5pm Mass, two singers from the big choir which does two of our eight liturgies, and various musicians mostly less involved in regular parish music. What a group! Five men and six women; they did such a marvelous job. I got home about 1:15 after locking up the church, waking my wife. Then it was off to the basement to wrap Santa stuff. I was still pretty wired when my head hit the pillow at 3am; it took me some minutes to get to sleep. Brittany came roaring in at 6:50, "Presents! Presents! Let's get up!" (You parents know the routine.) I confess to skipping the 8am Mass; my wife rightly puts her foot down when the option is delaying unwrapping to early afternoon. I'm pleased at some great kitchen gear from Santa this year; including a very cool blow torch (actually a Creme Brulee set) and a new blender to replace a ten-year-old wedding present. I have sacristan duty at our last Mass at noon. After lockdown, I hope to get in some serious zz's while Brittany watches Mulan or Shark Tale or Narnia. I don't think we'll be making Creme Brulee today. Come to think of it, I forgot to pick up chicken at the store yesterday, so it looks like a trip to IHOP or maybe some "Chinese Turkey." Anyway, sorry to be the scrooge for my crunchy-con friends out there. Priests are wise enough never to fire their liturgists before or on Christmas. For one more day, we're having great fun with the Church's liturgy, filling the pews by the vanload, singing fairly sappy and sentimental songs. The Barque is boarded to the brim today, and SCGS* folks are bound to be muttering in their Christmas brandy. Peace on Earth, good will to all, and a hope that a few of them will come back next Sunday. * small church, getting smaller

No one need spend Christmas alone. You could be with your family and friends. Failing that, you could be with the poor and needy. Either way, you could be singing, making merry, keeping festival, and thanking God for the gift of grace, incarnate in the Son, Jesus. Leaving off the with the words of Christina Rosetti ... In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone. Snow had fallen, snow on snow. Snow on snow, in the bleak midwinter, long ago. Our God, heaven cannot hold him nor earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away, when he comes to reign. In the bleak midwinter, a stable place sufficed the Lord God Almighty Jesus Christ. Enough for him, whom cherubim worship night and day, a breastful of milk and a manger full of hay. Enough for him, whom angels fall down before, the ox and ass and camel which adore. Angels and archangels may have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air: But only his mother in her maiden bliss worshipped the Beloved with a kiss What can I give him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; If I were a wise man, I would do my part; yet what I can I give him, give my heart.

I notice on Amy's liturgy thread a commenter named Joe has been giving as good as he gets. Indeed, he's already been painted as a heretic for daring to disagree with the Liturgical Echo Chamber that often passes itself off as mainstream St Blog's Catholic. None of my favorite foils has yet suggested Joe and I are the same person. (In their world, Catholicism--or should we say "o"rthodoxy-- is one happy, tight-knit small boat, and "dissenters" are but few. Or one.) Brigid, didn't I say someone new would come along to tweak some liturgical noses?

Optatam Totius includes an unnumbered conclusion: The Fathers of this holy synod have pursued the work begun by the Council of Trent. While they confidently entrust to seminary administrators and teachers the task of forming the future priests of Christ in the spirit of the renewal promoted by this sacred synod, they earnestly exhort those who are preparing for the priestly ministry to realize that the hope of the Church and the salvation of souls is being committed to them. They urge them also to receive the norms of this decree willingly and thus to bring forth most abundant fruit which will always remain. This minor document does contain details that would have great impact on the Church and its life. The experience of the seminarian is mostly beyond the view of the ordinary Catholic. We see the initial stirrings of discernment in our parishes and other outlets. A student is sent away for three to five years, and comes back a newly minted priest. The studies and the life experiences both render a change in a person. Maybe the changes are more or less obvious. My reading of Optatam Totius leaves me with some general observations about seminarians, young priests, and how I see their ministry in the Church. I've known several priests at the beginning of their ministry and a few seminarians. I'd assess that their training is substantial, but by no means complete. Most of them admit the real learning happens when they take charge of a parish as pastor. While some might say, "Then the education really begins," I'd suggest instead it is in the parish where the pastoral outlook meets the book knowledge and a priest makes his own mark, as best he can. The Vatican II optimism about the application of psychology and other social sciences to ministry is evident. Striking is the emphasis on a "catholic" approach to ministry. Some St Bloggers, even clergy, are too readily given to shirking this in favor of an "orthodox" approach. The Council naturally assumes loyalty to Church doctrine isn't even an issue. Maybe that's an overconfidence we can't afford. Still, the notion that a priest is trained to have a broad effectiveness in ministry can't be denied. The collapse of the seminary system for minors is part of the landscape of the past decades. More often than not, a seminarian has been educated as an undergraduate outside of seminary. It would seem that colleges would provide a significant opportunity for searching for candidates and discerning their vocations. Yet most dioceses ignore or slash funding for student parishes, a trend I found alarming when I served in campus ministry in the mid-90's. If this document were rewritten today, I suspect a more intense look at recruiting priest-candidates in non-Catholic colleges, and in the young adult world would be merited. The Church's failure might be tagged at that most basic level of discernment: the choice to move forward seriously at the first signs of a vocation. From what I've seen of American seminaries, this decree has been more or less well implemented. If the challenge is to steer more good candidates into seminaries, I don't think the Church has taken that charge too seriously. More often, there's a sense of entitlement in operation: "We're Catholics, we're the one true Church; we deserve more priests ... where the heck are they?!" It takes work.

Optatam Totius 21 shows the council bishops had their thinking caps on. They concede the degreed young priest is still a work in progress: Since priestly training, because of the circumstances particularly of contemporary society, must be pursued and perfected even after the completion of the course of studies in seminaries, it will be the responsibility of episcopal conferences in individual nations to employ suitable means to this end. Such would be pastoral institutes working together with suitably chosen parishes, meetings held at stated times, and appropriate projects whereby the younger clergy would be gradually introduced into the priestly life and apostolic activity, under its spiritual, intellectual, and pastoral aspects, and would be able, day by day, to renew and foster them more effectively. Thoughts?

Optatam Totius 20 says it: They should also be taught to use the aids which the disciplines of pedagogy, psychology, and sociology can provide, according to correct methodology and the norms of ecclesiastical authority. The social sciences get a bad rap from bishops and neo-cons looking out for scapegoats, but the value of using aids from psychology and sociology was a repeated theme in the council documents. Simple really: make good use of a tool that will achieve a good end. Likewise, let them be properly instructed in inspiring and fostering the apostolic activity of the laity and in promoting the various and more effective forms of the apostolate. At least until we reach tyhe point at which the laity can form new generations of apostles. Let them also be imbued with that truly Catholic spirit which will accustom them to transcend the limits of their own diocese, nation, or rite, and to help the needs of the whole Church, prepared in spirit to preach the Gospel everywhere. Catholicity a virtue over orthodoxy, as it were: a spirit that would also transcend ideology, politics, and that curious movement for a smaller Church. That would pretty much seem to be out the window with this, wouldn't it? But since it is necessary for the students to learn the art of exercising the apostolate not only theoretically but also practically, and to be able to act both on their own responsibility and in harmonious conjunction with others, they should be initiated into pastoral work, both during their course of studies and also during the time of vacations, by opportune practical projects. Aha! See this? Students of seminary should learn responsibility and collaboration with others. Pastoral work should be part of the formation/education process. These should be carried out in accordance with the age of the students and local conditions, and with the prudent judgment of the bishops, methodically and under the leadership of men skilled in pastoral work, the surpassing power of supernatural means being always remembered. We're heading into the stretch run of Optatam Totius; one of your last opportunities for comment. Care to?

And if we happen to stumble across a little beauty, that's a bonus. Check the Cassini link on the sidebar for more pics (usually B&W) and for the scientific details.

A two for one post tonight. Optatam Totius 17 & 18. Starting with the first of these sections: But since doctrinal training ought to tend not to a mere communication of ideas but to a true and intimate formation of the students, teaching methods are to be revised both as regards lectures, discussions, and seminars and also the development of study on the part of the students, whether done privately or in small groups. Unity and soundness of the entire training is carefully to be provided for by avoiding an excessive multiplication of courses and lectures and by the omission of those questions which scarcely retain any importance or which ought to be referred to higher academic studies. And section 18: It will be the bishops' concern that young men suited by temperament, virtue, and ability be sent to special institutes faculties, or universities so that priests may be trained at a higher scientific level in the sacred sciences and in other fields which may be judged opportune. Thus they will be able to meet the various needs of the apostolate. The spiritual and pastoral training of these men, however, especially if they are not yet ordained as priests, is in no way to be neglected. Not much to say of these logical statements. Anything from the commentariat?

Optatam Totius 16 starts off: The theological disciplines, in the light of faith and under the guidance of the magisterium of the Church, should be so taught that the students will correctly draw out Catholic doctrine from divine revelation, profoundly penetrate it, make it the food of their own spiritual lives, and be enabled to proclaim, explain, and protect it in their priestly ministry. Note the emphasis that theology is not solely an intellectual exercise; it is intended as food for the soul as well as of the mind. Speaking of soul ... The students are to be formed with particular care in the study of the Bible, which ought to be, as it were, the soul of all theology. After a suitable introduction they are to be initiated carefully into the method of exegesis; and they are to see the great themes of divine revelation and to receive from their daily reading of and meditating on the sacred books inspiration and nourishment. Exegetical methods carefully taught: good. Then a list: Scriptures, Fathers East and West, History, etc.: Dogmatic theology should be so arranged that these biblical themes are proposed first of all. Next there should be opened up to the students what the Fathers of the Eastern and Western Church have contributed to the faithful transmission and development of the individual truths of revelation. The further history of dogma should also be presented, account being taken of its relation to the general history of the Church. Next, in order that they may illumine the mysteries of salvation as completely as possible, the students should learn to penetrate them more deeply with the help of speculation, under the guidance of St. Thomas, and to perceive their interconnections. Then the connection with liturgy: They should be taught to recognize these same mysteries as present and working in liturgical actions and in the entire life of the Church. Then pastoral application: They should learn to seek the solutions to human problems under the light of revelation, to apply the eternal truths of revelation to the changeable conditions of human affairs and to communicate them in a way suited to men of our day. Misunderstood on both left and right is the notion of change. Change was undertaken at and after Vatican II to ensure the pastoral connection with people is, in fact, there. Old approaches and old ways were clearly not getting the point across. And despite some good things to bring to the Church, documents such as Humanae Vitae served to drive people away from the message rather than invite them into it. Likewise let the other theological disciplines be renewed through a more living contact with the mystery of Christ and the history of salvation. Special care must be given to the perfecting of moral theology. Its scientific exposition, nourished more on the teaching of the Bible, should shed light on the loftiness of the calling of the faithful in Christ and the obligation that is theirs of bearing fruit in charity for the life of the world. Moral theology based on Scripture, rather than "We said so." It can be done, but it seems that it is done so ineffectively. Similarly the teaching of canon law and of Church history should take into account the mystery of the Church, according to the dogmatic constitution "De Ecclesia" promulgated by this sacred synod. Sacred liturgy, which is to be considered as the primary and indispensable source of the truly Christian spirit, should be taught according to the mind of articles 15 and 16 of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. Lumen Gentium and Sacrosanctum Concilium are essential. The circumstances of various regions being duly considered, students are to be brought to a fuller understanding of the churches and ecclesial communities separated from the Apostolic Roman See, so that they may be able to contribute to the work of re- establishing unity among all Christians according to the prescriptions of this holy synod. Let them also be introduced to a knowledge of other religions which are more widespread in individual regions, so that they may acknowledge more correctly what truth and goodness these religions, in God's providence, possess, and so that they may learn to refute their errors and be able to communicate the full light of truth to those who do not have it. Another example of what I would call the "Spirit of Vatican II," a sense that students and priests have a contribution to make in the realm of Christian unity and interfaith understanding. Comments?

Well, maybe just a spot of them here. Amy and Rock have both reported that you can read the transcript of what you missed on EWTN at USCCB over on Adoremus. The St Blog's Commentariat always amuses me when the liturgical bee gets in its bonnet (or biretta). But for the sake of my own visitors, let me offer three gifts: 1. The current liturgy translation we use was approved up and down the line by everyone: a dozen-odd English-speaking bishop's conferences, ICEL, and the Vatican. If the Vatican noticed that some literal liberties were taken with the Latin original, it wasn't of apparent concern to them. For good or ill, this is what's stuck in 99.8% of the English language churchgoers in the Catholic world, including almost all of the clergy. Whiuch leads me to ... 2. In the shortest term, the clergy will be stuck with the dirty work of implementation, not the bishops. Parishes will fork over some bucks to get the new red books. Then every priest will have his nose in the new book for a few weeks to a few months until he gets used to the new language. People in the pews will take a bit longer, if they even bother to care. I can see a mongrel response of "and also with your you spirit." What happens if the people in some parishes continue to use the old responses out of habit or stubbornness? Who's going to stop them? Will the priest throw a hissy fit and refuse to continue the Mass if the response is "wrong?" And if he doesn't, and the 1970 responses remain, what has been accomplished? 3. Musical publishers are probably thinking this is a bonus for their ledger lines. Old Mass settings redone (church musicians won't have the option to protest) will be a financial boon lasting for months, if not years. And it looks as if the bishops are choosing to ignore the Liturgiam Inauthenticam provision for submitting hymn texts for approval. That May 2006 deadline is approaching fast, and it's crystal clear where the hierarchs stand on things: they might be split down the middle on the new English Ordo Missae, but they're 100% behind ignoring provisions that make work for their own. So in a spirit of holiday cheer, have at it, folks.

Optatam Totius 15: The philosophical disciplines are to be taught in such a way that the students are first of all led to acquire a solid and coherent knowledge of man, the world, and of God, relying on a philosophical patrimony which is perennially valid and taking into account the philosophical investigations of later ages. Okay. Like many other Vatican II teachings, the notion of continuity with the past, yet an openness to the present. This is especially true of those investigations which exercise a greater influence in their own nations. Account should also be taken of the more recent progress of the sciences. The net result should be that the students, correctly understanding the characteristics of the contemporary mind, will be duly prepared for dialogue with men of their time. Another neo-con cuss word: dialogue. What does it mean? The context in this document is that the priest needs to be prepared for flexibility in dealing with people. Rather than see non-Catholics as adversaries, dialogue implies a quiet confidence about the Gospel and the way of life it demands. The Christian message is (or could be) so strong, so self-evident, that dialogue is initiated by non-believers. When that happens, apply honey, not vinegar, I suppose. The history of philosophy should be so taught that the students, while reaching the ultimate principles of the various systems, will hold on to what is proven to be true therein and will be able to detect the roots of errors and to refute them. In the very manner of teaching there should be stirred up in the students a love of rigorously searching for the truth and of maintaining and demonstrating it, together with an honest recognition of the limits of human knowledge. Attention must be carefully drawn to the necessary connection between philosophy and the true problems of life, as well as the questions which preoccupy the minds of the students. Likewise students should be helped to perceive the links between the subject-matter of philosophy and the mysteries of salvation which are considered in theology under the higher light of faith. Only mentioning the integration of the affective and the intellectual in that phrase, "a love of rigorously searching for the truth." Do we see ourselves as messengers for the truth? Or does our own need for performance get in the way? Thoughts?

Optatam Totius 14 begins with a pragmatic thought: In revising ecclesiastical studies the aim should first of all be that the philosophical and theological disciplines be more suitably aligned and that they harmoniously work toward opening more and more the minds of the students to the mystery of Christ. What a concept: education is about opening the mindrather than filling it. For it is this mystery which affects the whole history of the human race, continually influences the Church, and is especially at work in the priestly ministry. That this vision be communicated to the students from the outset of their training, ecclesiastical studies are to be begun with an introductory course which should last for an appropriate length of time. In this initiation to ecclesiastical studies the mystery of salvation should be so proposed that the students perceive the meaning, order, and pastoral end of their studies. At the same time they should be helped to establish and penetrate their own entire lives with faith and be strengthened in embracing their vocation with a personal dedication and a joyful heart. Integration of the mind and soul, another fine concept.

Amy alerts us to a victory, not just for science, but for the Truth. Go tell it, your honor: Repeatedly ... scientific experts testified that the theory of evolution represents good science, is overwhelmingly accepted by the scientific community, and that it in no way conflicts with, nor does it deny, the existence of a divine creator. But, but, but ... Those who disagree with our holding will likely mark it as the product of an activist judge. If so, they will have erred as this is manifestly not an activist Court. Rather, this case came to us as the result of the activism of an ill-informed faction on a school board, aided by a national public interest law firm eager to find a constitutional test case on ID, who in combination drove the Board to adopt an imprudent and ultimately unconstitutional policy. A smackdown is delivered upon IDologists: The breathtaking inanity of the Board's decision is evident when considered against the factual backdrop which has not been fully revealed through this trial. The students, parents, and teachers of the Dover Area School District deserved better than to be dragged into this legal maelstrom, with its resulting utter waste of monetary and personal resources. Means and ends, people: (S)everal (members of the board), who so staunchly and proudly touted their religious convictions in public, would time and again lie to cover their tracks and disguise the real purpose behind the ID Policy. They can't make a dent in the scientific community, so they try an end run around in the political arena. This would be like a team losing about ten yards on a trick play, then being flagged for holding to boot.

