Catholic History and Tradition

Proof of God's existence?

2010-11-30T19:41:00.002-06:00

There's a common argument made by atheists against the existence of God. It runs basically like this: IF God exists, and assuming that God is all-good and all-powerful, then there would be no catastrophic suffering, like in Haiti during the aftermath of the earthquake, or the Gulf Coast after Katrina, or the Indian Ocean rim after the 2005 tsunami. Those catastrophes affect the just and unjust alike and are surely not the work of an all-good or all-powerful being. Therefore, God is either not all-good, or not all-powerful or simply nonexistent.

That seems like a bulletproof argument and it's hard to refute, but I've been thinking about it and I think I see the flaw in the logic. Let me restate the argument in stick-figure form.

1. If God exists, then He has these properties and will behave in this way.

2. If God acts in such a way then these physical signs will be evident.

3. Since we don't see the physical signs listed in item 2, item 1 must be false.

Ergo: God does not exist.

There are, as I see it, two flaws with this argument.

1. The basis of the argument depends on the idea that we know for certainty what God will do in any situation. However, that is not the Christian idea. Jesus said "my ways are above your ways as the heavens are above the earth". In other words, Jesus claims that God's actions are somewhat inscrutible. Now, the atheist argument is not targeted to Christianity. Fair enough, but atheists can't define God for themselves, then knock that definition down. If they are going to disprove the existence of God, they need to stick to commonly accepted arguments for who God is. Even reducing God's nature to the bare minimum shared by all theists, that God is the one who created the universe, they still don't get to restrict God to a job description of their own devising. My answer to this argument would be "I agree, I don't believe in that god either."

2. The basis of the second premise is that clear cut signs of God's intervention are evident, but in fact that's an impossibility, most of the time. If someone says that Haiti is proof that God didn't intervene, why can't I say that the fact that Miami didn't get hit with a Category 5 Hurricane in August of 2010 is proof that God did intervene? Simply because it didn't happen. But should it have happened? Can I prove that it should have happened? Of course not. I can't look into some sort of parallel universe where it did happen and say "See? God saved all those people" because I can't prove a negative.

Of course, miracles are commonly applied to the argument for God. Someone SHOULD have died but didn't. Someone SHOULD be crippled but isn't. But those are hard to prove, and typically take years of investigation and even then are not often accepted.

So what is the answer? Why would God, if He is good, allow suffering? Why would God allow His own Son to suffer and die? That doesn't much match the notion of "goodness", but according to Peter Kreeft, we confuse "goodness" with "kindness". It may not be the kind thing to do to allow a disaster like Haiti, but perhaps it's the good thing to do. Perhaps by showing the world a taste of Hell, it brings out the best in people, calls people back to the faith and saves souls for all eternity, while admittedly making life impossibly difficult in the short run. I'm sure the people of Haiti would prefer that someone else is made an example of! (I don't mean to minimize the horrific conditions there).

Good things in the Church

2010-09-26T20:24:00.003-05:00

We had a guest priest today at Mass. A firecracker of a sermon, mentioning how sufferings can be offered up and the tradition of making a morning offering. The priest even used written notes. He was a youngish Irish priest from Irving. I'll have to figure out who he is.

Cool.

Whither EWTN? Maybe Not.

2010-09-14T20:08:00.003-05:00

For some time now I've been despairing of EWTN. The honeymoon is over. The content of the shows is fine, but the quality has been getting me down. Given our rich artistic heritage in the Catholic Church, I fret a little at what we're shown as the current pinnacle of Catholic cultural achievement. The camcorder-on-remote-in-the-back-of-the-room treatment is cringe-inducing.

Am I being elitist? Snobbish? Overly demanding? Well yes, I suppose I am. But I've given enough money to EWTN, our local radio station, Catholic Answers that I start to wonder what they are doing with all of it.

Certainly not buying more episodes of the promising Faithful Traveler. Or putting Bob and Penny out to seed. Or buying Joanna Bogle a mirror and a can of hairspray. The last straw, I think, was when Dr Ray Guarendi's show about what the Catholic Church teaches was recently re-run. It was literally him and his parish priest sitting on folding chairs in front of the altar at their parish with a camcorder set up ten feet away and a microphone sitting off somewhere. Echos, bad lighting, the whole shebang. I like Dr Guarendi a lot, I listen to his radio show frequently and find him witty and intelligent, but this show was a travesty.

Compare that with this. Fr Barron has a slick site up on YouTube where he posts video commentaries, with a professional soundtrack, an apparent knack for setting (either his cluttered office or somewhere outside, in either case demonstrating energy and action) and he seems to be in proportion to the frame. His Catholicism Project looks very promising. How'd he get the money for that? He got some of it from me, but the scope of this project is way beyond what EWTN could pay for. I guess he doesn't have to pay for satellite transmitters and studios and shortwave antennas so he can concentrate on producing content.

Anyway, I was surprised and a little dismayed when I saw that David Clayton (of The New Liturgical Movement) was going to have a show on CatholicTV. CatholicTV is run by that quirky little archdiocese in Boston that can't ever seem to make up it's mind whether it opposes abortion or not. Also on CatholicTV's website is a show about the Gospel of Matthew. EWTN is getting competition! And Deacon Bill has been on TV wringing his hands that EWTN is down $750K. Are they simply getting pushed aside and fading to irrelevance? I was less distressed when I saw the trailer for the Catholic Art show and heard Mr Clayton droning on that "Oi'm gonna 'ave a show abawt aht" with a subtle but unmistakable echo in the background. Also CatholicTV seemed to take forever to get the shows online and when it finally popped up, it was a thinly disguised infomercial for Mr. Clayton's own art endeavors.

The initial Gospel of Matthew episode was a bit better done, but managed to say exceedingly little in it's first half hour.

EWTN is using YouTube to host their shows, and I can't figure out how they are doing that (it seems to violate YouTube's terms and conditions to have a religious entity like EWTN hosting shows, but they have the Vatican signed up as well, so who knows?) and they usually get the shows up within a working day.

EWTN was shut out of the last two USCCB meetings, but they are back broadcasting this fall's meeting.

So things don't seem to be any better elsewhere. The quality of programming is the same on CatholicTV and EWTN. If EWTN is broke, at least they aren't funding a TV studio while paying through the nose for the sex abuse crisis from years past. And the USCCB seems to be warming up to them again, for whatever reason.

Studied Ambiguity

2010-09-05T10:10:00.002-05:00

On a recent episode of Catholic Answers, the ever-present Sharon Lee Giganti was on discussing the dangers of the New Age. One of the callers brought up one Richard Rohr and she raised much caution over his vague yet compelling statements. Richard Rohr tends to say things like "Organized religion is great for getting people started in the spiritual life, but to truly become a disciple of God you have to move beyond that." Well, beyond what, exactly? Beyond a simple memorization of the creed? Beyond attending Mass to punch your God-card? Beyond a belief in sin? Beyond a belief in the Sacraments? It's possible to take some of Fr Rohr's statements in a very orthodox manner, but also possible to take them as justifying all manner of beliefs commonly condemned as "modernism". So which is it?

Patrick Coffin described it as "Studied Ambiguity" and that phrase hit me like a lightening bolt as I'd never heard it before (although a quick search shows it's been around for a long time).

Now I have a creepy feeling about Father Rohr. I read about how he promotes male spirituality and I think that this is very laudable: men need to take a more active role in the Church. But then I hear that his retreats often involve men dancing naked around a fire and I think "Whoa!". Then I read some of the things he rights and I can't figure out whether I agree with them or not because the seem to be saying something counter to the Magesterium, but it's hard to find a single sentence that actually says something counter to the Magesterium. Studied Ambiguity. But in total, I think he's a Boomer crank and should be banished from the Church.

Except my RCIA director loves him and frequently reads from him in class. So I was all ready to take a stand and say "I don't want any more Richard Rohr or I'm out of here!" and even go to the former pastor with my concerns. Then I found out that my Pastor is best friends with Richard Rohr and is planning a join speaking tour with him now that he's retired.

And my former pastor practices Studied Ambiguity with the best of them. For years I described his homilies as Sweet Nothings, they sound good but ultimately have no substance. But lots of people thought they were awesome. Some even compared him to St Anthony who famously could give a preaching that educated and uneducated alike got a lot out of (even going so far to preach to fishes).

I guess I don't do well with ambiguity because I never got a thing out of his sermons. He'd consistently say things like "when you understand how things really are, then you'll be happy." That would be in response to some human foible like guilt or vanity, but he'd never explain "how things really are".

Is that because I'm getting older that I don't have patience for all this nonsense? Come out and say you're a friggin liberal and can't stand all this patriarchal nonsense. Or open up and say you're a friggin conservative and wish a pox on hippies. But at least say what you mean. That doesn't mean I'll like it: I'm likely to get up and leave. But at least we're not wasting our time

More about the Liturgical Year as a spiral

2010-08-07T17:58:00.002-05:00

The more I think about it, the more that image makes sense. If you don't learn something from every feast day and every celebration, then you're not moving in a spiral. You're moving in a circle. And that's tedious and unproductive. And it could be said for life as well. If you don't learn and grow from every experience, you're moving in a circle with no destination, no purpose and no value.

Liturgical Year

2010-08-07T12:08:00.003-05:00

I went to the First Friday Pro-Life Vigil Mass last night at the Carmelite Chapel. The Mass was celebrated by Father Wolfe, the assistant pastor at Mater Dei. He's an interesting priest, with a distinctive accent in his Latin and an energetic presentation style. He said something at first mundane, but then a bit startling. He said that we should view the liturgical year as a spiral. Yesterday was the feast of the Transfiguration. Next year when we come around to the Transfiguration, we should be a little higher in our understanding of it. And then the following year a little higher still. So we keep spiraling up in our understanding.

Not bad. But wait: that means we have to understand it in the first place. Let's say we start out and know nothing about Transfiguration. Someone tells us about it and now we know at least the definition of the Transfiguration. That's one step up the spiral. But then we have to learn more about it before the following feast day comes, or at least learn more about it ON the next feast day. And for this to be a true spiral, we have to apply our understanding of the Transfiguration to the understanding of the next major feast day (for instance, the Assumption).

But how do we do that? At mass, all I hear is that Jesus loves me. That's great news! But what does that to do with the Transfiguration? Or the Assumption? In fact, I don't ever hear anything in a homily related to the feast day or holy day on which the sermon falls, and rarely about the season. There are numerous sites that host homilies and I venture to say that with rare exceptions, I could randomly download a homily from a Novos Ordo parish and it'd fit right in with the homily that my pastor custom wrote for today's mass. Unless I happen to randomly pick a homily for Easter or Christmas. If someone asks me what the Transfiguration is all about, do I say "Jesus loves you" as if that explains it all?

Father Corapi has a similar goofy thing that he says. He claims in the intro to his Catechism Series that "all the words in this book can be summarized in one word, The Eternal Word, Jesus the Christ". What does that even mean? If someone asks me what the Church teaches about Indulgences, do I answer "Jesus the Christ"? If someone else asks why the Ten Commandments are different in Catholic and Protestant Churches do I answer "Jesus the Christ"?

Now, I'm not opposed to Jesus -- far from it! -- and I'm also very much in support of people talking about Jesus, but I think we can apply His Life to our circumstances in a bit more specific manner than by invoking His Name or His Love.

Father Wolfe said that we could celebrate the same Mass every day, but the Church doesn't because it wants people to grow in holiness by gaining a greater understanding of the Life of Jesus and the Graces that came from that Life. But I do hear the same homily every day: Jesus loves me. That's great news! But it's not consistent with Father Wolfe's message.

So I have one set of priests who feel the essential point of a homily is to assure me of Jesus' love, and another set who feel their function is to educate and illuminate. Who's right?

Good News from Mater Dei

2010-05-30T17:16:00.003-05:00

The Mater Dei Latin Mass Community is now a full Parish. I don't know when it happened. In March, Father Longua was on KATH's pledge drive and at that time they were still a Community. However, when I went today they had all the trappings of a Parish and even had First Communion for three little tykes.