Section 13 begins a fifth chapter of Optatam Totius calling for the revision of the priestly training syllabus. Before beginning specifically ecclesiastical subjects, seminarians should be equipped with that humanistic and scientific training which young men in their own countries are wont to have as a foundation for higher studies. Seems clear: business administration, psychology, sociology, political science, philosophy, plus a good smattering of the arts. Moreover they are to acquire a knowledge of Latin which will enable them to understand and make use of the sources of so many sciences and of the documents of the Church. Good suggestion, but one not taken too often. The study of the liturgical language proper to each rite should be considered necessary; a suitable knowledge of the languages of the Bible and of Tradition should be greatly encouraged. Personally, I regret not having more of a background in Greek and Hebrew. When I investigated liturgy studies in Rome, the expectation would be that I'd be prepared in no less than six or seven languages: Greek and Hebrew for Scripture, Latin for liturgy and documents, Italian for lectures, and at least one (preferably two) languages outside of my native English. I had the last five to a point, but my Italian was by far the weakest point--troubling considering that the expectation would be that I'd go to class and learn something from the speakers. The school suggested I arrive early in Italy and take a summer immersion course. Ah well; finances curtailed that option. I wonder how much language study is mandated for seminarians still in undergrad. Comments?

Optatam Totius 12 gives the "bishops" the choice of determining additional training beyond seminaries. Since they are identified in the plural, it may be that national conferences or regional or provincial groups would make these determinations. Here's the text: In order that the spiritual training rest upon a more solid basis and that the students embrace their vocation with a fully deliberate choice, it will be the prerogative of the bishops to establish a fitting period of time for a more intense introduction to the spiritual life. Note the first listed priority is the priestly spiritual life. It will also be their charge to determine the opportuneness of providing for a certain interruption in the studies or of establishing a suitable introduction to pastoral work, in order that they may more satisfactorily test the fitness of candidates for the priesthood. Note that this period would "interrupt" studies to give a candidate a taste of the life of a priest. Note that this is also seen partially as a testing period. A test is valid if people who are unsuited are given the option of withdrawing to pursue the lay apostolate or religious life. I'd question how appropriate it is for transitional deacons to be assigned to parishes to the exclusion of giving seminarians a year or two of pastoral experience. In my current parish, we've been assigned "summer seminarians." Most often they're enrolled in CPE, and rarely have been involved in parish ministry. I'd call the practice into question. It seems that after a year or two of major seminary, a candidate might be well-prepared for a full-time parish position for a year while taking a few credit hours of graduate-level theology. Maybe spread out a semester and a half to two semesters across two summers and the intervening year. In accordance with the conditions of individual regions it will also be the bishops' responsibility to make a decision about extending the age beyond that demanded at present by common law for the reception of sacred orders, and of deliberating whether it be opportune to rule that students, at the end of their course in theology, exercise the order of deacon for a fitting period of time before being promoted to the priesthood. Transitional deacons, yes. What period of time would seem to be fitting? If the ministry of deacon has any meaning, I'd say a year, minimum. What would the whole course of graduate study look like? Two years in seminary, followed by one year in a parish. Then one full year of seminary, followed by diaconate ordination. Conclude with one to two years of diaconate ministry, then ordination. Any better ideas out there?

Optatam Totius 11 suggests a balance between foundational education and "the newer findings of sound psychology and pedagogy." For the bad rap psychology gets as the episcopal and neo-con scapegoat of choice, there is much to be said for the increasingly mature priests emerging from seminary since the 70's and 80's. Therefore, by a wisely planned training there is also to be developed in the students a due human maturity. This will be made especially evident in stability of mind, in an ability to make weighty decisions, and in a sound evaluation of (people) and events. It remains hard for me to see how this could be cultivated within the sheltered life of a seminary. In my own college experience, I recall a friend considering an abortion, another friend having a breakdown mid-semester, other people I knew dealing with very traumatic issues of morality, stress, and personal discernment. Not that these don't happen in seminary to a degree, but I'd think the exposure to the concerns of peers does not quite give the experience needed. Or not ... just a thought. The students should be accustomed to work properly at their own development. They are to be formed in strength of character, and, in general, they are to learn to esteem those virtues which are held in high regard by (people) and which recommend a minister of Christ. And a listing follows: - sincerity of mind - a constant concern for justice - fidelity to one's promises - refinement in manners - modesty in speech coupled with charity. And ... The discipline of seminary life is to be reckoned not only as a strong safeguard of community life and of charity but also as a necessary part of the total whole training formation. For thereby self-mastery is acquired, solid personal maturity is promoted, and the other dispositions of mind are developed which very greatly aid the ordered and fruitful activity of the Church. Seminary discipline should be so maintained, however, that the students acquire an internal attitude whereby they accept the authority of superiors from personal conviction, that is to say, from a motive of conscience (cf. Rom. 13:5), and for supernatural reasons. The norms of discipline are to be applied according to the age of the students so that they themselves, as they gradually learn self-mastery, may become accustomed to use freedom wisely, to act spontaneously and energetically, and to work together harmoniously with their fellows and with the laity. Walking that difficult path: making the rote answers of childhood, and the authoritative statements of leaders one's own. The whole pattern of seminary life, permeated with a desire for piety and silence and a careful concern for mutual help, must be so arranged that it provides, in a certain sense, an initiation into the future life which the priest shall lead. And this last charge is the trick, isn't it? Do seminaries provide an initiation? Or is it a sojourn experience with one's peers that leads into a totally different way of life for the parish priest? The questions I'd ask is how bishops and clergy can cultivate more of this in the seminaries their trainees attend. Also, how can the laity be a part of this formation?

Optatam Totius 19 begins the sixth chapter which deals with "The Promotion Of Strictly Pastoral Training." That pastoral concern which ought to permeate thoroughly the entire training of the students also demands that they be diligently instructed in those matters which are particularly linked to the sacred ministry, - especially in catechesis and preaching, - in liturgical worship and the administration of the sacraments, - in works of charity, - in assisting the erring and the unbelieving, - and in the other pastoral functions. In large American parishes, these matters are handled by specialists, mostly lay people, mostly women. Note the absence of administration in this section and its near absence in any other place in Optatam Totius. Forgotten, an area of satisfaction, or something else? Spiritual direction is happily mentioned in some detail: They are to be carefully instructed in the art of directing souls, whereby they will be able to bring all the sons of the Church first of all to a fully conscious and apostolic Christian life and to the fulfillment of the duties of their state of life. Let them learn to help, with equal solicitude, religious men and women that they may persevere in the grace of their vocations and may make progress according to the spirit of their various Institutes. And more attention to dialogue: In general, those capabilities are to be developed in the students which especially contribute to dialogue with (people), such as the ability to listen to others and to open their hearts and minds in the spirit of charity to the various circumstances and needs of (people). Interesting that the practice of listening is associated with opening people's hearts and minds, not preaching or other vocal persuasion. How much confidence would it take to be a silent catalyst for conversion to Christ?

Overheard on This American Life yesterday: this segment entitled "Heretics." In sum: The story of Reverend Carlton Pearson (pictured), an evangelical pastor in Tulsa, Oklahoma. His church, Higher Dimensions, was once one of the biggest in the city, drawing crowds of 5,000 people every Sunday. But several years ago, scandal engulfed the Reverend, he was denounced by almost all his former supporters, and today his congregation is just a few hundred people. He didn't have an affair. He didn't embezzle lots of money. His sin was something that to a lot of people is far worse ... he stopped believing in hell. I caught the first fifteen minutes or so of this story, up to the point of his, um, conversion, if you will. From what I did hear, he questions the reality of hell as a punishment place created by God. Instead, people create their own hell. They wail and gnash teeth in the consequences of their own choices. Food for thought for the Sola Roma Catholica approach, too.

Zenit reports today on the Pope's reflections on Joseph, adoptive father of Jesus: "(Joseph) does not demonstrate an empty interior, but rather the fullness of faith that he carries in his heart." "Let's allow ourselves to be 'infected' by the silence of St. Joseph!" For me, one of the striking characteristics of St Joseph is his silent fiat; he has no recorded words in the infancy narratives. God speaks, he does, without comment, questions, or resistance. More quotes from Benedict: "A silence through which Joseph, together with Mary, guard the Word of God, known through sacred Scripture, comparing it continually to the events of the life of Jesus; a silence interwoven with constant prayer, a prayer of blessing of the Lord, of adoration of his holy will and of boundless confidence in his providence." "It is not exaggerated to say that Jesus will learn -- on a human level -- precisely from 'father' Joseph this intense interior life, which is the condition of authentic righteousness, the 'interior righteousness,' which one day he will teach to his disciples." May the infection of silence overtake us these days.

Please. Indy archbishop Daniel Buechlein "speaks up," but we in the sainted bloggerhead don't seem to think much of his comments. Amy takes him to task for not hammering harder on Dan Brown. (no surprise.) Rock is similarly unimpressed. I heard the Buechline speak at the opening of the Form Reform Conference about nine years ago and also thought he came away as terribly weak on content. The conference is made up of two-thirds architecture and design professionals and you harp on what one parish did wrong with its new church? As I said before ... Please. For off-the-cuff quotes for the diocesan organ, I can see how wishy-washy fits. But an interview with a local paper, with an audience of several thousand, many of whom are unchurched, one would think he's got something better to do than get trapped in someone else's questions. At least he could steer the answers into a direction that would let him set the tone a leader is supposed to set, and not be seen as a wimpy reactor to the news of the day. Or perhaps it was just his second bad day in nine years.

Optatam Totius 10 begins: Students who follow the venerable tradition of celibacy according to the holy and fixed laws of their own rite are to be educated to this state with great care. They said and taught it forty years ago. It's the way the West is: celibate clergy. We don't whine about 800 years of tradition. We don't make our own rules if we agitate for change. The Church admits this is a demanding discipline which must be imparted with great care. Great care entails more than "That's the way it is" or "Our way or the highway" or other such silliness. It should be high up on the discernment and discussion list not because society or the Church has a fetish about sexuality. Sexuality is God's gift to every human being. If sexual expression will be channeled into celibacy, then it must be taken seriously by everyone. For renouncing thereby the companionship of marriage for the sake of the kingdom of heaven (cf. Matt. 19:12), they embrace the Lord with an undivided love altogether befitting the new covenant, bear witness to the resurrection of the world to come (cf. Luke 20:36), and obtain a most suitable aid for the continual exercise of that perfect charity whereby they can become all things to all men in their priestly ministry. My take: If a celibate isn't giving offering "undivided love," and isn't rendering "perfect charity," then clearly, something is amiss with either the candidate's maturity or the calling to celibacy itself. If a celibate priest cannot exemplify a better ministry than he would in the lay apostolate with a wife and family, the whole point is lost and living sex-less (I wouldn't call it spiritual celibacy) becomes a distraction--for the priest and for others. Let them deeply realize how gratefully that state ought to be received, not, indeed, only as commanded by ecclesiastical law, but as a precious gift of God for which they should humbly pray. Through the inspiration and help of the grace of the Holy Spirit let them freely and generously hasten to respond to this gift. See it? Celibacy is God's gift. It requires grace to be lived fully and fruitfully. It is an act of freedom and generosity. If a person is being celibate with difficulty for the sake of becoming a priest, then I'd say a connection has been lost. Certainly, the freedom one should find in such a celibacy has been impaired. And such a lack of freedom, or suppression, if you will, is liable to appear in bursts of emotions, in addictions or compulsive behavior, or other pathologies of the psyche. Students ought rightly to acknowledge the duties and dignity of Christian matrimony, which is a sign of the love between Christ and the Church. Let them recognize, however, the surpassing excellence of virginity consecrated to Christ, so that with a maturely deliberate and generous choice they may consecrate themselves to the Lord by a complete gift of body and soul. I don't read this in a negative sense toward marriage at all. Marriage reflects divine love. Consecrated virginity surpasses ordinary chastity outside of marriage, or, let's say, an aimless life. Consecrated virginity entails the qualities of maturity and generosity. Lacking either, it fails the litmus test, and worse, remains potentially harmful for a less mature person. They are to be warned of the dangers that threaten their chastity especially in present-day society. Aided by suitable safeguards, both divine and human, let them learn to integrate their renunciation of marriage in such a way that they may suffer in their lives and work not only no harm from celibacy but rather acquire a deeper mastery of soul and body and a fuller maturity, and more perfectly receive the blessedness spoken of in the Gospel. A bit shortsighted, for it neglects the perils of chastity within the Church: by sexual predators amongst the clergy, by a forced eremitic life imposed on isolated priests, low morale in the priesthood, by peers less committed to celibacy or openly violating or urging others to violate promises made at ordination.

That's a quote. Can you dig it? Optatam Totius 9 speaks of seminarians possessing a "(saturation) with the mystery of the Church, especially as described by this sacred synod, that, bound to the Vicar of Christ in a humble and trusting charity and, once ordained priests, adhering to their own bishop as faithful helpers and engaging in a common effort with their fellow-priests, they bear witness to that unity that attracts men to Christ. Two things I see: First, that the council bishops fully intended that their council efforts would be a special part of the formation of clergy. So much so that every post-Vatican II priest would nearly ooze from his pores the teachings of the council, namely humility, charity, faithfulness, and collaboration. For what end? That people are attracted to Christ by that particular unity of purpose. They should learn to take part with a generous heart in the life of the whole Church in accord with what St. Augustine wrote: "to the extent that one loves the Church of Christ, to that extent does he possess the Holy Spirit." Does a person love the Church? Remember how this is defined in Lumen Gentium 9: the People of God. Love for the Church is not love for the externals, or accidents, if you will. I had an interesting episode at the parish recently when one chalice was left on the altar (one too few Eucharistic Ministers). A seminarian was in town to assist the priest at that Mass, but it was a parishioner who came forward to retrieve the chalice when she noticed a gap in the "formation" on her side. The young man in the sanctuary (who didn't step in, and fill the need, it must be noted) rushed in to say, "Don't touch the paten; nobody touches the paten!" He actually recognized the need (he was sensible enough to retrieve a purificator from the credence table) but seemed to have his priorities mixed up. People in love don't favor reverence for objects over pastoral need. The students should understand most clearly that they are not destined for domination or for honors but are given over totally to the service of God and to the pastoral ministry. Is this really in print? Say it again, Vatican II: The students should understand most clearly that they are not destined for domination or for honors but are given over totally to the service of God and to the pastoral ministry. Keep it going: With a particular concern should they be so formed in priestly obedience, in a simple way of life and in the spirit of self-denial that they are accustomed to giving up willingly even those things which are permitted but are not expedient, and to conform themselves to Christ crucified. In other words, living simply, and living apart from the secular examples of 19th century aristocracy (rectories chock full of servants: maids, cooks, etc.) or 21st century indulgence (pick your poison). The students are to be made clearly aware of the burdens they will be undertaking, and no problem of the priestly life is to be concealed from them. This is to be done, however, not that they should be almost solely concerned with the notion of danger in their future labors, but rather that they might be more readily conformed to a spiritual life that more than in any other way is actually strengthened by the very pastoral work they do. It seems to me one way is to ensure seminarians have similar tasks as lay graduate students: fixing their own meals, laundering their own clothes, managing their tight budgets, maintaining what they did in the lay apostolate before entering seminary. Comments are ultra light on this thread. Are you still with me?

Somebody thought it was a good idea. Forsaking candy and magazine sales, our parish school operates one fundraiser each year, a dinner-dance/auction combination that substantially pads the income side of the ledger. Last year, an enterprising committee auctioned off front pews for Christmas and Easter Masses of the winner's choice. So naturally I found out about it a few days before Christmas from the committee rep who insisted on two particular pews in church at the 3:30 Eve Mass, our very biggest. I still don't know why 800-plus Catholics converging on a single point in Kansas City's geography doesn't register 6.5 on somebody's scale and prompt a fire marshal to appear at 3:19PM to tell us, "Folks, please skim two-hundred off the top of this crowd, or I'll shut you down." It's not as though they can't enjoy a simultaneous Mass in the school auditorium that begins five minutes late, ends five minutes early, and is in general, less of a zoo than either school lunch hour or that first Christmas Eve Mass. "Less of a zoo" is my 3:30 musical assignment, so I politely told the committee rep I had not been informed about pew auctioning, and that for about four really good reasons, I could not guarantee the lucky bidders would get their seats unless they came about twenty minutes early. The fit hit the shan as it were, despite the fact that 3:30 church has a cobbled together usher group that prefers not to seat people and stick to their (more valuable?) reserved pew in the very back row, and that lectors and eucharistic ministers have long been used to having that particular row reserved on Christmas Eve. Stiff conversation ensued: "Who are the people who bought the pew?" I asked. "I can't tell you," she said. "Would you ask them if they could move to the front pew in one of the other sections?" "No, I can't do that. They want the far left." "Are you sure they couldn't come at 3:10 for their seat?" "No, that wouldn't be fair." "Would I be able to ask them personally and explain the situation?" "No; they want to remain anonymous." "You realize I can't guarantee those pews will be saved at that Mass; I'm not even in the building for it." ... Needless to say, this idea was surfaced again this year, but thankfully, the people requested 8PM Mass. (The Chiefs have a 12 noon start on Christmas Eve this year.) 8PM I can do. I don't have "less of a zoo," nor do I have any musical duties at all. I just welcome people to Mass and hover the fringes of liturgy in case something goes awry. Next year, I hope they decide to auction a parking space instead.

Several weeks ago, Nathan kindly invited me to be a regular contributor to Sollicitudo Rei Socialis. As my Grand Experiment (refraining from comment on other blogs) is going so well, I thought I could spend some productive time on the net honing my writing craft and making a constructive contribution to Catholic e-thought. I've learned or relearned some interesting things the past few weeks: - Even though I'm gone, my favorite foils still think I'm posting under other names, mistaking people who disagree with them. Apparently, the whole Catholic world has seen the light and "dissenters" are so few and far between we have to multiply personalities like Eve. No such luck. - I still get angry about little things. But inappropriate anger is really my own responsibility, not any other blogger's. - About three-fourths of the blogs I used to read and offer comment to don't seem to be essential to my daily life. I may even have forgotten about a few of them. Anyway, once I finish Optatam Totius, the decree on Priestly Training, I'll be turning my attention to Gaudium et Spes, Vatican II's Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World. You'll be seeing the posts both here and on SRS. There are over ninety sections in the document, and I expect I'll be working well into Lent (at least) before I finish it. Additionally, I asked Nathan and his co-editors, Susan Rose and Michelle to assign me topics to post there. CS is a rather random personal blog reflective of my jack-of-many-trades approach to life. If I'm going to appear elsewhere in print, it's really better to give me some structure. I understand my special pieces for SRS will appear on the second and last Fridays of each month and will be in keeping with their stated purpose: Sollicitudo Rei Socialis seeks to joyfully proclaim moderate, left of center, and nonpartisan social and political principles from the perspective of Catholic social thought, especially as defined by the pastoral constitution Gaudium et Spes and by the Holy Spirit speaking to us through tradition, scripture, and the sense of the faithful. So go visit the SRS blog and keep coming back here.

Optatam Totius begins a new chapter with section 8, entitled "The Careful Development Of The Spiritual Training." (It) should be closely connected with the doctrinal and pastoral, and, with the special help of the spiritual director, should be imparted in such a way that the students might learn to live in an intimate and unceasing union with the Father through His Son Jesus Christ in the Holy Spirit. I'd say this would be appropriate for any baptized person. Conformed to Christ the Priest through their sacred ordination they should be accustomed to adhere to Him as friends, in an intimate companionship, their whole life through. Jesus as friend: haven't some Catholics come under criticism for emphasizing this? They should so live His paschal mystery themselves that they can initiate into it the flock committed to them. The suffering, death, and resurrection; the celebration of the Easter Triduum: this is the core of the Christian spiritual experience. They should be taught to seek Christ in the faithful meditation on God's word, in the active participation in the sacred mysteries of the Church, especially in the Eucharist and in the divine office, in the bishop who sends them and in the people to whom they are sent, especially the poor, the children, the sick, the sinners and the unbelievers. The manifold presences of Christ in the Church and the world, isn't it? They should love and venerate with a filial trust the most blessed Virgin Mary, who was given as mother to the disciple by Christ Jesus as He was dying on the cross. Yes. Those practices of piety that are commended by the long usage of the Church should be zealously cultivated; but care should be taken lest the spiritual formation consist in them alone or lest it develop only a religious affectation. A priest's spirituality is not a surface thing, something set apart from other duties. Indeed, OT 8 suggests a priest's whole range of activities should be devoted to the spiritual life. And another list of ideals is given: The students should learn to live according to the Gospel ideal, to be strengthened in faith, hope and charity, so that, in the exercise of these practices - they may acquire the spirit of prayer - learn to defend and strengthen their vocation - obtain an increase of other virtues - and grow in the zeal to gain all (people) for Christ. Not a bad list at all; I think the Holy Spirit was certainly with the people who put together this section. Consider that a priest's life is to be ordered to a deeper spirituality. A priest should see the vocation to orders as something worthy of defense (and I doubt the council bishops meant this in terms of apologetics). More than that, a vocation is seen not as a static gift from Christ, either you have it or you don't. A vocation is something dynamic, an aspect of grace that requires human cooperation for its strengthening. OT 8 implies a seminarian already possesses appropriate virtues. These too must be strengthened and increased. Lastly, a priest is called to an evangelical mindset. This is a matter not merely of duty, but of personal zeal. As always, comments from clergy and seminarians are especially welcome.

A good bit of space news this week: NASA's probe to Pluto readies for departure Japan's Hayabusa probe misses return window, stranded at the Itokawa asteroid Ringlight on Saturn's night side Enceladus confirmed as source for Saturn's E ring Look up in the sky Sunday and Monday night; you'll see the moon close to the planet Saturn.

What is Salvation? The Catechism tells us, “The habitual difficulty in prayer is distraction. It can affect words and their meaning in vocal prayer; it can concern, more profoundly, him to whom we are praying, in vocal prayer (liturgical or personal), meditation, and contemplative prayer.” And Christmas can be a very distracting time. Besides the obvious concerns, I’m sure that you’ve already come across at least one newspaper article that reminded you that “the holidays bring stress and depression due to unrealistic expectations, loneliness, over-commercialization of the holidays, demands of shopping, parties, family reunions and unresolved guilt for failure to follow up with New Year's resolutions.” Attentiveness can seem impossible. Now, St Blog’s is a strange place (it’s not really even a place), which is one of the main reasons that I don’t talk about myself very much here (I can assure you that I’m not writing this in my mother’s basement, and I don’t use a pseudonym, although, if I did, I’d be hard-pressed to come up with something better than “Todd Flowerday”). And it can be a distracting place, which is why this will be my last substantive post of the year and I want to talk about salvation. How do we meditate on salvation? There’s an article in the most recent Theological Studies by Richard Clifford, SJ, and Khaled Anatolios that can help us out. They point to three models (complexes of experiences, concepts, images, and patterns) that can help us concretely refocus our attention on what matters: the prophetic model, the liturgical model, and the sapiential model, respectively. In the prophetic model, God, using human instruments, carries out a process within history to correct injustice. We can think about the 250 years that stretched from 750 to 500 BC. An unrepentant Israel was attacked by Assyria. Jerusalem was then destroyed by the Babylonians and its leading citizens were forced to live in exile. Restoration would only begin when Persia defeated Babylon and let the exiles return. This is the subject of the Book of Isaiah, which speaks of a divine plan to “purify Zion and the Davidic kingship so that the Lord can again dwell in Zion and bless the city,” as Clifford and Anatolios say. It is first written that “the Lord shall rise up as on Mount Perazim, bestir himself as in the Valley of Gibeon, to carry out his work, his singular work, to perform his deed, his strange deed. Now, be arrogant no more lest your bonds be tightened, for I have heard from the Lord, the God of hosts, the destruction decreed for the whole earth” (Is 28:21-22). But then the people, in “Second” Isaiah, subject to the depredations of the Assyrians and Babylonians and exiled, are told that they must return to the destroyed Zion to rebuild their city. And, in “Third” Isaiah, the people are told that they are to practice right worship and justice and await the visitation of God that would finally transform their city once and for all: “For it shall come like a pent-up river which the breath of the Lord drives on. He shall come to Zion a redeemer to those of Jacob who turn from sin, says the Lord” (Is 59:19-20). The Lord does not merely provide us with “theoretical pronouncements or impartial evaluations,” like a secular judge (“John Marshall has made his decision, now let him enforce it,” President Andrew Jackson once reportedly said). God actively intervenes within history to establish justice. In the Gospel of St Luke, Jesus is introduced as an eschatological prophet who will bring glad tidings to the poor, liberty to captives, sight to the blind, freedom to the oppressed, and the proclamation of the Jubilee (Lk 4:18, quoting Isaiah 61). His determination to go to Jerusalem is the promised visitation of the Lord that will renew Zion and transform the meaning of the Temple, completing the “singular work” of God. This prophetic model is further developed in the work of Irenaeus, who struggled against Gnostics who claimed that salvation was escape from this world. Irenaeus instead spoke of a God who “saves by taking over the human story and appropriating it to himself” in a dramatic reversal from within – a recapitulation (anakephaliosis). This comes to full realization in the Incarnation of the Second Adam, whose replacement of human rebellion with obedience, Irenaeus says, “united man with God and brought about a communion of God and man” in a “mingling” that comes about, once more, through a direct and immediate taking over of human history from within. The second model of salvation is liturgical. In Leviticus 16, we read about the ritual of the Day of Atonement. The sins of the people constituted a stain that overshadowed the most sacred place in the Tent, the Holy of Holies. The high priest would offer a bull and one of two goats as a sacrifice and enter the Holy of Holies to smear the animal blood onto the cover of the Ark. The high priest then returned to transfer the sanctuary pollution to the second of the two goats, who would be sent out into the desert to die. The Sanctuary would be purged of sin, so that God would not withdraw his presence. The Letter to the Hebrews follows this model, portraying a divine Christ who entered the Holy of Holies and “through the eternal spirit offered himself unblemished to God” (Heb 9:14) to take away sin once and for all as a human priest in the line of Melchizedek. Athanasius developed this liturgical model. For Athanasius sin is nothing more than an inevitable “de-creation” that brings about death and a constant physical and moral corruption towards nothingness. Christ, though, Athanasius says, following Hebrews 2:9, “tasted death for everyone,” and transformed the meaning of death as his body, a temple (naos) became a sacrifice (thusia) and an offering (prophora) to the Father. One cannot approach God empty-handed, burdened by what Athanasius called death - “the debt owed by humanity,” but we may approach the Lord through our kinship with the common humanity of Christ, who has, Athanasius says, “brought all to himself and through himself to the Father” by the “offering” of self that erases the stain of death. Along with meditating on the “recapitulation” of history in Christ, and Christ’s transformation of death into an “offering” to the Father, we can think about wisdom. In the ancient Near East, wisdom was practical, the learning of a craft. And since wisdom characterized the gods, becoming wise meant becoming divine. In the Books of Proverbs, Lady Wisdom says, “When there were no depths I was brought forth, when there were no fountains or springs of water; before the mountains were settled into place, before the hills, I was brought forth” (Prov 8:24-25). She is God’s craftsperson and “Happy the man watching daily at my gates, waiting at my doorposts; for he who finds me finds life, and wins favor from the Lord” (Prov 8:34-35). The Gospel of St John uses clear parallels between Christ and Wisdom, as Fr Clifford and Dr Anatolios summarize: As Wisdom was with God in the beginning (Prov 8:22-23, Sir 24:9; Wis 6:22), Jesus is with God ‘in the beginning’ (Jn 1:1) and with the Father before the world existed (Jn 17:5). Jesus searches for disciples (Jn 1:35-61; 21:15-23; Prov 8:1-36), hosts a banquet where life is offered (Jn 6:22-59; Prov 9:1-6, 11), and offers life to disciples (Jn 6:51, 57; 11:25-26; 13:19; Prov 1:33, 7:2; 8:4; 9:6). Jesus as revealer of the divine glory performs the roles of Wisdom: He speaks in long discourses, some of them beginning with ‘I am.’ Wisdom of Solomon has shaped the Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Just as Wisdom is a pure emanation of the glory of the Almighty (Wis 7:25), a reflection of the everlasting light of God (Wis 7:26), and a light for humans to see the right path (Sir 1:29), so Jesus as the manifestation of the Father’s glory reveals God to humans and brings them out of darkness (Jn 1:4; 8:50; 11:4; 17:5, 22, 24). The Church Fathers struggled against a Platonism that claimed that knowledge of the divine was attained through an abstraction from material and mundane reality. They insisted that salvific wisdom was personified and humanized in Jesus Christ. In his De Trinitate, Augustine wrote that faith was assent to the way the God reveals himself through symbols (similitudines) that are accommodated to our sense and material reality. “We were incapable of grasping eternal things, and weighed down by the accumulated dirt of our sins, which we had collected by our love of temporal things … so we needed purifying. But we could only be purified for adaptation to eternal things by temporal means like those we were already bound to in a servile adaptation … Now just as the rational mind is meant, once purified, to contemplate eternal things, so it is meant while still needing purification to give faith to temporal things.” Christ is the perfection of divine Wisdom manifested through temporal things, showing us the eternal truth that God loves us even in our sinfulness. For Augustine the death and Resurrection of Christ are “sacraments” and “models” for the mediation to our knowledge of interior spiritual realities, particularly the reality of our spiritual sickness and the overcoming of it through repentance and discipleship. Likewise, Augustine’s view of redemption is a highly dramatic affair in which Christ offers his life as a ransom for sinful humanity, and the devil is tricked into accepting the deal, unwittingly cancelling whatever authority he had over us. This is meant to concretely show us the meaning of divine humility and the reality of power: “The essential flaw of the devil’s perversion made him a lover of power and a deserter and assailant of justice, which means that human beings imitate him all the more thoroughly the more they neglect or even detest justice and studiously devote themselves to power. … So it pleased God to deliver humanity from the devil’s authority by beating him at the justice game, not the power game.” The point is not literal description (!), but the mediation of salvific Wisdom through concrete imagery. Well, that was quick. The point of this is not to pick just one model, but as our authors say, “to distinguish distinct emphases in order to unite them (distinguer pour unir)." The larger point is to help us meditate, so that we do not find ourselves distracted during this time of year. So, how will you imagine salvation this December? May Christ’s peace and love be with you this Christmas.

Optatam Totius 7: Where individual dioceses are unable to institute their own seminaries properly, seminaries for many dioceses or for an entire region or for a country are to be set up and developed, so that the sound training of the students, which must be considered the supreme law in this matter, can be taken care of in a more effective manner. These seminaries, if they are regional or national, are to be regulated according to directives set down by the bishops concerned and approved by the Apostolic See. Except on the snowy fields of Nebraska, isn't this happening everywhere? Maybe some priest-readers would chime in about their experiences: Are all of your priests trained at a single seminary? In seminary, did guys from the same diocese chum together or were they organized in such a way as to satisfy: In these seminaries, however, where there are many students, while retaining a unity of direction and of scientific training, the students should be conveniently divided into smaller groups so that a better provision is had for the personal formation of each.

I'm off caroling outisde with kids and playing sound tracks instead of my preferred grand piano, and naturally, Rock is all over the new archbishop of San Francisco. With my luck, some other bishop will be named while I make merry at the staff Holiday party tonight. (Sorry, folks, if it's not after sundown on the 24th, it just isn't Christmas.) "I'm going to proclaim the good news of the church for the right, left and center." Sez Niederauer in San Fran. Mahony likes him a lot; that can't help but cause dismay in St Blogdom. The common cry around here is for bishops with spine. When I read that phrase I often have an image in my mind of a sea urchin with one spine left standing. Somehow I think Niederauer and Sample are true vertebrates. Which are a great improvement over either echinoderms or flatworms. Evolutionarily speaking, that is.

These two ice balls keep that F-ring in good shape out at Saturn. Prometheus is on the left and orbits outside the ring. Pandora is on the right, and if you look carefully, you can see a ripple on the inside of the ring (about a moon-width to the right). More information here from JPL.

Just for comparison, Prometheus is a bit longer than the state of Delaware, Pandora just a bit shorter. Either would be larger that Hawaii's Big Island.

I've been reading some great non-fiction lately. Astronaut Gene Cernan's Last Man On the Moon offers great insight into the astronaut life during the moon shot era. I was struck by the sacrifices astronauts were expected to make in their personal lives and that impact on wives and children. I have to ask myself: as much as I would love to explore space, would I be willing to set aside family with the understanding I could come back and resume a husband's and father's life in the future? Cernan's book paints the astronaut corps of the 60's and 70's as intelligent, go-getting, and supremely competent men. But he also reveals the chinks the the armor.

David Harland's outstanding book Exploring the Moon awakened geological schooling long dormant in my brain. It gives a minute by minute breakdown of explorers' time on the moon. This book is absorbing to a science geek like myself. I especially like the background on the discussions about landing areas. The two books together give an interesting perspective of the effort to train astronauts to be geologists (and vice versa).