They also have two priests. Father Longua and Father Wolfe. And their temporary chapel is still bursting at the seams. Things are definitely looking up for them. I'm suprised that they have two priests, however. FSSP must have a vocations boom if they can supply two priests to what is, relatively speaking, a small parish in Dallas.

Deo Gratias!

Divine Mercy and Obedience

2010-04-11T22:02:00.004-05:00

I probably posted about this before, but it struck me again today, so here goes.

Once upon a time there was a Polish Nun named Faustina. She had visions of Jesus telling her about His infinite mercy. He wants nothing more than to pour out his mercy on poor souls. The imagery in her diary is amazing: Jesus is talking about waves and waves of mercy far in excess of anyone's ability to understand it and the implication is that it's almost a pain for Him to withhold that mercy.

So Jesus asks two things: He wants an image created (seen at left) and He wanted the second Sunday of Easter (today) to be Divine Mercy Sunday. As part of that second request, He said that the image should be shown in church and the priest should preach about Divine Mercy.

Then in 2000, Pope John Paul II finally got around to putting Divine Mercy Sunday on the calendar for the whole church. And that's where we are now.

Except that the Sunday that follows Easter on the Traditional Calendar is Low Sunday. Some Traditionalists complain bitterly that their Low Sunday is being replaced by this feast day. And in many Novus Ordo churches, the priest hasn't given a sermon except for a boilerplate "Jesus loves you just as you are" for so long that they can't even imagine anything else.

And yet, when I attended the Latin Mass put on by the FSSP, they had a picture of the Divine Mercy up on the altar and the sermon was little more than excerpts from St. Faustina's Diary. And my heart was on fire the whole time.

Today we got one sentence about Divine Mercy, which is one more than we got last year. And I heard that my somewhat liberal hometown parish actually had a Divine Mercy program at 3PM today. So perhaps things are changing.

But it gets me: not only the Pope, but Jesus Himself asked for this, and people can't bring themselves to do it. What sort of authority are they looking for, if the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity and His vicar on Earth combined aren't enough? I can understand crusty old Traditionalists not getting with the program, the Divive Mercy is a recent innovation compared to what they are used to, but the NO parish that I am at now, all they ever talk about is love and mercy, but in an inclusive and open way, as long as your conscience is clear. All they'd have to do is put a picture up somewhere and throw in a couple of quotes from Divine Mercy in my Soul and that's it (I don't mean to imply that Divine Mercy in my Soul is a lib-cat book. Far from it). And yet they don't.

So who's obedient here? The FSSP priests who are hold-outs for the older mass, avoiding the new mass like the plague, but still obeying God, or the NO priests, product of diocesan seminaries with their pantsuited nun administrators, up on all the latest trends from the 1970's but still failing to implement a papal directive from 2000? Hmmm. Wasn't there a parable about that?

How will the Church roll out the new translation?

2010-03-17T18:45:00.002-05:00

As a followup to my post on sermons vs homilies, I wonder how different parishes will implement the new missal translations. Assuming the diocese and priest is in favor of them, and I don't doubt that many will implement the new translation as quickly as they can, I wonder what kind of infrastructure they have in place to do it.

Putting articles in the diocesan newspaper is of limited value, because probably most people don't read those and the ones who do likely already have heard about the new translations and will research them on their own. Bulletin inserts have the same downfall, but probably make more sense.

Making an announcement about them during the tedious "liturgy of the announcements" may work in the cases where those announcements come before Mass, but they might make people mad (they make me mad) when they interrupt valuable praying time to practice saying "and with your spirit".

Which leaves the obvious choice of talking about it during the sermon, but if priests feel that their assigned role is to give a homily, that will be uncomfortable and may not go over well.

I really don't know what they'll do. I'm sure there will be chaos, angst and confusion for months but eventually it will work itself out.

Homilies and Sermons

2010-03-15T21:36:00.003-05:00

So last week I was sitting in RCIA class and someone asked what the difference was between a homily and a sermon. I know this one: a homily is a talk that intends to illuminate or explain scripture while a sermon is a general, inspirational talk. So if a Priest stands up and says that today is the feast day of St Tammy of the Snores and goes on to describe the holiness of her life, that's a sermon. If the Priest stands up and says that today's reading is from the 2nd Book of Numerals and took place when Aggripoppa was ruling the Bamleeden, that's a homily. A talk can have aspects of both: a Priest can take the text of one of the readings and explain it and use it as a launching pad for a inspirational talk in which case it might start out as a homily and end as a sermon (which I'd still call a sermon).

Priests are encouraged to give homilies, I think. At least in the post V-II Latin Rite Church.

And then it hit me: that's why I don't like any of the talks I hear at my parish: they are all homilies. When I go to the Latin Mass, or the Byzantine Divine Liturgy or when I listen to EWTN's mass, I hear sermons. I hear something educational, motivational or inspirational. In other words, I learn something, I'm given a job to do, or I just hear something that makes me love God and His Church a little more. But when I go to my local parish I hear two minutes about the 1st reading, two minutes about the second reading, three minutes about the Gospel and one minute about who they all interrelate (always overlooking the Psalm, which I find is usually the connection between all the other readings). It's nice, but ... well it's nice. But it doesn't inspire me to action, nor does it really teach me much, because most of my pet peeves regarding scripture study come up: some random redefinition of a word which may or may not be valid, or some translation nonsense that no one in the congregation knows enough about to challenge.

As a serendipitous benefit, a homily also avoids a lot of uncomfortable subjects. Since Jesus rarely spoke about abortion or contraception, you don't have to worry about bringing those up. And while Paul was a little cranky about homosexuality, he was just kind of cranky in general, so you can't really make too much of that.

I don't know why homilies are so encouraged. Some latent guilt that Catholics don't know the Bible, so this is a way to sneak in some Bible Study? In any case I want more sermons. I don't mind homilies, but they generally aren't as memorable nor as useful as a good old sermon.

What's wrong with the NAB Bible?

2010-03-03T21:56:00.002-06:00

In my blogging lethargy (I'm not blogging anymore, remember?) I failed to notice a comment from a couple of months ago questioning my snide remarks about the NAB. I actually don't have anything against it, except that I think it's a little clunky in parts. The much-praised RSV is very similar to it in many places. I'm no kind of scripture scholar, nor do I know Greek or Hebrew so I can't say whether it's "accurate". I do know that I find the Psalms more pleasant in other translations, but to each his own.

My point is that the NAB is an unloved translation. I could probably hold a convention of NAB-o-philes in a phone booth (an expression that is almost completely anachronistic by now). I'm honest when I say that this person from UD is the only person to ever express a positive opinion about the NAB. Many people have many reasons for disliking or hating that translation and for some reason, they all feel the need to vent their spleens about it at every opportunity. It reminds me of the line from Uncle Buck: "Why do you think she hates me? Is it the hat? A lot of people hate this hat for some reason. It enrages them."

It IS approved by the Church, but that doesn't mean people have to like it. I have some concerns about footnotes but if the Bishops say they are OK, who am I to argue? I guess the Vatican can argue with it because they wouldn't let the US Bishops use it in Mass without changes. But it is another knock against the USCCB. Their film review board praises Golden Compass and Brokeback Mountain, their Voting Guide Writers use more words to say less than any politician you might vote for and their Bible Translating Club comes up with a translation that the Vatican wouldn't allow them to use in Mass lest it scandalize the faithful.

Why I don't use Chrome

2010-03-03T21:55:00.001-06:00

I want to like Google's Chrome browser, I really do. But every time I fire it up and use it for an extended period of time, my Mac gets all wonky and various bits of it stop working. That can't happen on a Mac, can it? But it does on at least one of mine, and the common thread is occasional heavy use of Chrome.

Well, in a manner of speaking...

2010-02-24T20:02:00.002-06:00

More about the University of Dallas

2010-01-24T19:48:00.003-06:00

Had RCIA today. It featured a speaker from UD. I'd heard this guy talk before and remembered him being an effective speaker. He uses humor, activities and an obvious joy in his topic to keep the presentation moving along. Today he was talking about the Bible. It was going OK, until he brought up a a document by the Pontifical Biblical Commission called The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church. It's a fine document, but he focused on one paragraph that dealt with fundamentalism which said that fundamentalists are opposed to the historical critical method. That seemed to be a major accusation. Similar to saying someone is a "Global Warming Denier". It marked a clear turning point in the talk. Up to that point, I had little to say about his talk, good or bad, except that he was obviously a skilled presenter. Afterwards, my antennae were twitching. His apparent umbrage that fundamentalists would reject the historical-critical method seemed odd to me. It seemed sort-of out-of-date

I'm not a professional exegete. I have one scant knowledge of the limits and benefits of the historical-critical method. I only know that it, like all human endeavors, can be taken to far. In the case of the historical-critical method, that involves erasing the spiritual nature of the Bible stories in the search for context. Caution flags have been raised by no less than our current Pope, Benedict XVI.

He expressed at the end of class a fondness for the NAB translation, which makes him the one and only person I've ever met to do so, as well as the Catholic Study Bible. The Catholic Study Bible is based on the NAB and shares some liberal tendencies, from what I've read. For instance, there's skepticism that Matthew wrote the Gospel According to Matthew. There are other problematic footnotes.

After class, I asked the presenter what he thought of books like The Navarre Bible and the Ignatius Catholic Study Bible. He said that they tended to lack modern scholarship. That's a fair criticism, in the sense that additional archaeological evidence has cropped up in recent years that could usefully be included, such as the Dead Sea Scrolls which shed light on the Essenes who lived at the time of Jesus. However, the way he said it, he might as well have said that the Navarre Bible and it's ilk are "Pre-Vatican II".

So, I'm not sure what to think. My first reaction is to dismiss this person as a typical baby boomer. Historical Criticism of the Bible has been around for some time, but it's really a boomer phenomenon. Your typical boomer has little time for anything that happened before 1945 and will dismiss out of hand any suggestion that his generation might be wrong. However, this is a serious man, who's seriously studied the Bible, a lot more than I ever have or ever will. He is the head of a department in a University. I'm just a geek with a computer and a catechism. And yet, I feel a little uneasy about where he's going with this.

I'm sure his intention is to defend and uphold the Catholic Church, but I don't know.

Where God Is, part III

2009-12-28T19:04:00.003-06:00

So, I'm sitting in church one day, and it occurs to me: where am I? I can answer that question several ways.

I'm in a church building.
I'm in a city.
I'm with God.
I'm in God's house.
I'm on Earth.

But it occurred to me, that being in church, was a distinct location as well. In other words, there's a connection between my humble parish and the 2000 year history of Christ's Church on Earth. Somehow or another, I'm in proximity to the apostles, the fathers of the church, the popes, the saints and the sinners. All of that and more is present. And, most of all, I'm in close proximity to Jesus Himself.

I want to talk about that a little more. Jesus is clearly present in the tabernacle. I believe that with all my heart. Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. He is, as the prayer says, as present as He was in ancient Israel and as He is now, at the Right Hand of the Father. But the connection I felt was a little different from the Real Presence. It was as if I was able to walk with Him during His entire life.

Look at it this way. I know my wife pretty well. I've known here for many years, including when we were dating. However, there are many years where I didn't know her, and only have scraps of stories that she told me about her childhood and adult life before I met her. Indeed, she still has friends that I've never met. But, I do know her hometown. So, I can extrapolate a little and put some pieces together. When she says she went to such-and-such a place when she was in high school, I know that place, and I know what it was like. Chances are, I went there in high school myself. She doesn't need to tell me everything, because I know a lot of it already. So, in a sense, I can pick up clues to what her life was like before she met me just by being around her old haunts.

Now, I love my wife and I value all the time that I spend with her. But knowing a bit more about her childhood, being able to see the places she grew up and having an understanding of the time and place, gives a new dimension to our relationship. It doesn't substitute for her physical presence today, but it adds depth. So, in the same way, getting a feel for the life of Jesus doesn't substitute for the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist, but it adds depth to the experience.