A frequent visitor brought my attention to a fellow blogger's essay and I couldn't resist having a go. Most of the commentary (in the Cincinnati Enquirer) has been negative, with one essay, written by a Catholic school teacher, mocking the instruction as an "absurd 'final solution.'" Having read the document as well as the pre-release build-up, it might well be that the hierarchy has opened itself up to being mocked. Not being a Cincinati resident, I didn't read the essay in question. But it is true that the Vatican leaked various "final solutions" before promulgating a document. The final result changes little on the seminary and clerical landscape. Bishops, seminary rectors, and diocesan vocations personnel now have an excuse if they want to stonewall a homosexual candidate. They also have the leeway to admit a homosexual who is not sexually active. At worst, it gives the people who make the call some leverage with homosexual candidates they don't like. A person could be led along, make commitments, then be bounced for no other reason than being disliked. Being a homosexual is a convenient excuse for the powers-that-be. This strikes me as patently unjust. The Vatican would have done better to address sexual activity as a concern for incoming seminarians and priests. Instead, it appears as if the CDWDS bent to the prevailing winds of scapegoating. If I understand the critics correctly, they take umbrage to the notion that the Vatican has equated pedophilia with homosexuality. But as both the exhaustive John Jay Report and the New York Times study have shown, the overwhelming majority of the cases involve victims who were teenage boys and young men; pedophilia involves prepubescent children. Rich plays patty-cake with statistics. Approximately twenty percent of reported under-age victims were female, and another twenty percent were pre-pubescent. Some were both, however. While an election with a three-to-one swing might be considered an overwhelming majority, ignoring thousands of abused boys, girls, and adolescent females (not to mention adult women sex partners) does not contribute to an overwhelming solution for sexual acting out, not in my book. The number of pre-pubescent victims alone is a scandal that cannot be blamed on homosexuals. The distinction is an important one. Unless we know who did what to whom, it will be impossible to prevent future scandals.

A sensible thought. We'd all like to know the sexual activity of priests with adults. The Jay study didn't touch womanizers or sexually active gay priests. As long as we content ourselves with the warm fuzzy that our kids are safe from gay priests, it will indeed be more difficult to prevent future abuse.

There is also the mistaken impression that the Vatican has instituted a vast departure from previous policies. Pope John XXIII - a favorite of progressives - strongly discouraged the ordination of homosexuals in 1961, and the Congregation for Divine Worship under Pope John Paul II reaffirmed that teaching in 2002 by stating, "[a] homosexual person, or one with a homosexual tendency, is not fit to receive the sacrament of Holy Orders." The new instruction incorporates this latter pronouncement.

I have no such misconception, nor do most thinking progressives. As these prudential opinions are not binding, Catholics are free to disagree. As for my own position, I've stated many times that going after homosexuals who shouldn't be priests is about as effective as targetting priests and priest-candidates whose names start with the letter S or J or something. Yes, you will eject people from the clergy who shouldn't be there. In that sense, you can clap yourself on the back and say, "Job well done." But your job wouldn't be over.

So why did the Vatican believe a restatement was needed? In part, it has to do with the scandals. But American Catholics constitute a mere 6 percent of the worldwide Catholic population. Although the world may dance to our tune on foreign policy, in ecclesial matters we carry far less clout.

Rich seems to labor under the misconception that sex abuse is solely an American problem. Maybe he needs to get around the world more. Sex abuse is, at its core, an addiction of power. Not every abuser has genital sex with a victim. Many cases have been uncovered that involved voyeurism, masturbation, masochism or other fetishes. So long as the priesthood is connected with power and privilege above service and humility, it will attract abusers.

For far too long, priestly formation has been influenced by the prevailing cultural zeitgeist, which these days is reflective of self-assertion and narcissism in all matters, sexuality included.

And from previous generations, we still have self-assertion and narcissism as expressed by big homes, servants, cars, travel, food, drink, and other indulgences. These were often willingly given to clergy by lay people in gratitude. But it is also true that many priests and bishops came to expect such perks, much as any other American aristocrat might.

In the wake of the church's latest instruction, many self-identified "gay priests" took to the airwaves to denounce it. Suffice it to say that a man who feels compelled to do such a thing on national television is putting the zeitgeist, not Christ, at the center of his identity. That is what the instruction sought to correct.

Not necessarily. Protesting does not always imply people have their priorities askew. Priests with undeniably fruitful and healthy ministries come forward and their witness cannot be denied. Clearly they give lie to the CDWDS/John XXIII notion that homosexuals are unfit for ordination.

It's fairly clear that the incidence of abuse by clergy has dropped as greater awareness has come to bear upon child abuse and the misconduct of sexual predators. We can probably say with conviction that seminary screening practices in place since Vatican II have improved the situation, rather than contributed to any decline.

If Rich is sure that the overwhelming blame can be placed at the feet of homosexual clergy, then we have to conclude that active gays in the priesthood predate Vatican II and the sexual revolution. And that might well be a tough pill for some conservative Catholics to swallow. The scapegoat game is so much easier and carries its own self-centered satisfaction.

Sexual predators are not shaking in their cassocks. Part of the profile of an abuser is to be an effective and plausible liar. How else could some of these perpetrators seduce so many children and teens? And often not just kids, but parents, teachers, and colleagues as well?

The Vatican instruction on gays in the seminary should not be taken for what it can't deliver: a renewal of virtue, service, and holiness in the priesthood. That problem remains on the table. Few people seem to want to have a go at it.

An Unfinished Letter from Taizé Brother Alois, the head of the community since the death of Brother Roger, writes, "The afternoon of the day he died, August 16th, Brother Roger called one of the brothers and said to him, 'Note down these words carefully!' There was a long silence while he attempted to formulate his thinking. Then he began, 'To the extent that our community creates possibilities in the human family to widen…' And he stopped there, too exhausted to finish his phrase." In the weeks before he died, Brother Roger had begun to work on a letter that would be made public during the Taizé meeting that commences later this month in Milan. Here is the end of that unfinished letter: To the extent that the Church is able to bring healing to our hearts by communicating forgiveness and compassion, it makes a fullness of communion with Christ more accessible. When the Church is intent on loving and understanding the mystery of every human being, when tirelessly it listens, comforts and heals, it becomes what it is at its most luminous: the crystal-clear reflection of a communion. Seeking reconciliation and peace involves a struggle within oneself. It does not mean taking the line of least resistance. Nothing lasting is created when things are too easy. The spirit of communion is not gullible. It causes the heart to become more encompassing; it is profound kindness; it does not listen to suspicions. To be bearers of communion, will each of us walk forward in our lives on the road of trust and of a constantly renewed kind-heartedness? On this road there will be failures at times. Then we need to remember that the source of peace and communion is in God. Instead of becoming discouraged, we shall call down his Holy Spirit upon our weaknesses. And, our whole life long, the Holy Spirit will enable us to set out again and again, going from one beginning to another towards a future of peace. To the extent that our community creates possibilities in the human family to widen …

Rock and Amy had the news of the US's latest bishop yesterday, but I'll chime in with two or three comments: Clearly, any time the bishop is chosen from among the clergy of a diocese, this is a laudable development. Hopefully, Pope Benedict will have more of these up his sleeve. More hopefully, he will be able to help stamp out careerism in the episcopate. Second, the new bishop earned an advanced degree in engineering. It can't hurt to have men of science among our bunch of bishops. Lastly, I've retreated to the Upper Peninsula many times (here) and find it to be a truly peaceful and beautiful place. It's been several years since my last visit, but it would be on the top three of my list of places to visit with my family.

John of the Cross (II) John of the Cross --Rebecca Seiferle He is not here in Fontiveros, Spanish Nebraska of his birth. The red brick granary fills with nothing but wheat, and the empty plaza has forgotten the name of Juan de Yepes, grandson of Jews, though it contains a statue of his alter ego, St John of the Cross. Even bound by the thinnest of golden threads, the soul's inexplicably bound. Leashed in the cell, the whips of the holy friars scourged him as he knelt, three times a week, at dinner hour, nothing to eat but cruelty. When he finally saw Christ, He was falling toward him, His arms stretched back, coming out of their sockets for love of him. It's clear why he left Fontiveros - his love for mountains conceived by this dreary view - but no one knows how he escaped from prison. Or why love finally drove him back. Sick, he asked to be treated in Ubeda, for he knew no one would cure him, the bishop would curse him; he could die inferior, die unknown, die suffering greatly. Only love can heal us, opening our hands to a darkness that we keep trying to let go ... How happy he was, always leaping free of the cell - Fontiveros, Salamanca, Ubeda, the world - singing softly, no longer having to tear out the feathers that kept sprouting from his limbs. The Southern Review 37 [2001] p.514

John of the Cross Today is the feast day of St John of the Cross. This is part of a homily for John of the Cross - entitled "How Is It God Loves Us?" - delivered by Fr John Sullivan, OCD, prior of the Discalced Carmelite monastery in Washington, DC, and past definitor general. It was originally published in Carmelite Studies VI [1992]: Someone might still object, all the same, that the warm manifestation of Christ's kindliness for the people he met, and the tenderness of his personal affection for them, was a one-time thing; now he is off, back in his eternal glory, while we are left in misery. Again, we feel the nagging doubt about that distance. We fear that the grandeur of God allows no room for the messiness of what we usually serve up in our shabby existence. But nothing could be further from the truth. The second reading from Scripture for the feast of St. John assures us that: "we are heirs as well co-heirs with Christ [and] we know that God cooperates with those who love him, by turning everything to their good" (Rom 8:17, 28). Paul weaves into the words of this passage the acknowledgment that "we suffer in this life," so he means to tell us not to lose hope in God regardless of the darkness. We are called to bear up under it all, and we can, because he who suffered, Jesus, has made us sharers in his destiny. Otherwise, why call us "co-heirs"? Or do we suppose Jesus could forget the very ones he made his sisters and brothers before the Father? John of the Cross never allows such doubts about our sublime calling. Quite the opposite. St. John assures us that even the heartbreak of human existence, which Jesus once knew first-hand, is still cherished by the Savior. At the very end of the poem where John describes the birth of Christ, that touching event we prepare to celebrate during this Advent season, he writes: Mother [Mary] gazed in sheer wonder On such an exchange: In God, man's weeping, And in man, gladness. To the one and the other Things usually so strange. What a consoling thought! Our weeping now lies in God, since Jesus bears it with him. He came to bring us gladness, but he did not disregard our sadness and is willing to include it in the reality he bears even now in heaven. God's love is not just for those who have "made the grade" and rest in the peace of his eternal embrace. The little friar from Castile who was willing to be known as John of the Cross and who shared in the demands of bearing the cross, willingly embraced the pain and suffering of this life because he knew that God's love never fails, that it is tenacious and really capable of "turning everything to our good."

The Priesthood and Weakness Well, I probably should have let Todd make the 1,000th post here. As he recuperates, I can redirect your attention to his commentary on Optatum Totius (Vatican II's Decree on Priestly Training) below. There has been a lot of discussion about the priesthood lately. I would like to share part of a letter that the theologian Fr Michael Buckley, SJ, wrote to his American Jesuit brothers who were then preparing for ordination. I should mention that I first saw the letter on Mark Mossa, SJ's excellent blog, You Duped Me Lord, and that Mossa's reflections on St Ignatius' Autobiography should be part of your regular reading. Here, then, is Fr Buckley: The tendency is ... to estimate a man by his gifts and talents, to line up his positive achievements and his capacity for more, to understand his promise for the future in terms of his accomplishments in the past, and to make the call within his life contingent on the attainments of personality or grace. Because a man is religiously serious, prayerful, socially adept, intellectually perceptive; possesses interior integrity, sound common sense, and habits of hard work--therefore he will make a fine priest. I think that transfer is disastrous. There is a different question, one proper to the priesthood as of its very essence, if not uniquely proper to it: Is this man weak enough to be a priest? Is this man deficient enough so that he cannot ward off significant suffering from his life, so that he lives with a certain amount of failure, so that he feels what it is to be an average man? Is there any history of confusion, of self-doubt, of interior anguish? Has he had to deal with fear, come to terms with frustrations, or accept deflated expectations? These are critical questions and they probe for weakness. Why? Because, according to Hebrews, it is in this deficiency, in this interior lack, in this weakness, that the efficacy of the ministry and priesthood of Christ lies. "For because he himself has suffered and been tempted, he is able to help those who are tempted ... For we have not a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sinning ... He can deal gently with the ignorant and wayward since he himself is beset with weakness." (Hebrews 2:18; 4:15; 5:2). How critically important it is for us to enter into the seriousness of this revelation, of this conjunction between priesthood and weakness, that we dwell upon deficiency as part of our vocation! Otherwise we can secularize our lives into an amalgam of desires and talents; and we can feel our weakness as a threat to our priesthood, as indicative that we should rethink what was previously resolved, as symptomatic that we were never genuinely called, that we do not have the resources to complete what we once thought was our destiny and which once spoke to our generosity and fidelity. What do I mean by weakness? Not the experience of sin; almost its opposite. Weakness is the experience of a peculiar liability to suffering a profound sense of inability both to do and to protect, an inability, even after great effort, to author, to perform as we should want, to effect what we had determined, to succeed with the completeness that we might have hoped. It is this openness to suffering which issues in the inability to secure our own future, to protect ourselves from any adversity, to live with easy clarity and assurance; or to ward off shame, pain, or even interior anguish. If a man is clever enough or devious enough or poised enough, he can limit his horizons and expectations and accomplish pretty much what he would want. He can secure his perimeters and live without a sense of ineffectual efforts, a feeling of failure or inadequacy or of shame before his temperament or his task--then he experiences weakness at the heart of his life. And this experience, rather than militating against his priesthood, is part of its essential structure. This liability to suffering forms a critically important indication of the call of God, that terrible sinking sense of incapacity before the mission of Moses and the vocation of Jeremiah, that profound conviction of sinfulness when the vision of God rose before Isaiah and demanded response.

Advent Calendar This Rowan Williams poem has just been reprinted in the Church Times (December 9). He will come like last leaf’s fall. One night when the November wind has flayed the trees to bone, and earth wakes choking on the mould, the soft shroud’s folding. He will come like frost. One morning when the shrinking earth opens on mist, to find itself arrested in the net of alien, sword-set beauty. He will come like dark. One evening when the bursting red December sun draws up the sheet and penny-masks its eye to yield the star-snowed fields of sky. He will come, will come, will come like crying in the night, like blood, like breaking, as the earth writhes to toss him free. He will come like child.

Evangelization and Being "Bloated With Words" A few days ago, Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, Archbishop of Westminster, gave a speech to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Pope Paul VI's apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi. Here's an excerpt: Of course, people do not become Christian because Christianity serves a particular end; they surrender to Truth. But long before that surrender they want to know what are the consequences of belief – what difference it makes. We need to grasp that behind this question is yet another – one that will be certainly unconscious to the questioner. And that is: who, or what, is God? Because when someone asks what difference faith makes, they want to know what difference God makes. They look at our lives in order to know what Jesus Christ looks like. It is not us they are interested in, but Christ. Witnessing to Christ means living in such a way that would make no sense if God did not exist. That is why Christians should be puzzling people; they look and speak like everybody else, but at the same time be very obviously different from everyone else. Evangelii Nuntiandi contains a striking passage which summarises the difference it should make to be a Christian. “Take a Christian or a handful of Christians,” Pope Paul VI writes, “who, in the midst of their own community, show their capacity for understanding and acceptance, their sharing of life and destiny with other people, their solidarity with the efforts of all for whatever is noble and good. Let us suppose that, in addition, they radiate in an altogether simple and unaffected way their faith in values that go beyond current values, and their hope in something that is not seen and that one would not dare to imagine. Through this wordless witness these Christians stir up irresistible questions in the hearts of those who see how they live: Why are they like this? Why do they live in this way? What or who is it that inspires them? Why are they in our midst? Such a witness is already a silent proclamation of the Good News and a very powerful and effective one” [EN, 21]. What inspires the observers is the vision of Christ they glimpse in Christians. John the Baptist, the greatest evangelist of them all, was not afraid to be different. His wild ways – his obvious “difference” – attracted attention; yet his simplicity and austerity deflected attention from himself onto Christ. John was an effective evangeliser because he led people to expect Christ, to wait for his coming, to look beyond the Baptist to the one who would come after him. That is how we evangelise: we withdraw to make way for Christ. There is always a danger, in evangelisation, of believing in the power of our own enthusiasm, to prefer hype to faith. When we do that we are putting ourselves forward, not Christ. We rely on our own strengths, not his. St Anthony of Padua, the thirteenth-century Franciscan, complained that the Church of his time was “bloated with words”. As one of those who contributes to that bloating, I include myself in this complaint.

The New Oxford Review is upset about an alteration in the lyrics of "Silent Night" for a public school program. Cold in the night, no one in sight, winter winds whirl and bite. How I wish I were happy and warm, safe with my family out of the storm ... I suppose there are all sorts of reasons why people don't like their songs messed with. I was thinking back to a version of "Shaving Cream" which is very irreverent: Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little Lord Jesus fell on his sweet head. The cattle were startled, the sheep pitched a fit, as little Lord Jesus lay deep in the ... Shaving cream, be nice and clean. Shave every day and you'll always look keen ... etc. Church songs get their words changed all the time. Much of it ("No Way, Hosea" or "Gift of Chocolate Cake" or "How Great Is Art (Carney)") is more or less in good fun. I can't seem to get myself worked up about the submerging of Christmas into a generic winter holiday season. I think there are some Christians who would be a bit upset at the prospect of their children singing Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, or other religious songs from outside our tradition. If people want Christmas songs, we have three weekends, plus the days in between. Don't see the need to insist that every little tyke in the winter program sing the Christian words.