Now, in a church with all the statues and stained glass, and stations of the cross, and manger scenes, and chant and meditative prayer, it seems that you can gain insight to the life of Jesus just by being there. You can absorb it, if you will. I mentioned in an earlier post that listening to a symphony was more immersive than watching it because the sense that is most at work is, obviously, your sense of sound. I don't know the word for the sense of your soul, but being in a church that's done right can clearly allow for an immersive experience.

It seems to me that beyond the aesthetic qualities of the place, some sort of meditative exercises are necessary. Perhaps the rosary with it's meditation on the mysteries. Perhaps the Divine Office. Perhaps reading scripture. Perhaps just walking and contemplating the images that are present. Perhaps all of that, but at different times.

It seems to me that the local parish should try to facilitate that. It should have some educational and inspirational artwork. It should have scenes from the life of Jesus, including the Stations of the Cross so a person can "walk" with Jesus. The liturgy should directly bring people close to the life of Jesus.

Just as a TV show of an orchestra seems, to me, to be less satisfying and romantic than a radio presentation because the visuals distract you from the sound (which is the most important), the liturgy and the building can be a distraction from concentrating on Jesus. It can be too noisy, or too busy, or too fussy and just-so. Or it can actually direct attention away from Jesus and towards something else.

Put that way, plain-box, off-white, modernist church buildings seem to be just the thing. But you don't heighten your appreciation of a symphony by eliminating some of the instruments. You need a certain amount of richness to make a worthwhile experience.

I don't know if that makes sense. Certainly this isn't specific enough to be a prescription of what to do.

Where God Is, part IIb

2009-12-28T18:28:00.002-06:00

In my last missive, I talked about being immersed in a scene. My point, if I had one at all, was that different senses come in to play in an immersive environment.

I just want to add a quick note about that. One of the things that I noticed at the Latin Mass, and also at the Byzantine Divine Liturgy, is a curious aspect of the chant. It's ethereal, and seems to come from the walls themselves. In fact, for whatever reason, the schola at the TLM tend to stand in the back of the sanctuary, around the organ facing each other, when they sing. So they are the antithesis of the choir at and OF Mass, standing in a place of prominence facing the congregation, so to be better heard. Granted, the little sanctuary used by Mater Dei or St Basil the great, aren't a quarter of the size that you'd find in one of these big-box churches in Dallas, so acoustics is of little concern.

It's curious to me, but it's true. If the schola sings polyphony, the sound seems to come from a definite location, but if they are singing plainchant, it seems disconnected from any location. And that's more immersive, to be sure. The Byzantine Rite uses chant as well, but there the effect is somewhat different because the entire congregation sings the chant, often with a single cantor warbling away up front for those who are a little iffy on the tune ("tone" actually). So in that sense, it's not quite as ethereal.

How I got to be the Catholic that I am

2009-12-26T15:39:00.002-06:00

I was raised in a fairly secular setting. My parents were very devout Catholics in those years (my mother still is, my father passed away and is currently praising God in a more perfect manner), but they were an exception. I've read the curious phrase "cultural Catholic" and after some reflection I believe this fairly summarizes the area where I grew up. Catholic life was all around: Advent Wreaths, Forty Hours, Church Festivals, statues of Mary and the saints, but little internal faith. Going to Church on Sunday was enough and you had to have an excuse if you did more.

Maybe it wasn't all as bad as that, but that's what I remember. For many years, I was at best a lukewarm Catholic, bordering on a fallen away Catholic. There were things that happened which I will never discuss publicly which confirmed me in my lack of faith, but I could never bring myself to leave.

As an ironic twist of fate, I submit something that happened after a few years in the wilderness. I developed an internal theory of leadership. My theory is that good leaders have to be able to set good goals. I work at a manufacturing site. We typically run 90% to 100% of our stated capacity. So, if our manager set a goal to increase our capacity by 100% without any expansion in equipment or people, that plan would be dead on arrival: it simply can't be done. Conversely if he set a goal of increasing our capacity by 1%, it'd be equally meaningless: that's within the normal monthly fluctuation and probably couldn't be measured. But perhaps a goal of 15% is just right: it's ALMOST possible, and it would motivate people to work harder and be creative and, in the end, is probably achievable.

Extend that out, and it seems possible to get greater gains that would be otherwise achievable. To use the example above, if you wanted a 25% increase, that would likely fall into the "impossible" category above, but a 15% increase followed by another 10-15% increase might be work. In the end you could have a greater increase in productivity than you set out for, just by cleverly picking your goals.

I thought it was brilliant. What I didn't realize at the time was that God was using the exact same procedure on me. He had to start small. The first ALMOST achievable goal was to get to Mass every Sunday. I'd heard a falsehood, from someone I respected, that you could miss one mass a month and still be in compliance with the Sunday obligation. And I took full advantage of that for years. The next ALMOST achievable goal was to not leave after Communion. Those are modest goals, but that's all that could be achieved with the meager resources available.

So, after a while at the new baseline level of performance, it was necessary to bring in reinforcements. I found out that a guy at work was Catholic. This gave me someone to talk to about the Catholic faith. That's something I'd never done in my life. Where I grew up everyone was Catholic, German and equally "cultural" as described above. In that environment, you don't talk about the faith. It's like expecting fish to talk about being wet. You obliquely talk about it: you might talk about the Church specifically (the pastor or the finances or the building) or the school, especially the sports program. And if there's any hint of gossip or scandal you talk that up all day long. But discussions of the creed or of homoousion is rarely to be heard.

Shortly after that discovery, I started listening to EWTN radio. God used my own management strategy on me there as well. First off, I listened to Catholic Answers (only). Then I'd listen to another show, then another and finally I never listened to anything else. Then I started watching EWTN on TV. I'd watch Fr. Corapi, then Web of Faith, then Fr Pacwa, then I'd get tired of Fr Corapi's bombast and BS and watch Fr Groeschel. And so it went.

Along the way, I read a lot, listened to a lot and discovered the TLM Mass, which blew the doors off the whole thing. Had someone told me ten years ago that people wear a tie and get to Mass a half-hour ahead of time, fumble through responses in Latin and stay 5-10 minutes afterwards in thanksgiving for the Mass, I'd have assumed they were snake handlers or some similar brand of religious freaks. And yet, now I do it as often as I can.

I only just realized a few months ago that God was using my own technique on me. It is brilliant.

So that's it in a nutshell. Nick, if you're reading this, thanks for your help along the way.

Where God Is, part IIa

2009-12-21T21:46:00.002-06:00

Following on to yesterday's post, I remembered a story I read once in a James Herriot novel, probably All Creatures Great and Small or possibly All Things Bright and Beautiful. James Herriot was a country vet in the Yorkshire area during the 1930's and 1940's. One time he had to call on a farm house to treat a sick cow on Christmas Day. After he was finished, he went into the house to speak with the farmer and he found the farmer and his wife sitting in their living room listening to a performance of the London Philharmonic, or some other worthy orchestra, broadcast live on the radio. The husband and wife had a happy expression on their faces and James Herriot was struck by the miracle of modern technology that enabled this humble pair to share in the splendor of the London symphony.

There's something romantic about that, sitting around the fire listening to a broadcast from far away. All the comforts of home and yet the imagination can take you to another world. I've never been to England, and certainly have no concept of Yorkshire, but Herriot's books describe it as a rough and poor area. Perhaps the residents of Herriot's time didn't get away that often for a vacation or holiday, but for an hour or two this couple was with the aristocracy in London.

Now, why isn't the same sense of romance attached to the idea of watching a symphony on TV? For some reason, listening to a symphony is poetic and fantastic, but watching a symphony is bland and dull. Is it just a matter of time? The symphony itself is passe in the 21st century, while it was the height of culture in the early 20th century? That's possible, but it seems that there's something more to it. Sometime to do with the human senses.

The symphony is mostly an aural experience. There's little additional data to be had by viewing the orchestra. All orchestras look the same, in their black tuxedos and dresses. And so, listening to an orchestra on the radio is somewhat immersive, in the sense that counts. It's possible to gaze abstractly at the dining room table and still be immersed in the sound of the orchestra. However, watching the orchestra on a box is somewhat different. Now the eye is attracted by movement, different angles that the director chooses, as well as the physical attributes of the TV. But all the extra sensory input from watching an orchestra actually is a diversion from the sensory input that counts: the sound.

Contrast that with being at the symphony. Here you clearly have visual input, but it's a little more controlled. Your position relative to the orchestra is fixed unless you're walking around. Furthermore, you can look at whatever you'd like, not whatever the director thinks you should be looking at. Again, you have the option of gazing abstractly at something (or possibly someone, depending on the choice of evening gown) while the sound washes over you.

What does this have to do with my little story about the role of a local Parish? It's a bit of a side topic. The Parish enables you to be immersed in the life of Jesus. I'm getting a little closer to what I mean by all this. But it's not quite ready yet.

Where God Is, part II

2009-12-20T21:04:00.003-06:00

Today at the Mater Dei Latin Mass, a thought that has been rumbling around in the back of my head struck me again. I don't know if I have it all figured out, but there's something about the Church that is ... unexpected. Something I'd never really thought about before.

I first started thinking about this with my earlier post on Where God Is. In that post, I tried to make a claim that the church building is unique in that it's a place where God can definitively be found. Perhaps I downplayed the notion in that article that God is, in fact, everywhere and we can converse with Him wherever we may be. But my claim of the locality of God within the Church walls stands.

I have an old Missal that describes the Church year in something like the following words: "Every day, the altar becomes a small corner of Palestine and we are witnesses to Jesus' public ministry." That line about "a small corner of Palestine" came to mind today. I considered that the parish church is truly a gift from God, which allows people to get to know Him. By following the readings from the Church's calendar, the faithful follow along with the life of Jesus. By walking the Stations of the Cross, the faithful trace the steps of the Via Dolorosa (that particularly came to me today, although the temporary sanctuary doesn't have the Stations of the Cross up). By contemplating worthy artwork, the faithful can be reminded of the lives of Jesus and the apostles.

(As an aside, the Mater Dei church apparently has a "vestibule". I haven't heard that word in over 10 years, but for my whole life that's all I ever heard. At my parish it's called the "narthex".)

One of the things that happened today at the Latin Mass was something that I see far too little. The priest pointed at various objects to make a point. When he mentioned Jesus' Sacred Heart, he pointed to a picture of the Sacred Heart. When he mentioned Jesus, he pointed to the Tabernacle. The visual reinforcement is powerful. It seemed transcendent in a way. Like the Church was making available all the treasures which Jesus Himself entrusted to His Church on earth.

I know I'm far from the first person to describe a church building as the House of God, but I don't hear that too often anymore. Anymore, churches are more about the community: activities, personalities, schedules and, my personal favorite, "resources". Devotions are private things the people can do, and others will leave them alone to do them, but won't necessarily join. And yet God is there. And the Church has a structured way of revealing His presence. And maybe all these activities and resources get in the way.

That's where I'm running out of words for this. The Church, by which I mean the Catholic Church -- the mystical Body of Christ -- is doing something to bring Jesus to the faithful, and it has something to do with the local parish and the public worship and private devotions, but I'm having a hard time formulating what I mean. Certainly it's the sacraments and Jesus in the tabernacle, but there are additional aspects. There's a key to that which I sense is missing in my own parish, but I can't put my finger on what it is, or if it's something the local parish is doing, or something I'm doing.

Mater Dei's new Church Building in Dallas

2009-12-20T11:59:00.002-06:00

I had a "day off" from RCIA today so I decided to take in a Latin Mass. I've had a couple unhappy experiences where I drove all the way over to the Carmelite chapel only to find a note on the door that the Latin Mass was canceled for some reason, so I've gotten in the habit of checking their webpage first. So, last night I pulled up their website and found that they'd moved to their new building!

The building isn't renovated yet, so they have a temporary setup in the hall, complete with a basic altar, communion rails, some relics in reliquaries and a few paintings around the altar. Very simple. The address is 2030 E. Hwy 356 in Irving. If you Google that, you'll find references to that as a former Korean Baptist Church, and indeed one of the cornerstones in the building had Korean writing on it.

The new church looks to be almost twice the size as the old Carmelite chapel (at least the temporary set up in the hall) and it's still not big enough. Deo Gratias for the popularity of this Latin Mass! Maybe we'll get some more.

I'm still feeling a bit jealous of Irving. They get the Latin Mass and the Byzantine Catholic Divine Liturgy. How about those of us on this side of town?

Salt of the Earth

2009-12-13T21:41:00.003-06:00

I'm almost done with Salt of the Earth, a book-long interview with Cardinal Ratzinger from the late 1990s. It's OK, brilliant in parts and dull in other parts, but it has a few interesting qualities.

1. The interviewer is a fallen-away Catholic, and so it's probably not surprising that most of his questions are of a negative sort. "Why has the Church failed in this way or that way?" for instance. And yet, there's something behind the questions. The author, Peter Seewald, clearly has thought about these issues. It's obvious from the questions that he wants to believe, but presently can't. He wants the Church to succeed, but can't see how that will ever happen. In short, he's in a dark place and wants out but can't find the door.

It's a stark and personal image. It is, frankly, a little awkward at points. It's not like listening into someone's confession: Peter Seewald rarely refers to himself. It's more like listening into an entire degenerate society's public confession. It reveals more about the interviewer than the interviewee, in some cases.

2. The book possesses a strange fixation with the millennium that seems quaint today. As if all morality would change on 1/1/2000. Of course, I remember that and was a little wrapped up in it myself. However, with the benefit of hindsight, it seems like arrogant preening to think that our generation is going to change the world by virtue of the fact that we happen to live on the eve of an arbitrary change in digits on the calendar.

In general, I was impressed with the preparation in this book. The description is that the interview took place over a long weekend. However, each question is peppered with references from Popes, Doctors of the Church, philosophers, scientists, authors and so on. Some are famous and some are rather obscure (possibly they are famous in Germany). It's often the impression that reporters are stupid, ignorant, uneducated and immoral fools with addictions to sex, alcohol and drugs (when they can afford them) and that's speaking of the respectable ones on TV. However, here's a reporter who must have spent weeks if not months researching his questions ahead of time. Since the book is in a simple question and answer format, the impression is that Ratzinger responded to these obscurities immediately, though it's possible he could have taken a break to think about it. There are also what I'd have to refer to as "slap-downs" when the questions become too extravagant.

Peter Seewald has since returned to the faith and wrote another book-length interview with the cardinal called "God and the World" and also a biography called "Benedict XVI". A remarkable example of God working in mysterious ways.

I'll try to post some salient excerpts in the next few days.

St Mary the Virgin, Arlington, TX

2009-11-29T14:15:00.008-06:00

Ever since the Vatican announced a new provision for the TAC to enter the Catholic Church as a unit, with their priests and liturgy (see the redoubtable Fr Longenecker's posts for more details), I've been itching to see what such a liturgy would look like. I've long known that there was an Anglican Use parish in San Antonio, which I suspect will be similar to the new personal ordinariates, but that's way too far away. Imagine my delight, then, when I discovered that there's an Anglican Use parish, St. Mary the Virgin, in Arlington, TX.

A quick note about this parish. In 1980, Pope John Paul II set up the Pastoral Provision allowing former Episcopal Priests to come in to the Catholic Church and, after a sort-of "fast track" ordination, serve as Priests in the Catholic Church. Fr. Longenecker, linked above, is himself a Catholic Priest who made use of the Pastoral Provision. These former Episcopal priests can be married (Fr. Longenecker is married and has a stable of children). Furthermore, the Anglican Use liturgy was setup, which is an approved form of the Anglican worship books.

The difference between the Personal Ordinariates announced by Benedict XVI and the Anligcan Use provision, from what I understand, is that the Anglican Use provision is really an American thing, and also that the Anglican Use parishes are under the authority of the local diocese (in this case, Bishop Kevin Vann in Fort Worth) while the Personal Ordinariates are outside the jurisdiction of the local Bishops.

So today I drove over to Arlington to see what was all about. The first thing that greeted me was a sign over the door to the main church telling me to be quiet and to genuflect in front of the tabernacle. I wish ALL Catholic churches had this at the door. It reminds the faithful where they are, and is helpful for non-Catholics who are visiting with friends or family.

That being said, it wasn't entirely effective. I was chatted up by a friendly old woman before Mass who saw me snapping pictures. I felt awkward talking to her after commenting favorably on the sign, but there it is.

Looking at pictures from their website, I somewhat expected an English-language TLM. Indeed, the altar is a high altar against the wall and the liturgy is celebrated ad orientum. There is a communion rail, complete with a door, that separates the sanctuary from the nave. The Mass was, generally speaking, sung or chanted by the Priest. Communion is received kneeling at the rail, on the tongue. There were no women in the sanctuary during the Mass. There were no altar girls and the readings were read from a lectern in the sanctuary by men.

The Mass started with a Litany (which is definitely not part of the Ordinary Form) then went into a penitential rite unlike any other I've seen. The readings were the same as those in the OF for today. An interesting twist was that the Gospel was proclaimed by the priest in the nave of the Church, right in front of the pulpit. Standing with him were the servers and acolytes (and possibly a deacon) with a censer. After the Gospel, the priest took his place at the pulpit and was censed one last time before starting the homily.

It was a good homily.

After the Gospel, the Creed was sung in Latin, which was the same Credo that I'm used to singing at the Extraordinary Form Mass that I attend at the Carmelite Chapel. As I was following along in the Book of Divine Worship, I noticed that the creed they use has the formulation "of the same substance" instead of "one in being with" in the current Nicene Creed, but also different from "consubstantial". Regardless, I didn't get to say it in English, Bishop Trautman can rest easy for another day.

The petitions were mostly standard, as printed in the BDW. There were some obvious variations, such as adding the names of the sick and deceased, and a couple of extra petitions for local needs, but mostly it was as printed, which I'd like to see more of.

After that, it was pretty much the same as a Novus Ordo mass. I got the feeling that this was what the Novus Ordo mass was supposed to be like, except for the litany in the beginning and the penitential rite. It was very recognizable after the petitions were over. My early assumptions that it'd be like an English-language TLM were incorrect.

One note about Communion: I've been to I don't know how many Extraordinary Form masses where I've received on the tongue while kneeling, but it wasn't today until I realized how natural that is. When I'm at my OF parish, and therefore standing in front of the priest, I often feel like I'm sticking my tongue out for the doctor. But with the priest holding the Host somewhat above my head it seems very natural for him to place it on my tongue.

The parish seemed to have a couple hundred parishioners including, I should note, David Palmer who's the General Manager of the local Catholic radio station.

In the back of the Church was what appears to be a columbarium with the cremains of the departed parishioners. Having the cremains in the Church building itself added a sense of gravity to the service and made the prayers for those who had died the past week more poignant. It was a great honor in centuries past to be buried in a major cathedral, and I can understand how being in a Church where countless masses are said in front of your remains will be a awesome thing. But I'm not sure I'd do that. I still prefer burial, whenever I think of it (which I don't, at least not very often).

On Father Longenecker's blog and other places, I'd heard over and over again and the "lovely liturgies" of the Anglicans and so I was somewhat looking forward to that, but overall was disappointed. The music was very traditional (it seemed) with no traces of Glory and Praise or the Mass of Creation but I found it difficult to sing and not much to listen to. Before Mass, the organist was warming up and it was truly "lovely" but during Mass itself it was typical of "bad" organ music: overpowering with harmonics overwhelming the melody and overwhelming the choir so it was impossible to tell what the melody was. The choir wasn't bad, per se, but not "lovely".

However, setting the music aside, I'd be very happy if Masses were held like this in more places.

As long as I'm singin'

2009-11-27T09:51:00.003-06:00

As we were driving home from our Traditional Thanksgiving last night, I thought mometarily about my unnamed former parish. My wife and I were in the choir there for some years until the choir broke up in a fit of political intrigue between the pastor and music director, which is not germane to the point of this blog. The salient fact is that the music director left the parish -- gone! -- and the members of the choir carried on for some months until eventually the whole thing dissolved due to a lack of leadership. During that brief period of open-source musicianship the parish invited a consultant in from Chicago to assess the music in the liturgy.

At the time, the church was firmly in the grip of Marty Haugan and David Haas. Our songbooks were Worship I and Worship II and we sang a rousing selection every week. I don't remember exactly what the consultant said about our music (I heard about it only 2nd and 3rd hand) but I do remember almost universal indignation that a consultant was coming in to tell us how to sing. US! The ones laboring on our own with no leadership, no help and apparently no gratitude. US! How dare they!

In the end, I'm not sure anything ever came of that. Our little choir broke up and a new musician was hired who had a voice somewhat worse than nails on a blackboard who almost did drive us out of that parish (if we didn't move first). Whether she acted on the recommendations is impossible to say.

In traditional Catholic circles, there's a clear desire to wipe out all traces of modern music. I've even made fun it of, myself. But clearly the people involved are doing what they think is right and they are filling a need. If my old parish is any example, the pastor never really gives any guidance to what he'd like, except on rare occasions to the music director. Everyone's a volunteer, except for one professional musician. Since they look around every week and no one else is coming forward to take over, they tend to think that the parish needs them due to it's own sloth. Volunteers tend to get the idea their "customers" aren't paying for the services, they have no right to complain.

So, what happens if the pastor decides to change music? Out with the guitars and Mass of New Creation and in with something more traditional? Most likely a large percentage of the choir will simply leave the parish, if it's not handled correctly. How do you do it? You have a group of 10 or 20 people used to singing 4-part harmony and you try to impose Gregorian Chant or Polyphony, each one of which is somewhat unforgiving of off-key amateur talent. Most likely someone would set up a separate schola for that, but as soon as that happens there's tension between those two groups. It's a mess.

Maybe if you're going to do that you just rip the bandage off and replace the old music director with a new one and let the people get over it. Maybe you phase it in with lots of meetings and training.

Of course, the most popular option is "none of the above" and nothing changes. The liberals become the conservatives, unwilling to change, and the conservatives become liberal, itching for change.

More about CCHD

2009-11-23T18:18:00.002-06:00

Father Powell has a good point about the complicated problems with CCHD funding. Another complication is what about groups that are co-funded by objectionable groups? If CCHD gives money to a community revitalization group and that group also receives money from Planned Parenthood, is that a problem? What if the group has nothing whatsoever to do with Planned Parenthood's services, but it's possible that the group will include a "women's health clinic" in a future urban renewal project. Should that be a concern?

Honestly, I don't know. You'd like to think that helping the poor is uncomplicated and such issues are needless distractions, but I can see how seeing the Catholic Campaign for Human Development and Planned Parenthood together on a donor list could be a problem.

The Real Presence

2009-11-21T20:21:00.000-06:00

From Monsignor Pope.

Catholic Life and Notre Dame

2009-11-21T08:56:00.002-06:00

In this article, young David Hartline laid out the claim that the Tide was Turning Toward Catholicism. He would later expand that into a book. In the article, he seems to draw inspiration from coach Charlie Weiss' first season at Notre Dame when the football team shocked everyone after years of decline by finishing 9-3 and placing 9th in the final poll. The recovery of the football team was a metaphor for the recovery of the church at large.

Coincidentally, that was the first year that Fr. John Jenkins was president of the university.

Ah, the blind optimism of youth.

Things didn't stay so rosy at ND for long. Fr Jenkins has endorsed The Vagina Monologues on campus, Planned Parenthood routinely has a booth at "volunteer day", the university pays the transportation for gay students to attend gay marriage rallies and, most famously, the university gave an honorary degree to the most pro-abortion president in US history.