Optatam Totius 6 handles a timely topic: With watchful concern for the age of each and for his stage of progress, an inquiry should be made into the candidate's proper intention and freedom of choice, into his spiritual, moral and intellectual qualifications, into his appropriate physical and psychic health-taking into consideration also possible hereditary deficiencies. The recent Vatican instruction only makes sense in light of this statement and applied evenly to any potential priest. Do SSA candidates have the right intention? Are they healthy in every way? Also to be considered is the ability of the candidate to bear the priestly burdens and exercise the pastoral offices. In the entire process of selecting and testing students, however, a due firmness is to be adopted, even if a deplorable lack of priests should exist, since God will not allow His Church to want for ministers if those who are worthy are promoted ... In other words, it's not a cause for desperation. ... and those not qualified are, at an early date, guided in a fatherly way to undertake other tasks. The latter should also be given sufficient direction so that, conscious of their vocation as Christians, they might eagerly embrace the lay apostolate. It would seem that an embrace of the lay apostolate (the baptismal apostolate, if you will) should be in evidence before a person enters seminary.

Another Poem for Advent Mosaic of the Nativity: Serbia, Winter 1993 -- Jane Kenyon On the domed ceiling God is thinking: I made them my joy, and everything else I created I made to bless them. But see what they do! I know their hearts and arguments: "We're descended from Cain. Evil is nothing new, so what does it matter now if we shell the infirmary, and the well where the fearful and rash alike must come for water?" God thinks Mary into being. Suspended at the apogee of the golden dome, she curls in a brown pod, and inside her the mind of Christ, cloaked in blood, lodges and begins to grow.

Optatam Totius 5 begins by stating that good people and good leadership are even more important than "wise laws": Since the training of students depends both on wise laws and, most of all, on qualified educators, the administrators and teachers of seminaries are to be selected from the best men, and are to be carefully prepared in sound doctrine, suitable pastoral experience and special spiritual and pedagogical training. Institutes, therefore, should be set up to attain this end. Or at least courses are to be arranged with a proper program, and the meetings of seminary directors are to take place at specified times. Forming those who form--a good start. Several years back, I knew a pastor who was assigned to teach at a seminary for a year. The guy had some problems, and it was seen as more of a cooling off period rather than an assignment with a particular intent to impart pastoral wisdom from soneone working in the trenches. I think there would be some wisdom in assigning the best of a diocese's pastors to teach at a seminary for a semester or two. Administrators, however, and teachers must be keenly aware of how much the success of the students' formation depends on their manner of thinking and acting. Teaching by personal example. I'd argue that assigning seminarians to parishes for at least two years might be a productive way of getting them formed in the full array of what lies ahead of them in parishes. Under the rector's leadership they are to form a very closely knit community both in spirit and in activity and they are to constitute among themselves and with the students that kind of family that will answer to the Lord's prayer "That they be one" (cf. John 17:11) and that will develop in the students a deep joy in their own vocation. It's hard to argue against this ideal, but for many priests, the closely knit community is never lived as profoundly or as keenly as during seminary. This is a good experience, to be sure, but does it reflect what lies ahead in the parish? The bishop, on the other hand, should, with a constant and loving solicitude, encourage those who labor in the seminary and prove himself a true father in Christ to the students themselves. Finally, all priests are to look on the seminary as the heart of the diocese and are to offer willingly their own helpful service. Comments?

Optatam Totius 4 begins "Chapter 3" of the document, which deals with setting up major seminaries. Major seminaries are necessary for priestly formation. Here the entire training of the students should be oriented to the formation of true shepherds of souls after the model of our Lord Jesus Christ, teacher, priest and shepherd. Naturally, a list follows, a rather important three-fold focus of Scripture, liturgy, and pastoral ministry: 1. (Students) are therefore to be prepared for the ministry of the word: that they might understand ever more perfectly the revealed word of God; that, meditating on it they might possess it more firmly, and that they might express it in words and in example; 2. ... for the ministry of worship and of sanctification: that through their prayers and their carrying out of the sacred liturgical celebrations they might perfect the work of salvation through the Eucharistic sacrifice and the sacraments; 3. ... for the ministry of the parish: that they might know how to make Christ present to men, Him who did not "come to be served but to serve and to give His life as a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45; cf. John 13:12-17), and that, having become the servants of all, they might win over all the more (cf. 1 Cor. 9:19). I like how carefully this is worded. It touches on the personal aspect for each priest in these three categories. That the Word informs one's good example, the connection of prayer and spirituality with worship, and the cultivation of a "servant" attitude. It links each of these in order with teaching, sanctifying, and serving. Especially notable is how Vatican II defines pastoral ministry; did you catch it? (H)ow to make Christ present to (people). Therefore, all the forms of training, spiritual, intellectual, disciplinary, are to be ordered with concerted effort towards this pastoral end, and to attain it all the administrators and teachers are to work zealously and harmoniously together, faithfully obedient to the authority of the bishop. And again, we see Vatican II's emphasis on teamwork: seminary administration and faculty with the bishop.

Mary Immaculate (from Sursum Corda) When I first started reading blogs, my very favorite weblog was Peter Nixon's Sursum Corda, which closed in May of 2004. Peter showed me that blogging could manifest patience, kindness, and generosity, instead of simply alternating between immediate celebration and denunciation. Peter's readers wisely convinced him not to delete his blog. This is what Peter wrote about the Immaculate Conception in 2002 (I've added the emphasis on one particularly insightful paragraph): MARY IMMACULATE: I’ve always sort of struggled with the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. Reading descriptions of its development is sort of like reading a very complicated legal brief. Lots of talk about the “imputed merits of Christ,” the theology of Duns Scotus, and all that. Most of the time, I enjoy that sort of thing. But not today. Today I’m thinking about mothers. One of the reasons that Mary is so important is that, in some sense, she is the guarantor of the humanity of Jesus. Jesus had a mother, just like all of us. Much of what Jesus became as a human being, he became because of his mother. If you met me and got to know me for a while, and then met my mother, you would immediately see some of the traits that she passed down to me. I suspect that those who got to know Jesus, and then met Mary, had the same experience. Maybe it was her smile, maybe certain turns of phrase. Maybe Jesus inherited his fiery passion, his fearlessness from her. She must have been a formidable woman! One of the ongoing temptations in Christianity has been to deny, sometimes without even meaning to, the humanity of Christ. A lot of us are still carrying around a mental image of a fleshy “costume” animated by an all-knowing, all-seeing deity. The idea that Jesus could have been shaped in some fundamental way by his human environment sometimes seems threatening. But that is precisely why the Incarnation is so stunning. It doesn’t seem completely unreasonable to me that if God was going to become incarnate in human flesh, that he would do a little advance planning. And perhaps one of the things He might be most concerned about is the woman who would bear Him, who would shape Him and guide him to adulthood, a poor peasant girl from the Judean countryside. How would she ever have the strength to bear the burden that would be laid upon her? The answer? He gave it to her. Oh, I’m sure this is very poor theology and someone far more learned than I could poke numerous holes in it. But in some sense, I think this is what the dogma of the Immaculate Conception is all about: a son’s love for His mother.

A disclaimer from the start: even on issues where it counts, I don't have much use for a top-anything list. At best, it's like a poor attempt at impressionism: from a distance, you can get a vague overall picture, but when looking closely, it's a mess. Fr Jeff posted the link to NPM's survey results. While I agree with his sentiments about poorly composed songs, he's added to vocabulary erosion by equating the word "heresy" with "something I don't like." One of these days, we might actually need that word, and who's going to listen when it's variously applied to sentimentality or whatever our personal bugaboo is. Sorry, I don't buy the negative proof-texting on "Let There Be Peace On Earth." Sure it's sentimental and somewhat simplistic, but because it presumes a conversion experience rather than describes it, I don't have a doctrinal problem with a song that suggests "peace begin(s) with me." By that definition, some seven-year-olds can come up with big whoppers of "heresy," but we don't call them names about it. Adults nod, appreciate the sentiment, and chalk it up as something juvenile--to be corrected with the passing of time and the gaining of maturity. It is interesting to note the text source of the top 25:

1. On Eagle's Wings (242) (Psalm 91)
2. Here I Am, Lord (152) (Isaiah 6)
3. Be Not Afraid (146) (Isaiah 43)
4. You Are Mine (138) (Isaiah 43, the same)
5. How Great Thou Art (76) (composed hymn)
6. Holy God, We Praise Thy Name (70) (the Te Deum, ancient hymn)
7. Amazing Grace (69) (composed hymn)
8. All Are Welcome (58) (composed hymn)
9. Prayer of St. Francis (43) (composed hymn)
10. Ave Maria (42) (Luke 1, plus an a prayer invocation)
11. We Are Called (38) (Micah 6)
12. Let There Be Peace on Earth (36) (composed hymn)
13. I Am the Bread of Life (30) (John 6)
14. The Summons (30) (composed hymn)
15. Panis Angelicus (29) (composed hymn)
16. The Servant Song—Gillard (29) (composed hymn)
17. Pescador de Hombres (28) (composed hymn)
18. Servant Song—McCargill (28) (composed hymn)
19. Shepherd Me, O God (27) (Psalm 23)
20. Ave Verum Corpus (26) (composed hymn)
21. Lord of the Dance (24) (composed hymn)
22. One Bread, One Body (24) (Galatians, and something else ...)
23. Tantum Ergo (24) (composed hymn)
24. Hosea (23) (composed hymn sort of but suggested by Hosea, the book)
25. Pange Lingua (23) (composed hymn)

My comments: Only two psalm settings and not quite 40% of this list is based directly on Scripture. Of course, most of these songs have an allusion to Scripture somewhere in them. Of the seven songs written since 1980, four are based on Scripture. That's a promising development, I'd say. It's interesting that no preconciliar texts based on Scripture made it to the list except the Ave Maria. These songs are all done frequently; I wonder if meaningfulness is related to something well-practiced. And lastly, I'm glad to see the attempts in the Blogosphere to jam the ballot box doesn't seem to have altered the landscape on the top end too much.

Magister reports on Chiesa an address given by Valentino Miserachs Grau, president of the Pontifical Institute of Sacred Music. One highlight: (T)he almost outright ban on Latin and Gregorian chant seen over the past forty years is incomprehensible, especially in the Latin countries. It is incomprehensible, and deplorable. From the perspective of art or tradition, perhaps. But liturgical music and the people who sing it or lead it are more than artists. We are also political people, surely as we are artistic. Those who resisted the Council identified themselves under the banner of Latin and chant, and those two aspects still retain a degree of taint (perhaps undeserved) not only from the wild progressives, but from mainstream Catholics. These Catholics never had a good hearing of chant, as it was likely presented in a much worse light than the abilities of middling church guitarists. Mediocre music can come alive with the verve of good musicians, a spirit of hopeful and optimistic worship, and the willingness of pew people who are able, at last, to express the faith which has come alive for them. I still hear fairly good musicians take VENI VENI IMMANUEL at a horribly languid pace. I have no doubt Grau and his confreres could make chant come alive in most parishes. But most parishes don't have musicians of that caliber. Most parishes don't have pipe organs. Most don't have professional musicians leading music ministry. And many professionals have a very limited view of chant. To top it off, harmony sounds better and is easier to achieve well than unison singing. Then consider that many church musicians don't give a hoot what comes out of the pews. Grau and others like him labor under the misconception that every church's choir loft contains a treasure chest waiting to be opened. A director only need wave her or his arms and beautiful chant will spring into life fully formed like Aphrodite from the head of Zeus. Grau forgets SC 11 in calling for a legislative crackdown: " ... when the liturgy is celebrated, something more is required than the mere observation of the laws governing valid and licit celebration ..." He's not going to get better liturgy by hierarchical fiat. Like political pro-lifers, he fails to grasp that a long and arduous road lies ahead. He misperceives people are ready to follow a pope, bishop, or music director in liturgical lockstep. He forgets that pastors have other priorities, in America, most notably schools. He forgets that the best musicians pass up church jobs in order to build careers and support families. He forgets that many church musicians are woefully undertrained and undersupported. Many of them would quit in the face of marching orders to chant. As a fellow professional, I feel for him. I really do. But this conversation is thirty to two- hundred years behind the times. The reality is that great liturgy depends on two things: the worship of God and the sanctification of the faithful. We can do both without chant. Brutal, but true. Chant might be the easiest road for all I know. But just getting to that road involves a difficult route--and most parishes aren't anywhere near what's on Grau's map. In my experience, chant hymns are not well-received. For my efforts, I'm probably seen as a conservative force in my parish, vaguely tolerant of alternate musical styles our parish musicians prefer, but quirky in a classical sort of way. My crunchy con detractors in the Blogetariat might be shocked to consider I might well be their last best hope, at least in one fairly conservative parish in middle America. And if I'm the best available, Rich and a long line of others might well consider lining up to big-O Orthodoxy for all the action their future might hold.

Up north, weather like this would be moderately serious. There wouldn't be a thought to closing schools early and the army of plows would start hitting the road as I blog.

Here in KC, people are going a little crazy. Like most northern transplants, we're not afraid of the weather as much as the silly decisions some drivers make.

I do remember the time when they salted our street in Rochester, then plowed it a little bit later. My dad had a good laugh over that one.

Doesn't look like we'll get a snow day tomorrow, though. Too bad. I only had to come in for the school Mass at 9:30 and the evening Mass later on. It would be nice to retrieve the sleds from the soccer end line* and hit the slopes with Brittany. As it is, Friday at 3pm looks tasty. (I never seemed to enjoy sledding so much as when our daughter arrived. Now there's two of us that don't want to come in from the cold.)

*Just two weeks ago it was Team Teaser (Dad) versus Team Panther (Brittany) in the Backyard Soccer Bowl. Now it's time for the Flowerday Sled Slalom.

A moon, actually. That's Pandora, gently shepherding the thin F-ring of Saturn, not actually connected to it. But if earthbound telescopes had been able to capture this sight a few centuries ago, what would we have thought about these moons and rings?

Advent 1955 John Betjeman The Advent wind begins to stir With sea-like sounds in our Scotch fir, It's dark at breakfast, dark at tea, And in between we only see Clouds hurrying across the sky And rain-wet roads the wind blows dry And branches bending to the gale Against great skies all silver pale The world seems travelling into space, And travelling at a faster pace Than in the leisured summer weather When we and it sit out together, For now we feel the world spin round On some momentous journey bound - Journey to what? to whom? to where? The Advent bells call out 'Prepare, Your world is journeying to the birth Of God made Man for us on earth.' And how, in fact, do we prepare The great day that waits us there - For the twenty-fifth day of December, The birth of Christ? For some it means An interchange of hunting scenes On coloured cards, And I remember Last year I sent out twenty yards, Laid end to end, of Christmas cards To people that I scarcely know - They'd sent a card to me, and so I had to send one back. Oh dear! Is this a form of Christmas cheer? Or is it, which is less surprising, My pride gone in for advertising? The only cards that really count Are that extremely small amount From real friends who keep in touch And are not rich but love us much Some ways indeed are very odd By which we hail the birth of God. We raise the price of things in shops, We give plain boxes fancy tops And lines which traders cannot sell Thus parcell'd go extremely well We dole out bribes we call a present To those to whom we must be pleasant For business reasons. Our defence is These bribes are charged against expenses And bring relief in Income Tax Enough of these unworthy cracks! 'The time draws near the birth of Christ'. A present that cannot be priced Given two thousand years ago Yet if God had not given so He still would be a distant stranger And not the Baby in the manger. (hat tip: Maggie Dawn)

I can't say I think Optatam Totius 3 presents an entirely positive idea. Nearly all minor seminaries in the US have closed, and it's probably a good thing, in my opinion. I'd have serious questions about the actual freedom involved for a person who has been in seminary since early adolescence. I'd have the same questions about a person living in a multi-year betrothed state with a future spouse. So does the Church, in that regard. That said, here's what OT 3 does say: In minor seminaries erected to develop the seeds of vocations, the students should be prepared by special religious formation, particularly through appropriate spiritual direction, to follow Christ the Redeemer with generosity of spirit and purity of heart. Don't know why this couldn't apply to all Catholic high school students ... Under the fatherly direction of the superiors, and with the proper cooperation of the parents, their daily routine should be in accord with the age, the character and the stage of development of adolescence and fully adapted to the norms of a healthy psychology. A healthy psychology can be thwarted by isolation from female peers, work and secular responsibility, and a system too controlling of many of the small details of life. A person cannot give up what he (or she) has never known in the first place. Nor should the fitting opportunity be lacking for social and cultural contacts and for contact with one's own family. In its day, I imagine this was a revolutionary thought. Moreover, whatever is decreed in the following paragraphs about major seminaries is also to be adapted to the minor seminary to the extent that it is in accord with its purpose and structure. Also, studies undertaken by the students should be so arranged that they can easily continue them elsewhere should they choose a different state of life. With equal concern the seeds of vocations among adolescents and young men are also to be fostered in those special institutes which, in accord with the local circumstances, serve the purpose of a minor seminary as well as among those who are trained in other schools or by other educational means. Finally, those institutions and other schools initiated for those with a belated vocation are to be carefully developed. There's no doubt that many thousands of priests benefitted from minor seminary. Just like many married couples were solid after an adolescent courtship and early marriage. But there's no question this section of OT operates from questionable and potentially damaging presumptions, that last sentence for one. The notion that a vocation can be "belated" might be as damaging as any single obstacle the Church throws up to potential clergy. We don't speak of people waiting till 40, 30, or even 25 as having a "belated" marriage. Indeed, the conventional wisdom is that for many individuals, waiting to get married has long been seen as a positive development, a mature approach. That's not to say that values appropriate for clergy cannot be cultivated before a person is ordained. Indeed, many of the suggestions in this section: appropriate spiritual direction, cultivating generosity and purity of heart--these can and should be applied to all adolescents. The virtues are appropriate to any and all Catholics. The call is a special grace. Would that we had an attitude that the fostering of virtues made way for the actual call, when it can be fully realized. That's probably enough for now; any thoughts from the commentariat?