In the sports arena, things aren't any better. Charlie Weiss has the same record (as a percentage) as his two predecessors who were both fired. His vaunted recruiting class his first year at ND has the worst combined 4 year record in recent history. In a word, his football team sucks. People have even used him as an excuse to paint ND as racist. Since he's a white guy with the same record as the black guy before him, and since the black guy was fired but the fat white guy was not, questions are raised.

So is ND still a metaphor for the Church at large? Well, vocations are still up, a little. The US Bishops seem to actually care about Church Teaching for the first time that I can remember, and the Pope seems to enjoy a measure of popularity above what you'd expect given the rough treatment he's gotten in the press at times. You do hear about occasional Catholic politicians who actually seem to believe what the Church teaches.

So with all that, why does Notre Dame's football team smell so much? Does the football team's record correlate to Catholic fidelity at ND? I don't know if there's any way to determine that. I'm not sure ND was any more faithful during the Lou Holtz years. But it does seem to indicate God has a wry sense of humor.

Thoughts from the Bishops' meeting -- Translations

2009-11-20T21:04:00.003-06:00

I'm going to take flack for this, but I'm not entirely fond of the new missal translations. I'm not really opposed to them, but I know it's going to be hard to learn the new prayers, and I wonder how long it will be where people are mumbling both the old and new translation in a confusing cacophony.

That being said, I can understand how Bishops aren't looking forward to the new translation, but I don't agree with Bishop Trautman's stand on the issue. He has made no bones about his intention to derail the translations and has apparently settled on the antiphons as the area of attack. However, his main complaint this time around was only partially that the translations are bad. His major complaint was that the Bishops' Conference was not consulted on the antiphons. To hear him talk, it was easy to come away with the idea that he objects to Rome acting unilaterally with regard to the translation, but he's fine with acting unilaterally himself in holding them up.

That's rank hypocrisy and is typical of bureaucrats with an over-inflated sense of importance. You have all the elements: a functionary with a relatively obscure specialty (translating from Latin into English) focusing on a minor detail (antiphons, which are hardly ever recited) and obsessing over it in an unseemly manner. Bishop Trautman complained about the antiphons in at least 4 different agenda items, none of which technically dealt with antiphons. He was, in short, filibustering the meeting as a way of delaying the vote on the translations.

This may seem like childish behavior and unbecoming of a successor of the Apostles, but it is directly from Jesus' commission to the Apostles in the Gospel: "Go into the world and filibuster a meeting of a national conference that has little canonical standing by raising pointless objections to unrelated issues in a petulant, childish and unbecoming manner so that you can get your own way, all the while complaining about unilateral action by the people I put in charge of the whole shebang."

Disgraceful.

Thoughts from the Bishops' meeting -- Reproduction

2009-11-20T20:59:00.003-06:00

I watched some of the USCCB meeting last week on the interweb and just saw the highlights on Raymond Arroyo's EWTN show. He was talking about the document issued on reproductive technology. The Bishop who headed that committee said they spent 5 years on the document and hope it will be useful for pastors to instruct the faithful. That's directly from Jesus' commission to the Apostles in the Gospels: "Go into the world and spend 5 years in a committee creating a document you hope pastors will find helpful as they instruct the faithful."

I'm reading it now and it's actually not bad at all. It's written in regular English, with the proper number of nouns and verbs, and mostly in the correct order, and with no weasel words. I wish it'd come out a decade or two ago, but what can you do?

Where God Is

2009-11-18T20:34:00.002-06:00

First: I know: since I "quit" blogging, I've been blogging more than ever. Actually, having quit, I feel strangely free to write whatever I want.

Just read a review of the new(ish) Cathedral in Oakland in Sacred Architecture. Generally, it's pretty negative in tone, depicting the cathedral as looking "unfinished" and sterile and somewhat cold. Reading the article, I thought about some of the different Churches I've been in, Eastern and Western, and the piety I found there.

I visited Good Shepherd in Garland, TX, one dreary day. It's a humble parish in a poor, working class, part of town. While I was inside praying a man came in and knelt on the steps leading to the altar, spread his arms and began to pray in obvious emotion. His prayer was a bit above a mumble, and as it was around noon on a Saturday and he and I were the only ones there, I could definitely hear him, though I couldn't understand him (Good Shepherd is in a Hispanic neighborhood and I no hable espanol too goodo). Perhaps his wife was sick, or his child, or he lost his job. He wept and moaned in an unselfconscious manner and I couldn't help but pray for him. I hope he found relief from his sorrow.

Why did he come to Good Shepherd? Because God is there.

One time I was at St. Basil in Irving and I watched people file in and stand before various icons and pray. They lit candles, kissed the icons and bowed. Then they took there seats and waited for Divine Liturgy to start. The walls were lit with candles and tapers hung out of the little sand holders at crazy angles and the sense of devotion was almost palpable. The icons were often smudged with lipstick from where women (I assume!) kissed them and young and old alike were there. Young women prayed in front of the Theotokos, possibly praying for love, or for strength to resist the slutification of the world, or praying for help with homework at school. Old men, with practiced grace, and as if talking to long-time friends, touched the faces on the walls and prayed their private prayers.

Why did they come to St. Basil? Because God is there.

The thought actually occured to me when I was trying to understand the meaning of icons in the Eastern Churches that the Church provides access to God in a way I hadn't thought of before. Icons are a window into heaven, which means that when you go where the icons are, you are in at least visual contact with the Kingdom of God. That is, you can see it. It's there. You can point to it.

All the pantheistic notions we hear from the New Agers really don't compare. "God is everywhere" doesn't have the same punch as "God is here." If God is everywhere, what do we do with that? If God is down the street at the corner Church, we can visit and talk.

Now, back to Oakland. Is God there? Of course He is, but looking at the pictures, it's hard to say. The design is plainly modernistic, with a focus on light and architectural finesse. It somewhat remind me of the decadent age of Jazz in the 1960s and 1970s when Jazz musicians were essentially performing for other Jazz musicians and so were basically just giving a recital to demonstrate their mastery of fingering exercises. Actually playing entertaining music was beneath them.

The ethereal Christ Pantocrator behind the altar is a strange mix of devotion and artistic skill and nerdy "check this out!" I can't decide if I like it. Probably photos don't do it justice.

Of course, Good Shephard holds 200 to 300 people and St. Basil probably tops out at 120. The Oakland Cathedral might hold that many people in the gift shop. It's much different when building a structure for 1000 people or more, and intimacy can be lost. But the Dallas Cathedral and others that I've seen on EWTN manage to look "churchy" while packing them in.

The CCHD Kerfuffle

2009-11-17T21:37:00.002-06:00

Just watched Bishop Morin's defense of CCHD at the USCCB meeting. His message is basically "Stop complaining! We're not doing anything wrong!"

Here's how it works, according to a conversation I had with the local CCHD office.

Step 1: The local office recommends a group to the national organization.
Step 2: The national office investigates, approves and sends the recommendation to the local Bishop.
Step 3: The local Bishop approves the funds and the checks are mailed out.

Note that the local office is likely appointed by the local bishop, unless he is brand new at the diocese and is inheriting the previous bishop's staff. So, really CCHD comes down to how much you trust your bishop. If your bishop lives in California, it's likely your local CCHD is going to support groups that go against Church teaching. If your Bishop is named "Chaput" then it's likely your local CCHD will support groups that do not go against Church teaching.

There are news stories about bishops who've canceled the special collection. Those bishops are abdicating their responsibilities. They are basically saying "I can't help myself: stop me before I undermine Catholic teaching again."

There's an additional wrinkle, however. The national CCHD office redistributes the money as they see fit, based on input from the local offices. That means that an individual diocese may receive more money than they contribute, or less. That means that Archbishop Chaput's flock may end up supporting Archbishop Niederaur's gay-rights activists, or Cardinal Mahony's pro-abortion activists. At least to some extent due to the dilution of the money.

I've never supported CCHD. It wasn't out of pricinpals: I didn't even know who they are until a couple of years ago. So it means nothing for me to say I won't support them this year. But I won't.

I know that mistakes are made, and that I can't do anything about bishops in California or Boston. However, I do have a complaint about the types of groups they support. Most of the organizations are "community organizers". In Dallas, one of the groups is Dallas Area Interfaith, which is a branch of the Industrial Areas Foundation, the group started by Saul Alinski. As much research as I could do turned up nothing explicitly anti-Catholic about either organization, but I wonder how much they help the poor.

The IAF's aim is to teach people how to get stuff from the city. More cops on the street, clean up abandoned buildings, fix potholes and broken traffic lights. Better code enforcement, and so on. Note that the DAI or IAF doesn't do these things themselves: they don't lobby city hall on their own. They merely show local citizens how to do it.

Maybe I'm naive, but I find it hard to believe that there's enough need for such training to fully staff a local office every day of the year. It seems like after you've trained a few dozen community leaders, they can take care of themselves. If they provided legal assistance, fund-raising expertise, or some other ongoing service, I could see it.

By contrast, the other group funded by the Dallas CCHD is Texas Tenants Union. This group helps people get their landlords to keep the property maintained. Every year there are news stories about inner city apartment buildings with broken A/C or no running water in the dead of summer. That's a useful service, and seems worth supporting. But, try as I might I can't figure out how DAI deserves any money at all.

That's what I think, anyway.

What I heard at RCIA today

2009-11-15T19:43:00.001-06:00

Starting in December, new RCIA candidates and catechumens are expected to be in the process for 2 years. Currently there's no set timeframe, but it generally takes about a year at my parish. Yikes. We'll need a bigger room.

The Bishop is putting his mark on the Diocese.

Something Creepy here

2009-11-14T21:48:00.003-06:00

In the 1980's Blue Oyster Cult released an album called "Imaginos". It wasn't much of a commercial success, but has a very loyal following. To say that I enjoyed that album is to engage is careless understatement. I probably wore out 4 cassette tapes listening to it in my car over the course of a year. If I recall correctly, I quit listening to it because it became hard to find (it never really sold well, and BOC broke up afterwards).

Imaginos was a concept album that dealt with a group of supernatural beings called "Los Invisibles" who manipulated human history as a game or sport. "Imaginos" was the name of their human agent. Reading about this recently on the web, there's some controversy whether Imaginos could travel in time, but I never had any doubts about that. If I recall, it was printed right on the liner notes. There were several "experimental" aspects to the album: the songs were out of order (reflecting the time travel motif) and one song was written in prose. It was similar to if you read this paragraph in a sing-song kind of voice with rhythm but no rhyme. There's also a snappy little song called "The Seige and Investiture of Baron Von Frankenstein's Castle at Wisteria". Fans of Blue Oyster Cult will also be interested to note that their classic Astronomy appeared on this album, and was apparently written for this album (Imaginos was in progress for over a decade). The rendition is unique and, I think, the best of all.

The album Imaginos was not, stricly speaking, satanic, in the sense that these supernatural beings didn't seem to be aligned one way or the other, but it was definitely creepy. It came out in the late summer and I clearly remember listening to it in the car at night around Halloween and I had to stop the tape because I was getting a little freaked out. If I remember I actually threw the tape in the backseat and, had the weather been warmer and the windows were down, I might have threw it away.

Thanks to YouTube, the tunes of Imaginos are readily available. Having forgotten almost completely about it, I listened to a few songs several weeks back. Big mistake. I couldn't get them out of my head and became convinced that either the songs were cursed or I had been cursed. Of course, the songs take me back to when I first heard them and everything that was going on then, good or bad, and that was weird enough. But it took almost a week to get to the point that I didn't feel like my personal demons were singing in my ears minute by minute. A week of listening to every wholesome song I know in an attempt to dislodge the asthmatic refrain "carpe diem" (for the record, Any Major Dude did the trick).

Father Corapi is fond of saying that the devil uses certain music to get to people, and that he was around when bands would curse their records before sending them out. But he was also around when John Belushi died, and when a teenage runaway turned up dead in a dumpster. The moral, I guess, is to be careful when Father Corapi is around. But listening to these old songs, I can believe what he's saying in this case. Now, I'm not saying that BOC specifically did something immoral to these songs. I'm not claiming there are backwards messages or subliminal messages (the overt message is quite enough, thank you). Nor am I claiming they recorded it on a pentagram. All I'm saying is that something's not right about it. There's something creepy about it and I have to respect my intuition.

A worship of decay

2009-11-14T21:29:00.003-06:00

In a fit of boredom, I was cleaning out a closet and found my copy of The Collected Works of GK Chesterton, volume 1, with Heretics and Orthodoxy. I'd read Heretics a year before and decided to give it a go again. The first chapter deals with The Negative Spirit, by which Chesterton means seeking to avoid punishment rather than striving for reward. Essentially, avoiding hell rather than shooting for heaven. He uses an example from his day where someone wanted to dissuade alcohol use not through appeals to morality or piety, but with images of diseases livers.

I remember when I was in high school watching public service announcements that showed what a smoker's lung looked like. So his ideas must have caught on.

It does seem to me that people find it hard to keep two thoughts in their head at the same time. If you tell someone "Good people go to heaven and bad people go to hell", they'll either remember the heaven or hell, but not both. You're either full of happy-clappy talk or you're a tub-thumping fire and brimstone preacher. Currently, I'm much more likely to hear the all-heaven-all-the-time sermon than the hell-is-real sermon. And yet, there's a distinct lack of balance if you only talk about heaven or only about hell. And I wonder if both are ultimately from the devil.

Consider, if you think only of heaven, then there's no sense of right or wrong. When your final day comes, presumably you'll see your life from God's point of view. If you've spent all your life thinking there's no right or wrong, what will you think then? Perhaps you'll decide that God's wrong and what He says is evil you say is good. Then it's the Down Escalator for you, I'm afraid.

And the fascination with failure is almost certainly demonic. For some reason the image of the cirrhotic liver hit me this time. Chesterton talked about it being on the altar in the place of the "perfect flesh" of the Eucharist. Here's the point: God alone can create. The devil can only destroy. So by focusing on destruction, even destruction due to the exercise of free will, it seems to me you're really focusing on the work of the devil. At that point the goal simply becomes to be less diseased than your peers, and at that point you've conceded defeat.

There's a recent news story about a (Muslim) soldier who shot up Fort Hood. The angst ridden press is full of compassion: He only did what he could under the circumstances. That's basically the same as saying that destruction and decay are an inevitable fact of life and it's just too bad that it happened this way, but not really surprising. That basically says that evil has complete control over our actions and while we can resist it for a little while, it's no use struggling too hard; it'll win over eventually.

No more blogging

2009-11-05T19:54:00.003-06:00

at least not here.

I thought I'd try to make it a full year, but starting a new job changed my mind about that. I never attracted an audience, so don't really feel an obligation to keep this going.

Hey. Blogger is free, so I might still use this as a notebook to work out some ideas and thoughts, but my slow trickle of posts is basically over for the forseeable future.

If anyone's reading this, so long!

More about the Deaconate

2009-10-24T10:50:00.003-05:00

When I was in Ohio in August for my nephew's going-away-to-the-Marines party, I happened to bump into a Permanent Deacon for the Diocese of Toledo. We chatted for a while about this and that and I told him that I'd made some tentative inquiries into the Permanent Deaconate myself, but had gotten nowhere. I should point out at this point that he lives in the city of Toledo, but we were talking in my hometown, which is approximately 100 miles away. This deacon was visiting the new priest at St. Johns, who is an old friend of his. He said I should push ahead: "What are the odds that I'd just happen to be here, 100 miles away from where I live, the same exact time that you're here, over 1000 miles away from where you live, talking to you about this?" And we both enjoy the Latin Mass (which he participatees in as a Deacon). The odds are pretty long, I'll admit.

So of course, I did nothing. But last week I found myself with nothing to do one afternoon so I called the diocesan office again. I'll bet I've called a half dozen times but always got no answer or a busy signal, to the point that I suspected the number on the website was wrong. I'd also sent emails with no response. But this time someone answered the phone and talked to me. The reason for no response soon became clear: the next class doesn't start until next year or the following year (it's so far out she wasn't even sure when it would be).

Who knows what things will be like then? There will be a new pastor at my parish, I may not be even attending that parish for that matter. For that matter, I may not be in the Diocese of Dallas at that time and my new Diocese may have a completely different schedule. It's frustrating, but I guess I can keep waiting. I am starting to get a better idea of what I'd do if I was a Deacon, so that's something at least.

Now, I'm not ready to buy a dalmatic just yet. I just saw a Mother Angelica episode where she described the slow pace of how they built the studio at EWTN. "God doesn't give you the whole building at once" she said. She got enough money one step at a time, never knowing when or if it would ever be finished, but always moving forward. Maybe a similar thing here?

Hear anything good for Respect Life Sunday?

2009-10-04T20:56:00.004-05:00

I didn't. The homily we heard was almost incoherent today; a jumble of random Bible verse citations and historical-critical exegesis. I gave up trying follow along 5 minutes into it and started humming Lamenta to myself. Whatever our priest was going on about, he was fired up about it, but his random bursts of enthusiasm, only served to make the mishmash that much more inscrutable. Even though I can't claim to have understood it all, there is no chance that he was talking about the value of life. None.

Last year I heard our deacon valiantly try to talk about abortion without actually saying the word abortion and since it was plainly hard to tell what he was talking about, it was also hard to discern what he thought of it, though perhaps he was displeased about some aspect of it, which he didn't care to elaborate on.

I kind of missed that, today.

The Second Best Prayer I've Ever Read

2009-10-04T20:25:00.003-05:00

Anyone who's read Pope Benedict XVI's discussion on the Our Father will recognize that it truly is the most perfect prayer, but I have a strong contender for second-place. I recently started reading The Life and Revelations of Anne Catherine Emmerich. As the author was preparing to write the book, he visited Anne Catherine Emmerich's hometown to get a feel for the kind of environment that she grew up in. The author writes

Early one morning, as I was passing along by a hedge, I heard a child's voice. I drew near softly and peeping over I saw a ragged girl about seven years old driving a flock of geese before her, a willow switch in her hand. With an inimitable accent of piety and innocence she exclaimed: "Good morning, dear Lord God! Praise be to Jesus Christ! Good Father, who art in heaven! Hail Mary, full of grace! I want to be good! I want to be pious! Dear saints of paradise, dear angels, I want to be good! I have a nice little piece of bread to eat, and I thank you for it. O watch over me! Let not my geese run into the wheat! Let no bad boy throw a stone and kill one! Watch over me, for I want to be a good girl, dear Father in heaven!'

I'm not sure St. Thomas Aquinas himself could improve on that. The structure of the prayer is obviously marked by a child-like rambling and simplistic nature, but even with that, it still follows the basic form of the prayers, as suggested by Jesus in the Gospels: praise God, give thanks and ask for what you need today (let tomorrow worry about itself).

Probably the world would be a better place if more people prayed like that.

Who says Catholics are Pro-Life?

2009-10-02T18:44:00.003-05:00

I'd no more than finished my story about visiting the White Rose when this came out. Support for abortion is down compared to years earlier. Great! But let's look a little closer at how Catholics voted.

Should abortion be legal? In 2007/2008, 53% of all Catholics said Yes, compared to 42% saying No. Now it's 45% to 45%. I've heard priests claim that they don't have to preach on abortion because everyone knows the Catholic Church is opposed to it. In fact 45% of Catholics know the Catholic Church is opposed to it.

So maybe a focus on banning abortion doesn't equal support. How about making it harder to get an abortion? Well, only 44% of Catholics support that, while 47% oppose it. That doesn't make sense to me, as apparently there's 1% of Catholics who'd like to make abortion illegal, but not in a way that will make it harder to get one.

On the plus side, fully 67% of Catholics think that it would be nice if there were fewer abortions while 25% disagree and a 8% are uncertain.

Oy.

The one where I visit a crisis pregnancy center

2009-10-01T21:50:00.003-05:00

Last weekend I had the chance to visit our local crisis pregnancy center. It is right next door to an abortion clinic. In fact, they have a chapel, with the Eucharist reserved, that looks right out over the abortion clinic.

I had a long talk with the director and it was an eye opening thing. I read things on the internet about how America is becoming more pro-life and how mean old politicians are trying to force abortion on an unsuspecting nation, but all those stories seem very abstract. Visiting this place and seeing what they contend with and seeing what they do to try to save lives is really something.

A story: in Dallas, there are no abortion clinics that perform late term abortions. There is, however, one in Houston. If a girl (and the director I talked to always said "girl" -- let's not forget who we're talking about) shows up to an abortion clinic and requests a late-term abortion, the clinic will refer her to Houston. If she can't pay for the trip or the procedure, no problem; there's a group of people who will pay for it. The director said she didn't know who they were, "they are really underground."

That phrase is still rattling in my brain. Fr Thomas Eutenauer has said over and over that there's a link between demonic activity and abortion. Some of his stories are beyond the pale. The actions of a secretive group that pays for late term abortions are surely evil. Now I'm not saying this underground group is a bunch of satanists or witches or any such thing, but it wouldn't be inconsistent if they were. Even mainstream abortion supporters are sickened by the idea of partial-birth abortions and wish it were banned. And yet here's a group of people who clearly feel otherwise. There's an old maxim in business: if you pay people for something, you'll get more of it. Do they want more dead babies?

In a way, it was distressing to talk to the people there. They have such a matter-of-fact knowledge of the enemy in this fight, and what they are up against, that it's hard to understand why they go on. I didn't notice a fire and zeal that you'd see if Father Eutenauer or Father Pavone. But on the other hand, it's a bit inspirational to talk to them because you see a gritty determination, like a mountain climber resolved to take the next peak, or a boxer resolved to win the fight.

They see 200 girls a month. Not all are considering abortion. Word gets around, and pregnant girls soon enough learn they can show up and get baby clothes and such for free. But the ones that they "convert" are precious. The girls get baby clothes, maternity clothes, strollers other supplies. They can bring the stuff back in three months and get clothes sized for the next three months and so on for the first year or two. There's lots of help and "you can get do this" type encouragement. Many of the girls have already had abortions, which is how the staff knows what's happening across the alley. Most of the girls show up because a friend told them, and Deo Gratias for friends that counsel life. One of the arguments against abortion is that it causes severe emotional and psychological problems. The director said that most girls can understand that God forgives them, but they can't forgive themselves.

Here's another story: I was 5 or 6 with the Roe vs Wade decision came down. Of course, I didn't know anything about it. But I remember going with my Mom into a drug store when she was out running errands and the store owner had a picture of a fetus in a garbage can in the window. I remember clearly that it was red (probably burned from the chemicals.) I have since figured out that she must have had that up as some sort of protest over the decision. But it freaked me out. I had nightmares about that, being a young child myself and worried that maybe I'd be thrown away like that. In fact, several years ago when that stupid dancing baby on Ally McBeal was all over the place, I couldn't quite watch it because it sort of reminded me of that picture. Indeed, even today, all these decades later, I still am a little sickened at the memory.

So abortion is a little difficult for me to think about. Maybe it's difficult for everyone to think about, and maybe that's why it's so prevalent. But abortion is disgusting, nasty, and evil business. Due to my queasiness (listed above) I didn't press for details when a staffer said that a client who'd previously had an abortion, described the recovery room as "Hell" and said if women saw that room first they'd never have the abortion done. The disregard for basic human dignity and health of the woman is probably a symptom of the disregard for human life (in general) that allows someone to work in such an industry.

Maybe that store owner shouldn't have had that picture up where kids could see it. And I don't know that adults need to see it either. But we need to figure out a way to talk about it. Maybe the women who've been through it, and who can find a way to forgive themselves and embrace life can help. I don't know how to break down that barrier, other than prayer. Maybe the priests should talk about it from the pulpit. I don't know, but something needs to change: the number of abortions every year has been fairly constant, so it doesn't seem that we're making much headway.