Not really, but this close-up view of Rhea makes me think of it. Lots of new pics on the Cassini web site, especially on the press image page.

Zenit's weekly liturgy Q&A often has some interesting little gems, like this week's: Q: The opening prayer for Monday in the Second week of Advent asks: "prepare us to celebrate the incarnation of your son." The Incarnation is celebrated March 25, not Dec. 25. There are many other mistakes of this kind during Advent. Should they not be corrected by Rome? A person I know uses this as a pro-abortion argument saying, "Even the Church recognizes that Christ became a man only at Christmas; before that it was not a man, not a human being in Mary's womb." Father Edward McNamara's begins by asking if we consider the Church is not in error, but our own interpretation or expectation of liturgy? Then we get a good history lesson: From a historical point of view the prayers used during Advent are taken from the ancient manuscripts known as the Scroll of Ravenna (fifth-sixth centuries) and the Gelasian sacramentary (seventh century). Their constant theme is the coming of Christ, both in the incarnation (first coming) and at the end of time (second coming). In fact, both Christmas and the Annunciation celebrate different aspects of the mystery of the Incarnation and do so with relatively little attention to biological or chronological precision. McNamara explains the dating of Western Christmas to 4th century Rome, and the celebration of the Annunciation to Egypt about 300 years later. From the beginning it was celebrated on March 25 due to the belief that the spring equinox was both the day of the creation and of the start of the new creation in Christ. This date caused a difficulty for some Churches, such as the Spanish Mozarabic rite and the Ambrosian rite of Milan, due to their strict prohibition of all festivities during Lent. They thus opted for celebrating the Annunciation on Dec. 18, a practice that continues to this day. I didn't know that about the Mozarabic and Ambrosian Rites. McNamara concludes with a sensible thought: Thus, it is clear that neither the liturgical calendar, nor any particular liturgical prayer, should be used for arguing questions such as abortion or the precise moment of life's beginning. The liturgy's intention is not to address such issues but to magnify and praise God for the wonderful mystery that the Word was made Flesh and "became incarnate from the Virgin Mary, and was made man" for our salvation. But no doubt, someone, somewhere, will see it all as evidence that the Church is, in actuality, soft on abortion. This is part of the problem with an excessive indulgence for literalism. EWTN, CDWDS, and other activists might realize that literal accuracy is not always the core issue with liturgy. The purpose of liturgy is to praise God, not trip up over the notion that our words are somehow not accurate enough--as if God didn't know our hearts, or we could ever find words adequate to the task.

A Prayer for this Evening An evening prayer for blessing during Advent, from Celtic Daily Prayer, The Northumbria Community, Collins, 2000 (hat tip: the Hopeful Imagination blog): God of the watching ones, give us Your benediction. God of the waiting ones, give us Your good word for our souls. God of the watching ones, the waiting ones, the slow and suffering ones, give us Your benediction, Your good word for our souls, that we might rest. God of the watching ones, the waiting ones, the slow and suffering ones, and of the angels in heaven, and of the child in the womb, give us Your benediction, Your good word for our souls, that we might rest and rise in the kindness of Your company.

Bishops on the other hand are to encourage their flock to promote vocations and should be concerned with coordinating all forces in a united effort to this end. As fathers, moreover, they must assist without stint those whom they have judged to be called to the Lord's work.

This next portion explains why a church-wide effort is needful:

The effective union of the whole people of God in fostering vocations is the proper response to the action of Divine Providence which confers the fitting gifts on those men divinely chosen to participate in the hierarchical priesthood of Christ and helps them by His grace. Moreover, this same Providence charges the legitimate ministers of the Church to call forward and to consecrate with the sign of the Holy Spirit to the worship of God and to the service of the Church those candidates whose fitness has been acknowledged and who have sought so great an office with the right intention and with full freedom.

Priest-only efforts are doomed to miss certain candidates and misinform others. If the laity are not involved, it is easy for the young to be misinformed about the priesthood as an elite brotherhood divorced from the ordinary concerns of lay people. What is needed is a collaborative and common effort: catechesis of the laity, planning from the bishop on out, the use of the social sciences, as OT 2 suggests:

The sacred synod commends first of all the traditional means of common effort, such as urgent prayer, Christian penance and a constantly more intensive training of the faithful by preaching, by catechetical instructions or by the many media of social communication that will show forth the need, the nature and the importance of the priestly vocation. The synod moreover orders that the entire pastoral activity of fostering vocations be methodically and coherently planned and, with equal prudence and zeal, fostered by those organizations for promoting vocations which, in accord with the appropriate pontifical documents, have already been or will be set up in the territory of individual dioceses, regions or countries. Also, no opportune aids are to be overlooked which modern Psychological and sociological research has brought to light.

While the family, the parish, the clergy, and the bishop have particular duties, the effort to nurture vocations goes beyond these:

The work of fostering vocations should, in a spirit of openness, transcend the limits of individual dioceses, countries, religious families and rites. Looking to the needs of the universal Church, it should provide aid particularly for those regions in which workers for the Lord's vineyard are being requested more urgently.

Comments, especially from any priests in the readership?

# posted by Todd @ 12/06/2005 07:06:00 PM

Bishop Finn on liturgy and music. It's always interesting to talk with one's bishop on one's favorite topic. The gold leaf did not peel off the cathedral dome when the bishop joined me (and a dozen diocesan music committee members) for a meeting yesterday. Neither did the earth shake or birds suddenly fall dead in flight. The bishop spoke of a diocesan concern, then asked us if we had any questions. We had a nice hour-long chat, mainly about the USCCB struggles to approve the Roman Missal translation. We were all in agreement that the Lectionary was a weaker product than its predecessor (a position I was surprised to hear him take). He also wondered about his brohter bishops delaying on approving the Roman Missal. It was fully in compliance with Liturgiam (In)authenticam, he said. (He didn't say "in," of course.) I asked him Liam's favorite question about the USCCB approving hymn texts for the US by May 2006. (That's not going to happen.) In our discussion I floated another of Liam's favorite (and now mine) suggestions to have the USCCB commission Mass settings of the new Ordo Missae when it does come out. Bishop Finn also talked about measuring a music director's efforts by the sense of participation and engagement of the assembly. This was not wholly unexpected, but welcome to hear. I have met my new bishop a few times and each time I come away with a better feeling about him as my bishop. I may need to concede Rock was right all along. Bishop Finn comes off as faithful, sensitive, pastoral, and genuine. He seems very shy and reserved, but does a creditable job in engaging people in discussion. I got a sense he does listen, even if direct eye contact seems difficult at times.

Why You Should Go to Church on Christmas I suppose that a few of you have already read the story in the Lexington Herald-Leader that reported, “Southland Christian Church near Lexington, where more than 7,000 people worship each week, is one of several evangelical megachurches across the country that are opting to cancel services on one of the holiest days on the Christian calendar” so that staff members and volunteers can spend more time with their families (there is a long comments thread at Open Book here). I tend to share the concern of the Fuller Seminary professor, Robert K. Johnston, who is quoted in the article as saying, "What's going on here is a redefinition of Christmas as a time of family celebration rather than as a time of the community faithful celebrating the birth of the savior." The Asbury Theological Seminary professor Ben Witherington has also blogged critically about the decision to close, writing “The church does not exist to serve the physical family but rather to redeem it and make clear that if it is a Christian family it has a larger and more primary obligation to the family of faith and to its Lord. Christmas is one of two days in the year when we should especially make that clear to our culture and our country.” Of course, while Catholics are obliged to attend Mass on Christmas, closing on December 25 isn’t exactly a historical novelty. This Sunday, commenting in the New York Times on the so-called “Christmas wars,” Adam Cohen pointed out, “As late as 1855, New York newspapers reported that Presbyterian, Baptist and Methodist churches were closed on Dec. 25 because ‘they do not accept the day as a Holy One.’" But this closing does pose a question for us, I think. Why is Christmas so theologically important that we should gather as a Christian community, despite the probable inconvenience? I will assume that we all believe that Jesus Christ is the eternal Son of God made flesh, but why should we leave family and friends and drive through the wind and snow to contemplate his birth? I’ll try to offer an answer, based on a recent essay by Fr Brian Daley, SJ. Fr Daley writes, “It is in the incarnation of the Word, seen as an event which includes the whole life of Jesus, rather than simply in his crucifixion or his resurrection, that the ‘event’ of redemption is to be found; the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ are of course seen as inseparable stages in his incarnate history, revealing in fullness what the incarnation means, but they are not considered saving events in isolation from his whole life as Word made flesh.” That is, we are to be really included in the whole story of Jesus. If Jesus saved us only through a particular action, he would be nothing more than a mere agent and salvation would be a “work,” inevitably abstract and impersonal. But if salvation is instead a process of transformation, Christ would have to be both human and divine, so that, through the Spirit, he might bring our humanity to real participation in God’s life as “sharers in the divine nature” (2 Pet 1:4). Because salvation is indeed transformation – “incorruptibility, glory, honor, and power, which are agreed to be characteristic of the divine nature” are to be ours, says St Gregory of Nyssa – we do have to meditate on who Christ is, not simply what he does. More concretely, salvation is first a matter of identification with Christ – by participating in Christ, we become sons and daughters of the Father. This is usually imagined as an exchange – Christ became human and took our infirmities upon himself, that we might take on his immortality and righteousness. The fourth-century Syrian bishop Nemesius of Emesa writes, “Man is the creature for whose sake God became human, so that this creature might attain incorruption and escape corruption, might reign on high, being made after the image and likeness of God, dwelling with Christ as a child of God, and might be enthroned above all rule and all authority. Who, then, can fully express the pre-eminence of so singular a creature?” Salvation, by “dwelling with Christ as a child of God,” realizes in the transformation of our humanity through forgiveness of sin and growth in holiness, culminating in the resurrection of the body on the last day. Pseudo-Macarius writes, “Just as the interior glory of Christ covered his body [on the Mount of Transfiguration] and shone completely, in the same way also in the saints the interior power of Christ in them, in that day [i.e. at the resurrection], will be poured out exteriorly upon their bodies. For even now, at this time, they are in their minds participators of his substance and nature.” Finally, salvation also realizes in a restored and revitalized human community that especially draws life through its sharing in Christ’s Eucharistic body. St Cyril of Alexandria, in his Commentary on John, writes, “So the Mystery of Christ has come into being as a kind of beginning, a way for us to share in the Holy Spirit and in unity with God: all of us are made holy in that Mystery, as we have already shown. That we might, then, come together into unity with God and each other, and might ourselves be mingled as one, even though we stand apart individually in our souls and bodies by the differences we recognize in each of us, the Only-begotten contrived a way, devised by the wisdom that is his own and by the will of the Father: blessing those who believe in him by a single body – namely his own – through sacramental sharing, he made them into members of a single body with himself and with each other.” But we cannot identify with Christ, participate in Christ, dwell with Christ, or become members of a single body with Christ and with each other – we can also think of “engrafting” (Rom 11:17, 24) or “putting on Christ” (Gal 3:27) - unless Christ, the Word that was “in the beginning with God” without whom nothing came to be, is also one of us, unless he has “become flesh and dwelt among us” (Jn 1:2, 14). And at Christmas, we directly contemplate that this has happened (after all, the infant Jesus doesn't yet do anything). I very much like the Anglican bishop Geoffrey Rowell’s Christmas Message from last year. He writes, “The creative Word of God enters into the heart of creation, taking our human nature, that being one with us he may know from the inside our human condition,” and quotes the seventeenth-century Anglican divine Mark Frank’s profound phrase, “by this day’s emptiness we all were filled.” And then Bishop Rowell quotes the poet, Richard Crashaw: Welcome, all wonders in one sight, Eternity shut in a span, Summer in winter, day in night, Heaven on earth, and God in man! Great little one, whose all-embracing birth, Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth! I can’t think of a better description of the “event” of redemption - whose meaning will be fully revealed in the cross and resurrection - than that very last line. I hope that you’ll make it to church on Christmas, so that you might meditate on who Christ is, not simply what he does. Well, what would you say if someone were to ask why they should go to church on Christmas?

Vatican II dealt with the clergy in three decrees: Christus Dominus, dealing with the office of bishop, Presbyterorum Ordinis, treating the ministry and life of priests, and Optatam Totius which summarizes the Church's approach on the formation of priests. The former two have been analyzed on CS earlier this year, and today we'll begin an in-depth look at the last of Vatican II's "clerical trilogy." Comments, as always, are welcome. OT begins with an unnumbered preface: Animated by the spirit of Christ, this sacred synod is fully aware that the desired renewal of the whole Church depends to a great extent on the ministry of its priests. It proclaims the extreme importance of priestly training and lays down certain basic principles by which those regulations may be strengthened which long use has shown to be sound and by which those new elements can be added which correspond to the constitutions and decrees of this sacred council and to the changed conditions of our times. Because of the very unity of the Catholic priesthood this priestly formation is necessary for all priests, diocesan and religious and of every rite. Wherefore, while these prescriptions directly concern the diocesan clergy, they are to be appropriately adapted to all. Good start. It acknowledges the crucial role of the priest in Church renewal. It honors the notion that priests across the world have a common baseline of formation, one that enhances a certain unity within the priesthood. It remains open to beneficial and pragmatic changes, and suggests adaptation as a virtue to be applied to priests in religious orders. OT1 begins: Since only general laws can be made where there exists a wide variety of nations and regions, a special "program of priestly training" is to be undertaken by each country or rite. It must be set up by the episcopal conferences, revised from time to time and approved by the Apostolic See. In this way will the universal laws be adapted to the particular circumstances of the times and localities so that the priestly training will always be in tune with the pastoral needs of those regions in which the ministry is to be exercised. A sensible beginning. Episcopal conferences build upon general laws to complete a comprehensive formation. The Vatican oversees as necessary. Not only are local adaptations made, but accommodations to the times as well.

Summing up Dignitatis Humanae 15, the Council recognizes three facts:

1. People want to be free to profess religion privately and publicly.

2. Many governments acknowledge this, declaring it to be a civil right.

3. Yet some governments deny this freedom. This council greets with joy the first of these two facts as among the signs of the times. With sorrow, however, it denounces the other fact, as only to be deplored. The council exhorts Catholics, and it directs a plea to all (people), most carefully to consider how greatly necessary religious freedom is, especially in the present condition of the human family.

The Council saw that religious freedom is vital to peaceful and harmonious human interaction:

All nations are coming into even closer unity. Men of different cultures and religions are being brought together in closer relationships. There is a growing consciousness of the personal responsibility that every man has. All this is evident. Consequently, in order that relationships of peace and harmony be established and maintained within the whole of mankind, it is necessary that religious freedom be everywhere provided with an effective constitutional guarantee and that respect be shown for the high duty and right of man freely to lead his religious life in society.

The document concludes with a prayer:

May the God and Father of all grant that the human family, through careful observance of the principle of religious freedom in society, may be brought by the grace of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit to the sublime and unending and "glorious freedom of the sons of God" (Rom. 8:21).

The pope referred to this document in his Angelus address earlier today; see the zenit link on the sidebar for it. Clearly, the Holy Father still sees this document as an essential part of the Vatican II spectrum, as should we.

It seems to me the notion of freedom and religion is twofold. As Catholics, we are naturally concerned about the free expression of religion, especially of our sisters and brothers in deplorable situations. We should likewise be aware of the freedom to search for the truth. In other words, people who may not have uncovered their religious destiny. Do they operate in an atmosphere that assists or inhibits that search?

The Council recognized that the Christian example of believers is paranount to attracting newcomers. Is there anything we would do contrary to the Gospel spirit? Such a means would circumvent the desired end: the conversion of the entire world's people to Christ.

The question for Catholics on this topic would seem to be evident: do we faciliatate the absolute freedom of others? Like the voice of the herald, do we straighten the desert path for Christ, or do we entertain obstacles between people and their God?

Liam's sound suggestion for a Christmas classic: I would like to take this opportunity to plead for the reversal of a great wrong done to what has become a traditional piece of Christmas hymnody: what is known as O Holy Night in English. It is a nearly perfect case of a translation draining the power out of the original; where the power of the original was neatly met by the counterpoint of romantic music, the sentimentality of the baleful translation is unforgivably reinforced by it. Please rectify this wrong by only offering the piece in the original French text, with a translation in the program that better conveys the proclamatory power of it: O Holy Night (by Charles Adam) Minuit! Chrétiens! C'est l'heure solennelle Où l'homme Dieu descendit jusqu'à nous, Pour effacer la tache originelle Et de son Père arrêter le courroux. Le monde entier tressaille d'espérance A cette nuit qui lui donne un Sauveur. Peuple à genoux! Attends ta délivrance: Noël! Noël! Voici le Rédempteur: Noël! Noël! Voici le Rédempteur! De notre foi que la lumière ardente Nous guide tous au berceau de l'enfant, Comme autrefois, une étoile brillante Y conduisit les trois chefs d'Orient, Le Roi des rois né dans la dépendance En lui confond toute humaine grandeur Peuple debout!Chante ta délivrance! Noël! Noël! Chantons le Rédempteur! Noël! Noël!Chantons le Rédempteur! [Enfin Jésus a brisé toute entrave; La terre est libre et le ciel est ouvert. Il voit un frère où n'était qu'un esclave L'amour unit ceux qu'enchaînait le fer. Oh! Qui dira notre reconnaissance A ce Jésus, notre aimable Sauveur?] English (translation by Google & my poor attempts to correct its rendering of poetic or idiomatic expressions): Midnight, Christians, it is the solemn hour when the Man-God came down to us to wipe away original sin and to end his Father’s wrath. The entire world is full of hope On this night that gives it a Saviour. People! To your knees! Behold your deliverance! He is born! * He is born! Behold the Redeemer! He is born! He is born! Behold the Redeemer! With our faith as a burning light that guides us all to the cradle of the child, as once a brilliant star led the three kings of the East To the King of kings, born in need: In him human greatness [pride] is confounded. People! To your feet! Sing of your deliverance! He is born!* He is born! Let us sing of the Redeemer! He is born! He is born! Let us sing of the Redeemer! [The child Jesus has broken any barrier; the ground is free and the sky is open. He sees a brother where there was only a slave; Love now links those whom chains** connected. Who will tell of our embrace*** by Jesus, our friendly Saviour?] * "Noël" now means "Christmas" but derived from the French word relating to "nativity" or "birth"; I rendered this in a way more in keeping with the proclamatory sense of the text. ** literally, "iron", in the sense of iron fetters ***literally, "recognition" in the sense of "to know again"; I suspect in the sense that the father embraced the returned prodigal son as his son

Dignitatis Humanae 14 brings us back to a consideration of the Church's role in religious freedom. We claim the freedom. In many places we possess it. What do we do with it?

First, spread the Word: (T)he Catholic Church must work with all urgency and concern "that the word of God be spread abroad and glorified" (2 Thess. 3:1).

Second, pray for all:

Hence the Church earnestly begs of its children that, "first of all, supplications, prayers, petitions, acts of thanksgiving be made for all men.... For this is good and agreeable in the sight of God our Savior, who wills that all men be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Tim. 2:1-4).

Third, inform ourselves:

In the formation of their consciences, the Christian faithful ought carefully to attend to the sacred and certain doctrine of the Church.

This follows on the heels of the last statement. A shift back to the hierarchy? An acknowledgement of the lay participation in evangelization?

For the Church is, by the will of Christ, the teacher of the truth. It is her duty to give utterance to, and authoritatively to teach, that truth which is Christ Himself, and also to declare and confirm by her authority those principles of the moral order which have their origins in human nature itself. Furthermore, let Christians walk in wisdom in the face of those outside, "in the Holy Spirit, in unaffected love, in the word of truth" (2 Cor. 6:6-7), and let them be about their task of spreading the light of life with all confidence and apostolic courage, even to the shedding of their blood.

Our obligation is "grave" as described here:

The disciple is bound by a grave obligation toward Christ, his Master, ever more fully to understand the truth received from Him, faithfully to proclaim it, and vigorously to defend it, never-be it understood-having recourse to means that are incompatible with the spirit of the Gospel.

And we are reminded that using certain "incompatible" means to achieve fruitful proclamation and defense are outright forbidden. In other words, if you can't think of something constructive, get out of the way and let somebody else get it done.

At the same time, the charity of Christ urges him to love and have prudence and patience in his dealings with those who are in error or in ignorance with regard to the faith. All is to be taken into account-the Christian duty to Christ, the life-giving word which must be proclaimed, the rights of the human person, and the measure of grace granted by God through Christ to men who are invited freely to accept and profess the faith.

Patience: the most challenging of the virtues for so many of us.

From Liam, part 2: 1. Eternal Light, shine in my heart; eternal hope, lift up my eyes; eternal power, be my support; eternal wisdom, make me wise. 2. Eternal Life, raise me from death; eternal brightness, help me see; eternal Spirit, give me breath; eternal Savior, come to me: 3. Until by your most costly grace, invited by your holy word, at last I come before your face to know you, my eternal God. The anthem could be sung by the congregation to Marshall’s tune, JACOB, found in the 1982 Episcopalian Hymnal. But the choral setting in the octavo version is quite lovely: unison men for the first verse, two-line counterpoint for the second, and SATB harmony for the last. A fine find.

"Overheard" in another commentariat: I loathe those 'voice of God' songs. I can't really say why, compared with the propers, but they just make my skin crawl. Just a few official antiphons heading your way: 25 December: "The Lord said to me: You are my Son; this day I have begotten you" 22 January: "I am the light of the world, says the Lord ..." 5 February: "Happy are the sorrowing; they shall be consoled. Happy those who hunger and thirst for what is right; they shall be satisfied." Not to mention gospel acclamation verses: 11 December: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me ..." 19 February: "The Lord sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor ..."

Stay Watchful As We Await the Kingdom of God The following is from this week's "Credo" column in the Times by the Rt Rev Geoffrey Rowell, the Anglican bishop of Gibraltar in Europe: I HAVE on my shelves a fascinating book with the title Yesterday’s Tomorrows. It is, as the subtitle makes clear, “an historical survey of future societies”. In other words it is an account of the many fascinating ways in which men and women have sought to anticipate and construct the future, to try to see what it might be like and to suggest some programmes for bringing it about. There are many Utopias, not only that of Sir Thomas More in the 16th century. Down the Christian centuries we find men and women withdrawing to the deserts of the Middle East or the forests of Russia to live apart from the world, to live the life of the angels, as some of them might have said. Monastic communities find, in the structure of their rule and their common life, an anticipation of the life of the kingdom of God. And because the gap between the ideal and the reality is always there, the history of Christian monasticism is a history of movements of reform and renewal; revolutions by tradition to restore a more perfect living out of the Christian Gospel. ... From its origins the Christian Church has lived in the tension between the “already” and the “not yet”. Already Christ has come. Jesus preaches and embodies and lives out the kingdom, the rule of God. Yet it is all too obvious that the consummation of that kingdom is not yet. There seem to have been those in the very earliest days of the Church who thought that Christians would not die because Christ would come again, that there would, in effect, be no “age of the Church”. But that immediate return of Christ did not happen, and so Christians live in the overlap between present reality and the foretaste of the fullness of God’s kingdom of justice and love and peace. Every year the season of Advent challenges us to define the horizon of hope by which we live. The Advent prayers and anthems and hymns are about watchfulness, waking out of sleep, casting off complacency, renewing hope. There is a proper note of judgment because the kingdoms of this world and the often illusory hopes they offer are under the judgment of Christ the King. It is a hope which is an eternal hope, because, as St Paul reminds us, it is not a hope for this world only. Death, which seems to destroy hope, is in Christ the “gate of life immortal”. The God who has set eternity in our hearts is the God who meets us at our dying with the promise of his life.

Took the women of the house to see Trio Mediaeval last night at the cathedral. The singing was sublime. Overheard behind us (we were up in the choir loft): I hope they use mics. Thankfully, they didn't. Tone, diction, blend, repertoire: it was all superlative. The best singing I've ever enjoyed at a concert. They're heading to the East Coast, so Rock, and any other readers out there, take note of their December dates, clear your calendars, and go: 4th and 5th: Norfolk, Virginia 9th: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 10th: Carnegie Hall (Weill), New York 11th: Kennedy Center, Washington D.C.

Frequent commenter Liam sends "a Flowerday(ing) of a contemporary Advent hymn, a recommendation for a contemporary Advent anthem, and a postscript. "I decided to meet the challenge of treating a work by one of the much-decried Minnesota Trinity of Haugen, Haas & Joncas – a work by the last of these three. First, the text: 1. O ancient love, processing through the ages: O hidden love, revealed in human form: O promised love, the dream of seers and sages: O living Love, within our hearts be born, O living Love, within our hearts be borne. 2. O homeless love, that dwells among the stranger: O lowly love, that knows the mighty's scorn: O hungry love, that lay within a manger: O living Love, within our hearts be born, O living Love, within our hearts be borne. 3. O gentle love, caressing those in sorrow: O tender love, that comforts those forlorn: O hopeful love, that promises tomorrow: O living Love, within our hearts be born, O living Love, within our hearts be borne. 4. O suff'ring love, that bears our human weakness: O boundless love, that rises with the morn: O mighty love, concealed in infant meekness: O living Love, within our hearts be born, O living Love, within our hearts be borne. Copyright (c) 1994 GIA Publications. 7404 S Mason Ave, Chicago IL 60638. All rights reserved. Commentary on the text: The text is metrical (11.10.11.10.10) and partially follows the traditional form of a litany by evoking numerous attributes of God. It offers a series of communal petitions to God, also very traditional in liturgical use. The word-play between the penultimate and ultimate line of each verse is perhaps more telling in the reading than the hearing, but it is done with purpose and elegance, rather than gimmickry. The Incarnational motif is not pantheistic, but Christian in origin. I used to be a bit concerned that Christ is not mentioned by name – could the text be understood equivocally? – but over the years came to realize that its breadth was intended to evoke the attributes of the entire Godhead without shoving them into different Persons of the Most Holy Trinity, and was the wiser for doing so. Commentary on the music: While the text is metrical and therefore governs the music in that way, the melody is really a metricized chant. The intervals are simple without being dull, and have a pleasing form is not so ravishing that it overshadows the text. An instrumental score is available, but I am not familiar with anything other than the keyboard part. It avoids the common contemporary arpeggiation of nifty chord progressions, and instead offers support and slight counterpoint to the melody with passing tones beneath, sometimes in modern intervals (parallel sevenths) or somewhat "chantier" open parallel intervals. It thus hearkens to typical organ accompaniment to melodic (not plainsong) chant without aping it. That being said, the percussive aspect of piano may offer more textural counterpoint than organ; harp would seem an inspired choice for this work, but guitar could work. Thus, the music could ably serve the needs of a wide variety of churches and communities and in the process promote the goals of the liturgical reform.

... is that sometimes you can't demonstrate that which is above criticism. Robert Skeris' fifteen-year-old theme on contemporary hymns I found linked at Fr Jeff's site is fatally flawed. Why? His premise is building up by subtraction. Take it to a natural course amongst church musicians (Let's all delete the songs each of us doesn't like and see what's left) and every hymnal would be nearly a blank book--certainly not a recipe for fostering treasure. Skeris does praise Lucien Deiss as a good example of a contemporary liturgical composer, but he seems to take too much delight in skewering his most-disliked list. (He's not very familiar with contemporary liturgical music; he doesn't even bother to footnote proper publishers.) Where Skeris and other critics miss the boat: they rarely seem to offer an analysis of a hymn they do like. So I challenge my blogging musician/critic friends: post some wonderful music on your own site (or post it here ... I'll publish anything too long for the comment boxes) and run through line by line, note by note if you wish. It is in such work that liturgical music will be forwarded. If anyone wants to feel tagged, I'd love to see what thoughtful praise Fr Jeff, Liam, Mary Jane, and/or the Recovering Choir Director can heap on their Advent favorite.

Chet Raymo's two-part post (29 & 30 Nov) on McMansions: well worth reading, including the links. Personally, I'm happy enough in a 50's-built ranch, despite a garage on the side. At least it doesn't cover up the front of the house. In Waterloo, we had a great house. Garage was in the back yard, accessible from the alley. Out of sight; the way it should be. I still mourn selling that house. If we had stayed in Waterloo, we never would've adopted Brittany, so I'm not looking back. Except it would be nice to live in another house like that some day. I'm not a fan of size in houses, though it would be tempting to have a single room devoted to music. Another as a library perhaps. But then again, Chet would say that's what public libraries and concert halls are for. Which is, of course, on the agenda for the day.

Amy asks, "Is the Speakers' Bureau really that small?" I suspect it's a matter of perspective. Thousands of Catholic speeches are given every day. A small minority happen to be given by the personally opposed crowd. Some of those catch the attention of conservative pro-lifers who decide to Take A Stand. It doesn't seem to help matters to disinvite a speaker or attempt to do so; it usually just gives the press some fodder for the B section. A bishop disinviting himself ... that just means somebody else will get his seat at the head table. Instead of a knee-jerk reaction of bluster and name-calling (Anti-Pell?) I wonder if the anti-aborts will ever devise an effective strategy to witness to the pro-life cause without looking like a bunch of bumbling dolts at the dinner table.

In the spectrum of belief on the Iraq War, there are the obvious hawks and doves plus critters in between. Then there is the spectrum of people willing to do something about their beliefs, ranging from those who sacrifice safety and even life to back up their views to those who are content to wage battles from their personal comfort zone. I have a high regard for soldiers. Partly because many of my family members have served in the military. Most soldiers, like most peace activists, are principled individuals. I might disagree with a person's opinions, but virtues like honor, commitment, sacrifice: these I can respect. I happen to believe war is a substantially misguided operation, probably mortally sinful for those who make the ultimate choice, be they bloodthirsty fanatics or oil executives turned politicos. But getting caught up in their misadventures? These days we all share it. The real heroes of struggle are such as these, who sadly, and perhaps like their military brothers and sisters, are conveniently ignored unless victims of violence themselves. It was probably news to a few hundred million Americans that people actually were in Iraq doing this kind of work. In all the rhetoric about who is a "patriot," who is "putting troops in harm's way," the real work of building the future is being done quietly, thanklessly, by many thousands of people. In my country these days, that work is not being started at the top. My beef with Bush is not necessarily with his argument it's not the right time to "cut and run." But I do note that for pacifists such as Jim Loney, it's not even an option on the table. And regardless of how the Bush adventures in the Gulf turn out long term, Iraq will still be visited by people wanting to make a small difference one day at a time. My complaint with the president is the seeming lack of virtue in any approach he takes to Iraq. The constant need to spin decisions and policies might be politically expedient, but it lacks any sort of virtue: there is no sense of sacrifice, patience, or anything good. The fingers-crossed hope that Iraqi elections will fare well and violence trickle down seems more like the student who didn't study for a test, then heads into the exam room with a vain hope that the questions will magically hit brain content or the power will fail. Not up to the Biblical standard of hope. Not by a long shot. My hope--which I pray is not a vain one--is that my country will realize the limits of brute power. We cannot hope to win a war in Iraq or any other country by an exercise in Colonialism 6.0. What can gain for us is a return to a sense of virtue. In that sense Loney, and his pacifist companions, not to mention military people with their sense of honor, are all of a different stripe than Karl Rove's political minions. Way, way different.

Elizabeth Lev has a good piece on Zenit dated 2005-12-01 (it's the fourth from the top). I can't figure out how to link individual stories there, and after putzing around for five minutes, the best I can say is to look for the headline starting "A More-Than-Academic Visit; Brains and Beauty ..." The former refers to Benedict XVI's visit to the Pontifical Academies for the Sciences and Social Sciences at which Lev reports: The Holy Father returned the greetings of the Academy, expressing his pleasure with the chosen topic of "The Concept of the Person in the Social Sciences." He stated that the "human person is at the heart of the whole social order," and that the "status of the human person" is a "theme which must continue to be part of the dialogue with science." And a bit of the background behind the martyr whom I often refer to in my "shortened" litany of saints with the protomartyr: "St Stephen, St Catherine, and all martyrs" St. Catherine lived in the early fourth century under the reign of Emperor Maximinus who was cruelly persecuting Christians in Alexandria. The well-educated daughter of King Costus met with the emperor and berated him for torturing Christians and worshipping false idols. (B)esotted by her beauty and enraged by her eloquence, Maximinus found himself unable to refute her arguments and assembled the 50 most learned men in Egypt. They were ordered to lead Catherine into error and contradiction through their sophistry. They failed, converted and died martyrs encouraged and comforted by Catherine. The empress, curious about such an exceptional young woman, arranged to meet the saint and she too converted and was put to death. The emperor, infuriated at the conversion of his scholars, soldiers and consort, decided to devise an exemplary death to deter the further spread of Christianity. Maximinus created a spiked wheel intended to rend and tear the flesh of the 18-year-old woman. St. Catherine, fearless before traps of the mind and tortures of the body, knelt and prayed before the machine, which was miraculously destroyed. The emperor finally had Catherine beheaded and she was buried on Mount Sinai where later a church and monastery would be founded.