But there are things everyone can do. The White Rose needs money. They need volunteers and they need supplies, but they also need to pay the lease and upkeep for their building. It's 40 days for life: please consider donating. If you're outside of Dallas, find your local pro-life crisis pregnancy center and support them. Don't think CCHD or Catholic Charities will do it. Write the check. Do it yourself. Today. And write your Congressman and Senator and tell them that health care means extending life, not ending it. And pray, pray, pray! And if you know someone who's been through that, let him or her know (abortion affects the father, too) that while what they did was wrong, God loves them and they can save many lives by telling others what abortion is. Then drive them to the confessional if they haven't been (and if they are Catholic). Bad enough to lose a baby, at least save the parent's soul.

From tonights Apostle of Common Sense

2009-09-27T20:56:00.002-05:00

Haven't posted a Chesterton quote in a while. This was on tonight's Apostle of Common Sense on EWTN (courtesy of Ed Driscoll's blog).

A generation is now growing old, which never had anything to say for itself except that it was young. It was the first progressive generation - the first generation that believed in progress and nothing else…. [They believed] simply that the new thing is always better than the old thing; that the young man is always right and the old wrong. And now that they are old men themselves, they have naturally nothing whatever to say or do. Their only business in life was to be the rising generation knocking at the door. Now that they have got into the house, and have been accorded the seat of honour by the hearth, they have completely forgotten why they wanted to come in. The aged younger generation never knew why it knocked at the door; and the truth is that it only knocked at the door because it was shut. It had nothing to say; it had no message; it had no convictions to impart to anybody…. The old generation of rebels was purely negative in its rebellion, and cannot give the new generation of rebels anything positive against which it should not rebel. It is not that the old man cannot convince young people that he is right; it is that he cannot even convince them that he is convinced. And he is not convinced; for he never had any conviction except that he was young, and that is not a conviction that strengthens with years.

Illustrated London News, 1921

Chesterton was, of course talking about his own time and specifically mentions a time corresponding to the life of George Bernard Shaw. However, it seems prophetic to a certain generation which will go unnamed here.

Lost in Translation

2009-09-21T17:51:00.004-05:00

I typically don't bellyache about different translations too much. If the Church says it's OK, then it's OK with me. Furthermore, my own writing style is an appalling mixture of overwrought hyperbole and confusing metaphor, so I'm disinclined to say anyone else needs to improve. However, today's Liturgy of the Hours might change my mind. From the closing of today's morning prayer (Feast of St. Matthew), Novus Ordo version (courtesy of Universalis)

O God, in your wonderful compassion

you called Matthew to be an Apostle

instead of a tax-collector.

Fill us with his example and grant that by his intercession

we may follow you

and keep unshakeably close to you.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

God for ever and ever.

Amen.

Today is also the Feast of St. Matthew in the pre-VII Divine Office. The closing prayer for the morning prayer runs thusly (courtesy of Divinum Officium)

Let us pray
Help us, O Lord, by the prayers of thine holy Apostle and Evangelist Matthew, that what for ourselves we are not able to obtain, may be freely given us at his petition.
Through Jesus Christ, thy Son our Lord, Who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end.
R. Amen.

Seems more dignified to me, even though it's not good English. The Divinum Officium site looks to be done by someone who doesn't speak English as his first language. Probably the first sentence would make more sense if it said "O Lord, by the prayers of thine holy Apostle and Evangelist Matthew, grant us that which we cannot obtain for ourselves". Or something. But I get the point. Through Matthew's intercession may be get what we need. The other one just seems like something you'd read in a High School student essay (or maybe even Grade School). What I don't understand is, the old prayer seems perfectly appropriate. Most of the closing prayers in the Liturgy of the Hours are not blatantly intercessory in nature, so it's a nice change of pace. The newer prayer with it's "Thanks for making Matthew a Saint instead of a smelly tax collector, and make us all Saints as well" is a nice sentiment, but it is just ... awful. If you were in charge of revising the Breviary, why put yourself at risk for dropping a clunker like that when there's a perfectly good prayer already?

That's probably motivation to learn Latin.

iPhone Apps update

2009-09-20T21:33:00.004-05:00

Still no Catechism for the iPhone. There was an app, called iCatechism, which claimed to be the CCC, but it didn't have paragraph #'s, so I never got it. However, that's been pulled, apparently due to copyright infringement. I think that some albino Opus Dei monks broke into the offices of that company (who will remain unnamed for their protection) and shorted out their servers with Holy Water, and probably did violence to the English language.

Anyway, while it's not a perfect solution, the fine folks at St Charles Borromeo, in Picayune MS have a web site formatted a little better for mobile phones here. The main difference is that the mobile site doesn't have the same padding around the text, which allows your iPhone or Blackberry or Palm to zoom in on the text a little more.

Perhaps we'll never get a Catechism App.

St Catherine of Siena

2009-09-15T18:57:00.008-05:00

I went to St Catherine of Siena a week or so ago. I waited this long to post some pictures because I'd emailed the Parish some questions and was waiting for a response, and only now gave up on waiting.

My wife and I argued about what to call the design of the Church for a while, but I've convinced myself that it's modernist architecture. One of the tenets of the modernist movement is that form follows function, also one of the design inspirations is machinery. A house is a machine for living, as they say. Put those two things together and there's a preference to show the "bones" of a structure, as is seen here with the beams bolted together and prominently on display. At least that's what I read on the interweb. When I think of Modernist, I typically associate that with flat, geometric shapes, typified by the glass box skyscrapers that form most city skylines. Whatever it's called, it's the same design ethic as the unnamed Church I wrote about earlier, which is in the same Diocese. They must have a architectural consultant who's smitten with that style.

I don't think I like the style. To me it seems a bit sterile and doesn't seem to inspire prayer so much as makes me wonder where if I put my socket set away when I was done using it. In fact, there does seem to be a Lincoln-Log or other construction-toy type ethic to this architectural style. I sort of expect to see Playmobil people sitting in the pews. Now, in contrast to the earlier piece I wrote, St Catherine definitely looks like the Church, inside and out (well, maybe the outside looks a little like a town hall, but it does at least have a cross). St Catherine didn't go hog-wild with the trendy design.

The Eucharistic chapel is off to the side, with glass walls and less of a "functional" style, but still bereft of visual stimulation. The Tabernacle seems to be made of marble or some other stone. The Chapel is right beside the main church with huge windows and glass doors connecting the two. It's OK, but it's a bit of a strange feeling seeing the main Church just beyond the altar. I went on a weekday for daily Mass, which was held in the chapel. I wonder how it's used during Sunday Mass? Do people sit in the chapel and watch the action at the altar? Or do people in the main church look over their shoulders to see what's going on? Does the Chapel take up the overflow crowd that always comes in late? What about Jesus in the tabernacle? Do they at least leave the lights on for Him if no one's sitting there during Sunday Mass?

The altar has me a bit stumped. There are six symbols on the Altar. Starting on the Top-Left, there's an upside down cross with two keys. That's clearly symbolizing Peter. Below that is an X-type thing with something I can't decipher in the middle. The X could be St. Andrew. Below that is a strange, skull looking design, but it actually looks like 3 sea shells, and if so that would be St. James the Greater. Over at the Top Right there's something I can't make out at all. It looks like a Chalice with two flails or something. Below that is a cross with 2 dots. If the dots are supposed to be loaves of bread, that'd be St. Philip. Below that is what appear to be 3 knives, which very likely represent St. Bartholomew. I emailed St. Catherine's office to clear that up, but they never responded.

The Lectern is another mystery. With four symbols on the lectern, I'd be sure that those were to represent the four evangelists, but alas those are as inscrutable as the Voynich Manuscript, or something on Lost. Again, St. Catherine never got back to me. That's unusual. Usually I find that people are more than eager to show off their place, but not this time. Maybe their normal person is on vacation.

The altar area is nice. I didn't take a picture of them, but there are some very nice statues around and the Crucifix is well done.

She arrived at six and the place was swinging
To Gospel music by nine.
Group after group appeared on the stage,
Sally just sat there crying.
She bit her nails, looking pretty as a picture
Right in the very front row.
Then a DJ wearing a blazer with a badge
Came on and said "Here we go!"

(sorry, it's been stuck in my head ever since I saw it)

My wife and I attended St. Catherine a long time ago. So long ago, in fact, that I remember sitting next to St. Irenaeus at 9:30AM Mass. It was, in any event, before this Church was built. In fact, it was before they even started raising money for the new building, which makes St. Catherine of Siena the only parish my wife and I have attended since moving to Dallas that didn't have annoying appeals for money to build or upgrade their building.

Overall, I'm not sure what to think. It was kind of neat being back at the old place, but I had mixed emotions. I was thinking about the old apartment we lived in at the time, and the rec center down the street, and the traffic and the pool-hall that we could walk to and the mean neighbors. It was certainly a different time. At to that the new Church and it's hard to separate out the feelings. St. Catherine seems to be somewhat on the orthodox side compared to some of the other quirky Parishes I've attended, so that's good to hear.

Biblia Clerus

2009-09-10T19:37:00.003-05:00

Somehow this escaped my attention until yesterday. You can a download a good chunk of it to your PC. Note, I said "PC", not Mac. However this does seem to run under Crossover, if you're a Mac user who doesn't want to pony up for a Windows license. (Crossover is a quirky program, so YMMV.)

Cool

A reading from 1 Jacobin, Chapter 1

2009-09-07T14:17:00.003-05:00

Thus, on the First day of the week, in the afternoon of the First day of the week, I approached the temple of the Lord, that I may praise His name and examine the skills of His craftsmen. 2Upon approach, behold! a large-necked thug stood before a velvet rope which I saw was surely fastened.
3 "Pray, let me pass that I may praise the Lord and inspect the skills of His craftsmen", I thus spoke.
4 "Nay, thou may not pass", sayeth the thug.
5 "Oddsfish? Mayest I not pass?"
6"Nay, it is neither the hour nor the day to praise the Lord nor even to inspect the skills of His craftsmen", sayeth the thug.
7 Upon that time, a member of the royal class did approach and yon thug dutifully opened the velvet rope to let him pass, collecting a sheckel for his trouble.
8 Thus sayeth me: "C'mon man!" The thug was unmoved.
9 "Pardon me for asking" I asked, "doesest not the Lord welcome all who may come to Him in the holy scriptures?"
10 The thug considered that momentarily, then responded 11"Oddsfish, perhaps so, but doesest the Lord also not say in holy scripture 'What concern is this of mine?'".
12 "Thou hasest me there." did I sourly note. 13 Then a thought occured to me, "Why, praytell, may I not enter the House of the Lord to give praise and inspect the skills of His craftsmen?"
14 The thug replied, "Behold! Thou are merely reeking with inadequacies. 15 Indeed, were I to let you in you'd likely steal our finery, tramp your smelly feet all over our bare floors and rub your dirty hands all over our unadorned walls, such as to adorn them with the memory of your nasty presence".
16 "Behold!", said I, "I am not from Arkansas! See? I have all my teeth still in my head."
17 "Yet as it may be, I can tell thou are a mean and nasty sort, the kind of which is likely to untidy what it tidy and steal what may be stolen."
18 "Ah, but may I not do those foul deeds when the hour and day comes that I may praise the Lord and inspect the skills of His craftsmen? 19 May I not stay behind to disturbe the peace and causest a public nuisance?"
20 "Even so, but to keep the plebian class out on the hour and the day has shown to be detrimental to ye collection basket."
21 I thus spoke: "Therefore, should I arrive at the appointed hour day I may enter the holy sanctuary to give praise to God and inspect the skills of His craftsmen"?
22 Thus sayest the thug: "Indeed, thou mayest. 23 We will not impede your progress, though we will scowl fiercely and throwest your bottom parts out when the hour and day have passed."
24 And behold, when I didest return at the appointed day and hour, the thug had been banished to his quarters and the velvet rope had been rolled to one side. 25 And I approached and found all as was described, floors so bare that even the slightest tough of my smelly feet was sufficient to leave a stench and walls with such unadornment that even the slightest glance from one as unworthy as I would adorn them with the memory of my nasty presence. 26 However, no finery could I find, it perchance being nicked even before I were to befoul the place with my presense.