Love Without Limits This is a translation of part of the Orthodox priest Lev Gillet's 1971 book Amour Sans Limites. You can read a little more here. And you can learn more about Father Lev Gillet (1893-1980) here. I am your Lord, the Lord of Love. Do you want to enter into the life of Love? This is not an invitation to some realm of tepid tenderness. It is a calling to enter into the burning flame of Love. There alone is true conversion: conversion to incandescent Love. Do you wish to become someone other than you have been, someone other than you are? Do you wish to be someone who lives for others, and first of all for that Other and with that Other who calls all things into being? Do you wish to be a brother to all, a brother to the entire world? Then hear what my Love speaks to you. My child, you have never known who you really are. You do not yet know yourself. I mean, you have never really known yourself to be the object of my Love. As a result, you have never known who you are in me, or all the potential within yourself. Awake from this sleep and its bad dreams! In certain moments of truth, you see nothing in yourself but failures and defeats, set-backs, corruption, and perhaps even crimes. But none of that is really of you. It is not your true “me,” the most profound expression of your true self. Beneath and behind all that, deeper than all your sin, transgressions and lacks, my eyes are upon you. I see you, and I love you. It is you that I love. It’s not the evil you do – the evil that we can neither ignore nor deny nor lessen (is black actually white?). But underneath it all, at a greater depth, I see something else that is still very much alive. The masks you wear, the disguises you adopt might well hide you from the eyes of others – and even from your own eyes. But they cannot hide you from me. I pursue you even there where no one has ever pursued you before. Your deceptive expression, your feverish quest for excitement, your hard and avaricious heart – all of that I separate from you. I cut it away and cast it far off from you. Hear me. No one truly understands you. But I understand you. I can speak about you such wonderful, marvelous things! I can say these things about you. Not about the “you” that the powers of darkness have so often led astray, but about the “you” who is as I desire you to be, the “you” who dwells in my thoughts as the object of my love. I can say these things about the “you” who can still be what I want you to be, and to be so visibly.

The Church Has Many Problems And how do we solve them? I'd like to continue to suggest that the answer lies less with our conventional schemes of self and ecclesial improvement, which, insightful and brilliant though they may be, still leave us subject to the "slavery of the fear of death" (Heb 2:15), and the distortions of fear, envy, and anger that come from that fear. The late Orthodox theologian Fr John Meyendorff wrote, "The model here is Darwinian: fear of death generates struggle for survival, and survival is attainable only at the expense of others - a survival of the fittest, winning over the weak." Armed only with the right schemes and books, it is easy to find yourself ironically witnessing to Christ less with the fruits of the Spirit, and more with the defensiveness, animosity, and anxiety that inevitably come with any "struggle for survival." The answer to our problems, then, must lie more in our willingness to, as the elder put it, "stand where Christ was crucified," trusting that Christ has already trampled death by his death and freed us from its slavery. But how does this work? The Lutheran theologian Lois Malcolm, to whom I am indebted for much of what follows, reminds us that St Paul faced an staggering list of problems in Corinth - sexual immorality (including "a man living with his father's wife"), legal disputes, conflicts over celebration of the Eucharist, disputes over the meaning of Resurrection - as well as unsettled issues involving marriage, the consumption of meat that had been offered to idols, and the role of spiritual gifts in communal life. Perhaps this list compares to our own. How would you have responded? One might have expected Paul to respond with a very long and detailed scheme of ecclesial improvement (in several volumes). Instead, in the First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul seeks to enact nothing less than a perceptual shift in his readers. His vocabulary is full of perceptual words such as apokalypsis (unveil), eidon (see), and ginosko (perceive) - there are 26 perceptual verbs in all. Paul does such a thing by claiming that the "message of the Cross" is apocalyptic, dividing humanity into those who find the Cross to be "foolishness" and are perishing, and those who are "being saved" as they find “foolishness” to be the "power of God" (1 Cor 1:18). This strange new framework will remind us of Paul's use of an early baptismal formula in the Letter to the Galatians, where he writes that "putting on" Jesus Christ creates a new contrast between spirit and flesh that simply shatters our old antinomies between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female. Paul also uses Stoic rhetorical strategies that mean to shift the audience's perspective away from the standpoint of its own prudential concerns to a new and more objective standpoint. Dr Malcolm says that this "involves the activity of learning to actually see and perhaps even to feel things from the standpoint of the common good - for example, to see things from another's perspective or to see how one's natural regard for one's kind might be extended to all people." Paul, through his new standpoint, speaks of a new distinction: "those who live by the mind [psychikos]," disobedient like the Adam who tried to grasp at being godlike, and "those who are spiritual [pneumatikos]," like the Christ who "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave" (Phil 2:7). How does the Cross effect this unlikely shift in perception? In sharing the "message of the Cross," Paul first reminds the unruly Corinthians of an unmet expectation, that "the world did not know God through wisdom," despite its hunger for signs and wisdom. Then we meet an unexpected reversal, that "God decided through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe," the proclamation being that of the crucified Christ. We are faced with two different responses: we either trip over the stumbling block or we accept God's "foolishness." If we accept the foolishness of the Cross, we experience the power of God, and discover that God's weakness is paradoxically "stronger than human strength." Paul returns to this pattern to describe how God did not choose the wise, powerful, or those of noble birth. Instead, "God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are" (1 Cor 1:27). If we are moved to join this low and despised people, Christ will become our source for righteousness, sanctification, and redemption. Even Paul himself did not come as expected. He spoke not with the usual "lofty words and wisdom" but "in weakness and in fear and in much trembling." Those who could still be attentive to his plain words would receive a faith that rested upon the "power of God." There is a great reversal in all of this, foretold in the Magnificat, present at the heart of Jesus' ministry, and manifested on Pentecost, when the Spirit was poured out on "all flesh" - men and women, young and old, and even slaves. Our old categories will not suffice. This shift in perception is described as "having the mind of the Lord" (1 Cor 2:16, see also Phil 2:5). We no longer need to cling to status in fear of a final shame and humiliation, because we have discovered wisdom and power in foolishness and marginality - in a crucifixion, no less. The shadow of death is replaced by the consciousness of the sheer and unimaginable abundance of God’s love. Dr Malcolm speaks of the ability "to see things from the standpoint of the largesse Christ shares with God, a largesse that gives him the freedom not to grasp at or exploit what he has but to empty himself for the sake of another." Merely a moral example, a few good principles, or even threats would hardly be enough to overcome the specter of death. Very practically, this shift to a new mode of perception comes with the refusal to engage in jealousy and quarreling or to form factions. Living from the "mind of Christ" - the experience of a life that is no longer haunted by death - frees one from the desperation of envy, fear, and anger to embrace the common good. This common good is not merely intellectual or abstract, but embraces who we are in a more comprehensive way. We will be drawn to the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. We will turn away from the works of the flesh: enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, and envy. This is so clear when the Church assembles for a baptism, which entails a dying and rising with Christ, and acknowledges that the new Christian has an identity which renders all the usual egoistic or factional pretensions meaningless. It simply no longer matters if one is weak, foolish, or can assert his race, gender, or class – or even his own virtue. An over-reliance on what we might call institutional hygiene can unintentionally cause us to forget the roots of our problems. It is not a lack of plans or enforcement. It really has to do with that old patristic dictum: "Christ became like us in order that we might become like him." Can we really move aside our egoistic and partial viewpoints to embrace the self-emptying of Christ? Can we really shift our perceptions to have "the mind of the Lord"? If we say yes, by the grace of God, we will have the wisdom to solve our problems. Wisdom might not lead to the ability to write a manifesto, but it is "intelligent, holy, unique, manifold, subtle, mobile, clear, unpolluted, distinct, invulnerable, loving the good, keen, irresistible, beneficent, humane, steadfast, sure, free from anxiety, all-powerful, overseeing all, and penetrating through all spirits that are intelligent, pure, and altogether subtle" (Wis 7:22-23). Unfortunately, those sometimes don’t appear to be the most desirable qualities during a "struggle for survival," when we are fearful for so many things - our churches, our families, our society – and so anxious to protect ourselves. Comments are more than welcome. These are all thoughts-in-progress (perhaps that’s too generous …).

The Catholic Commentariat at open book getting all fussed about nothing. Again. A high school offers wishes for Happy Holidays. Fine by me. George sensibly comments about Jerry Falwell's foray into the dismay. It's not Christmas until sundown of December 24th. I will accept Merry (or Happy) Christmas from that point until the day after Epiphany. Until then, it is Advent. "Happy Holidays" will do just fine.

And if someone wants to slip and offer me a "Happy Holidays" after the 24th, that'll be okay, too, for I do observe Holy Family, New Year's, the Solemnity of Mary, and especially the Epiphany. Holidays, plural. And I promise not to respond "And with your spirit" no matter what greeting you give me.

My friend Tom passed this on to me (including the headline): On November 30, 1954, Ann Hodges, a 31-year-old resident of tiny Sylacauga, Alabama, was taking an early-afternoon nap on her living room couch when an eight-and-a-half-pound chunk of rock smashed through the roof, destroyed her radio cabinet, bounced, and landed on her. It was the first, and so far only, recorded instance of a meteorite hitting a human being. The room became choked with dust. Hodges’s mother rushed in, thinking the chimney had collapsed. Then both women saw the strange black rock sitting on the floor. It had left Ann Hodges with bruises on her hand and thigh. Had someone thrown it at their house? They called the local police and fire department, who, confronted by the strange stone, eventually brought in a geologist. The rock, it turned out, was not of this earth, and the Hodgeses suddenly were local celebrities. Sylacauga’s mayor visited and had his picture taken among the growing throng of media and onlookers. Ann’s husband, Eugene, had been out of town on business. He came home to make his way through the crowd. By then the meteorite in the living room had already been taken away by a U.S. Air Force helicopter crew and transported to a military base in Ohio. The Cold War was just starting a space race between the United States and the Soviet Union, and the government was quick to confiscate anything from space that fell on U.S. soil. Eugene Hodges was not pleased. He figured that a space rock must be worth a lot of money-a windfall that was rightfully his family’s. Indeed, representatives of the Smithsonian Institution and other museums came calling, offering thousands of dollars for the rock. The Hodgeses hired a lawyer to help get it back, and the government gladly yielded it when it became clear that the cantaloupe-size missile wasn’t part of a Soviet spacecraft. But the Hodgeses still had more time to spend in the courtroom. In the wake of the hubbub, their landlady retained a lawyer too; since the meteorite had landed on her property, she maintained, it belonged to her. After all, she needed to repair the meteorite-size hole in the roof of the house, and that cost money. After more legal wrangling, all widely reported, the Hodgeses eventually settled with their landlady and got possession of the meteorite. But by 1956 they found that all the lucrative offers had dried up; the Smithsonian, for instance, had gone on to find another piece of the same meteorite a few miles away. The couple made the best of things, milking their fame as well as they could. They appeared the TV game show I’ve Got a Secret. Finally, Ann Hodges, exhausted by the all the stress and attention, got rid of the thing. She donated it to the University of Alabama in 1956, against her husband’s wishes. The rock, which turned out to be more than four billion years old, is still on display there. It is one of the most popular displays at the university’s Alabama Museum of Natural History. Ann Hodges never fully recovered. She had a nervous breakdown a few years later, and the Hodgeses eventually divorced. She died in 1972. When asked about the meteorite decades later, an 82-year-old Eugene Hodges was philosophical. "I wish it’d never happened, but it did happen," he said. "There’s nothing we can do about it now." The mayor, Ann Hodges, and the police chief examine the rock beneath the hole where it entered the room. (Alabama Museum of Natural History, the University of Alabama)

The Spitzer Space Telescope has found a dust disk orbiting a brown dwarf. The BD is about eight times the mass of Jupiter, and about half the size of the largest discovered planet. Brown dwarfs are celestial bodies (sidus, in Latin) that lacked the necessary mass to ignite into a star. They've been heated by gravity and are far cooler than red stars. But they can be detected in the infrared by the afterglow of their formation. Because of the scattering of energy, we can detect diffuse disks of dust much more easily than planets. In fact, disks were spotted around stars years before we detected the first planets. Giant planets in our own solar system have bevies of moons, so this finding isn't really surprising. But it does confirm the suspicion that planets are very, very common in our galaxy, even around bodies that failed as stars.

Dignitatis Humanae 13 speaks of this being a "sacred freedom," a "fundamental principle" in all relations between Church and state. This freedom is claimed on spiritual authority, "established by Christ the Lord, upon which there rests, by divine mandate, the duty of going out into the whole world and preaching the Gospel to every creature." The Church also claims freedom as a basic right possessed by our members as citizens and human beings. "(T)he Christian faithful, in common with all other (people), possess the civil right not to be hindered in leading their lives in accordance with their consciences. Therefore, a harmony exists between the freedom of the Church and the religious freedom which is to be recognized as the right of all men and communities and sanctioned by constitutional law."

Dignitatis Humanae 12 in whole: In faithfulness therefore to the truth of the Gospel, the Church is following the way of Christ and the apostles when she recognizes and gives support to the principle of religious freedom as befitting the dignity of man and as being in accord with divine revelation. Throughout the ages the Church has kept safe and handed on the doctrine received from the Master and from the apostles. In the life of the People of God, as it has made its pilgrim way through the vicissitudes of human history, there has at times appeared a way of acting that was hardly in accord with the spirit of the Gospel or even opposed to it. Nevertheless, the doctrine of the Church that no one is to be coerced into faith has always stood firm. Thus the leaven of the Gospel has long been about its quiet work in the minds of men, and to it is due in great measure the fact that in the course of time men have come more widely to recognize their dignity as persons, and the conviction has grown stronger that the person in society is to be kept free from all manner of coercion in matters religious. Doesn't matter that Christians have practiced coercion. The teaching on freedom of conscience is basic to human dignity.

How does the document treat the reality of Jesus Christ, of whom most every living human being has heard. Is Christ essential? And how do we tackle the conundrum of presenting Christ, yet not in a coercive way? God calls (people) to serve Him in spirit and in truth, hence they are bound in conscience but they stand under no compulsion. God has regard for the dignity of the human person whom He Himself created and (people are) to be guided by (their) own judgment and (they are) to enjoy freedom. Dignitatis Humanae 11 states that in Christ, this divine truth is most manifest. DH appeals to Christ's gpspel example first of all, noting: Christ is at once our Master and our Lord and also meek and humble of heart. In attracting and inviting His disciples He used patience. He wrought miracles to illuminate His teaching and to establish its truth, but His intention was to rouse faith in His hearers and to confirm them in faith, not to exert coercion upon them. Further, Jesus did criticize unbelief, but we see that mostly in those who claim a certain religiosity. But Jesus also taught through the parable of the one who mixed weed seeds in amongst the wheat the divine plan that the final determination of individual salvation occurs in a future, not in the human present. Faith is indeed essential for salvation: When He sent His Apostles into the world, He said to them: "He who believes and is baptized will be saved. He who does not believe will be condemned" (Mark 16:16). Yet Jesus abjured the use of force, disappointing those who would have preferred a political Messiah. Instead, he saw himself as a fulfillment of Isaiah's Suffering Servant (Isaiah 42:1ff, 49.1ff, 50.4ff, and 52:13ff) In the end, when He completed on the cross the work of redemption whereby He achieved salvation and true freedom for men, He brought His revelation to completion. For He bore witness to the truth, but He refused to impose the truth by force on those who spoke against it. Not by force of blows does His rule assert its claims. It is established by witnessing to the truth and by hearing the truth, and it extends its dominion by the love whereby Christ, lifted up on the cross, draws all men to Himself. Jesus' sacrifice set the tone for the Apostolic Era. And by accounts, the early Church was eminently successful in spite of persecution and hardships. Preaching was unflinching, at least as reported in Acts and the Epistles, yet St Paul acknowledged "those of weaker stuff, even though they were in error, and thus they made it plain that 'each one of us is to render to God an account of himself' (Romans 14:12) and for that reason is bound to obey (the) conscience." The apostles "followed the example of the gentleness and respectfulness of Christ and they preached the word of God in the full confidence that there was resident in this word itself a divine power able to destroy all the forces arrayed against God and bring (people) to faith in Christ and to His service." It strikes me that a low regard for non-Christians actually betrays a lack of faith. Salvation is not dependent on people coming to belief and confessing to Christians, but ultimately God and the revealed Jesus Christ. Jesus example and his task for us is quite simple: be a witness and let the unbeliever be converted by testimony (spoken and unspoken). In a sense each conversion opportunity is a court. Christians are not the prosecutors or judges, but merely the attorneys arguing their case. Non-believers are not the defendants, but members of the jury open to being convinced. For the present, God seems satisfied to be on trial, in the sense that individuals make a conscientious judgment on the Truth as presented. It seems to me that Christians should be more concerned about making the best possible case, rather than jump to judgment and usurp a role they have not been given. Jesus' way is simple and beautiful. Convince by one's own witness. Everybody keeps to his or her own role. Freedom is respected.