So I went to visit a Church yesterday only to find it locked tight. Apparently the hoi polloi was getting a little too close. Strangly enough the community center building on the grounds was open for business with no one to guard their holy halls or keep a watchful eye on their nicknacks. When I went to St. Ann's in Coppell, it was a trick, but I was able to find an unlocked door so I could get in. St. Ann is right down the street from Valley Ranch, where the Dallas Cowboys and Dallas Stars occasionally show up, but rarely to practice (or so it seemed last year). With hooligans like that just down the street, it'd be understandable that St. Ann would be locked up tight, with armed guards and dogs. And yet they managed to keep the place open and the silverware all in the drawer. However, the church I visited yesterday didn't have a Cowboy within five miles and yet was locked up tighter than a drum. If you wanted to pray, you were fresh out of luck. But if you wanted to make a youth banner, you came to the right place. And that was on a Sunday afternoon.

OK, maybe this DOES mean something

2009-08-30T12:35:00.003-05:00

I've been a hold-out on the idea that the Church is returning to tradition. I don't believe the overly pessimistic blog entries I read, nor the overly optimistic stories either. But something happened yesterday that's starting to change my mind.

We went to Saturday evening Mass and were treated to a number of tunes belted out enthusiastically by the choir, accompanied by a saxophone, electric bass guitar, piano and acoustic guitar. The hymns could have come from the Liberation Theology Hymnal of 1978. The motley collection of instruments reminded me of the Muppet Show pit orchestra. Nothing unusual there. However, in the pews were little blue song sheets with two hymns that aren't often sung that the choir director wanted to make sure everyone had handy. One was a new arrangement of the Gloria and the other was the Agnus Dei -- the traditional Agnus Dei in Latin. The fact that the Agnus Dei was on the card had more symbolic than actual value: we usually sing it all during Lent so people probably know how it goes (though they may not know the words) and in fact we did sing the Agnus Dei yesterday in between Peace and Justice tunes.

Also, in the Church Bulletin was an insert from the Family Ministry group talking about all the Family Ministries and encouraging people to sign up. Nothing unusual there. But they had a "activity page", similar to what you'd see on a kid's placemat in a family restaurant (that's unusual). One of the fun activities listed was to match up the Latin titles of Papal Encyclicals in column A with their English names in column B.

Two uses of Latin in the same week in my parish. I can't explain it. When I see candles on the altar in the so-called Benedictine arrangement, I'll know that things have changed.

Am I the only one that noticed?

2009-08-29T10:45:00.003-05:00

The remnants of Tropical Storm Danny are blowing ashore in Massachusetts as Senator Edward Kennedy is being buried. Danny. The Kennedy family is Irish. Oh Danny Boy is a somber tune often sung at Irish funerals.

I mentioned earlier that I have little in common with Senator Kennedy, but I also mentioned that I never looked forward to his passing. Truly that family has a tragic history of what might have been. What might have happened had Jack or Robert Kennedy lived? What might have happened if Edward used his charm and political skill to champion the pro-life cause he once held?

Indeed, a sad thought. I pray for Senator Kennedy's soul.

Greatness from Father Benedict Groeschel

2009-08-26T19:16:00.002-05:00

Father Groeschel is generally pretty laid back on his Sunday Night Show on EWTN. That's mostly because he's lucky to be alive -- and is still seriously crippled -- after being run over a few years back. But his older talks are available online and they are simply marvelous. He doesn't have the fiery presentation of Fr Corapi, but he has sarcastic and combative nature that's very entertaining.

Here he is at Christendom College (via iTunes U) talking about the scriptural exegisis done by Pope Benedict XVI / Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger. It's over an hour long so download it and listen to it in the car or something. It's worth your time.

Interest set of posts about Cathedral designs

2009-08-23T20:35:00.003-05:00

Over at the Shrine. The bulk of the discussion is at NLM.

Good stuff from a student of architecture who, therefore, should know what he's talking about. He raises a number of interesting points about how things set on the axis of a building naturally stand out, which I would have never thought of.

I'll be glad when you're dead, you rascal, you.

2009-08-21T18:24:00.002-05:00

There's a prevailing attitude among more conservative-minded Catholics and the liberals are all old and moldy and will soon be gone. Consider the comments in this story about the Vatican investigation of the liberal-minded LCWR. "Superannuated" and "Dinosaur" are some of the more polite terms used in the blogosphere to describe those older folks who tend to be a little to the left, the ones who rocked out at Woodstock, then decided to bring Peace and Love with them back to the good old Catholic Church.

But it's always struck me as tacky, at best, and tasteless, at worst, to talk with glee at the advancing age of those you don't agree with and use terms like "dying out", as if they were a weed or fungus or disease which needed to be eradicated from the face of the Earth.

Clearly, it's not everyone from that generation who's in this category. Pope Benedict XVI and John Paul II both participated in Vatican II. Father Richard John Neuhaus marched with Martin Luther King before entering the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy, and Michael Novak, sometimes conservative Catholic, started out as a long-haired freaky person, himself. So if all these old Catholics can still be good Catholics, should we be counting down to when the last of that generation kicks the bucket?

Isn't that just the most disgraceful opinion to have? Listen, I'm no fan of Joan Chittister, Richard Rohr, Cardinal Mahony or, for that matter, Ted Kennedy or Mario Cuomo, but that doesn't mean I wish them dead. That's a clear violation of the 5th Commandment.

Also, lest anyone forget, this is the crowd that coined the phrase "don't trust anyone over 30". So they felt the same way in their day. The long march of history was on their side and all they had to do was wait until all the old fogeys kicked the bucket and they'd remake the world in their own image.

Apparently it didn't work for them, so what's to make a youngish person today think it will work now? Perhaps God is on our side? That seems like a good example of the darkest of the deadly sins: Pride.

Sure, pray for a conversion of hearts. Pray that our Churches and Schools will faithfully pass on the faith. Pray to have the courage to do your part to teach the faith. If, through your prayers, the more liberal groups lose membership as people wise up, or if they fail to attract new members because the new generation isn't buying it, then Deo Gratias! But don't gloat as some cohort passes from this world to the next.

Update from the Heartland

2009-08-18T20:32:00.002-05:00

I just came back from my hometown. It's always a unique experience being there. Since I don't see it very often, there's a stop-action quality to the normal changes that occur everyplace. The people there say that nothing ever changes, but to me the changes are as obvious as can be.

One of the more subtle changes is that my old parish has a new associate pastor (aka Parochial Vicar) who's a bit more traditional than normal. He occasionally wears old fiddle-back chasubles and even uses Eucharistic Prayer I (the Roman Canon from the Extraordinary Form) from time to time. He doesn't use any Latin, but it's a start.

I also got to meet a friend of his, who's a permanent deacon in Toledo, and he specializes in assisting at the Extraordinary Form. Father Z mentions permanent deacons assisting in the older Mass, but I'd never seen a permanent deacon who was assigned to an EF parish. It's cool.

Not many people would accuse that diocese of being a bastion of traditionalism, but it was interesting to meet those two people. At this point I'm obligated by union rules to point out that they both are young: 40 years old or less.

But my engineering brain has been consumed for the past few days on a more practical issue: the sound system. My old parish is a big old pile of rocks in a traditional cruciform style. It's beautiful to look at, but horrible to listen to. The echos are maddening. I frankly don't remember things being that bad when I was younger, though I remember being coached to speak s-l-o-w-l-y when doing the readings or petitions during our grade school and high school masses. Perhaps during the renovation, the sound system was changed for the worse.

Last year when I went to Our Lady of Consolation I noticed the same thing, it being also a beautiful old stone church.

It seems that something should be possible. Hanging tapestries along the walls to reduce reflection, or coating the ceiling with some sort of foam that would look just like the stone. I really don't know much about that, but it's a shame to have such a pretty old church and have the homilies and readings basically unintelligible due to the echos. If no one can understand the prayers anyway, they might as well be in Latin!

The choices probably range from ineffective to expensive, and that area doesn't have money at all at this point. But it'd be nice to know if there are options at all.

Cool story about new Religious

2009-08-11T19:52:00.002-05:00

At the NY Times.

“We’ve heard anecdotally that the youngest people coming to religious life are distinctive, and they really are,” said Sister Mary Bendyna, executive director of the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate. “They’re more attracted to a traditional style of religious life, where there is community living, common prayer, having Mass together, praying the Liturgy of the Hours together. They are much more likely to say fidelity to the church is important to them. And they really are looking for communities where members wear habits.”
Of the new priests and nuns who recently joined religious orders, two-thirds chose orders that wear a habit all the time or regularly during prayer or ministry, the study found.

If that drops behind the subscription-required wall, check it out here .

iPhone RSV-CE price just dropped

2009-08-06T21:14:00.003-05:00

It was $9.99 when I got it. It's now $7.99. It's worth it. If you have an iPhone or an iPod Touch, I recommend getting it.

Also, he has the RSV with Deuterocanonicals for $7.99. It's similar, but it includes a few books not in the Catholic Canon and they likely are in a different order, and possibly the verses are in a different order in a few of the books.

Normally I'd get it, but my iPhone budget is shot for the month, and next month's may go towards Secret of Monkey Island.

Speaking of price drops, the Universalis App has dropped in price to $25, and now includes the Mass readings in either NAB or Jerusalem translation. That hurts, a little.

Update on the Dallas Latin Mass

2009-08-02T20:58:00.002-05:00

I went to the Carmelite Chapel today and assisted in my first Mass with Father Longua. Perhaps my earlier assessment was a bit too bleak. His homily was a fine example of catechesis and everything was actually just fine.

He seems very young, so I was happy to see that our prayers for new priests are being answered.

Welcome to Father Longua!

Noooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-07-30T22:11:00.001-05:00

From the Dallas Mater Dei webpage:

Father Terra has been reassigned to Phoenix in July 2009.
Father Thomas Longua FSSP has been assigned to serve us
as chaplain in Dallas and Fort Worth.
We welcome him

I was a huge Fr Terra fan. I'm sure Fr Lonua will be fine, but I'll sorely miss Fr Terra's sermons on life issues.

How to read the Bible

2009-07-24T21:08:00.003-05:00

How would I know? Catholics don't read the Bible, right? There's a stereotype that Catholics don't, can't or aren't allowed to read the Bible. And, like most stereotypes, there's a grain of truth to that. I can't explain it, but it's just not in the Catholic DNA to carry around a Bible and read it in your free moments. I think that at one time, there was a hue and cry from Protestants that Catholics spent too much time praying the rosary and not enough time reading the Bible and the modernist reformers said "you know, you're right!" and got rid of the rosary. So now Catholics don't do either one.

But meet The Great Adventure. The people who started this deduced (correctly) that the reason a lot of people don't read the Bible is because it's a strange book to read from cover to cover. Not for nothing is The Bible called The Greatest Story Ever Told: parts of the Old Testament are exciting tales of adventure, deceit and cunning. And reading through the Gospels sends chills down my spine when I read through all wonderful acts and teachings of Jesus and the way the crowds reacted to Him. But then there are dry books in the Old Testament that don't really make any sense and then there are the cranky letters of Paul where he's complaining about offenses that happened off-camera, so to speak. It's inconsistent and frustrating and it's hard to just sit down and read it all.

Well, they decided that you can boil the Bible story down to just 14 books, which you can read in order to understand salvation history. Sounds good to me. Except, they won't tell you what books those are until you fork over $10. Note that that's $10 for the list of books, not the books themselves, perhaps in a bare-bones Readers Digest version of the Bible. In an earlier post, I was feeling a little gullible because I spent $10 for an iPhone Bible app, which contains the entire RSV-CE Bible, including the forward and all the footnotes. These people want $10 for a piece of paper with 14 words written on it. Well, actually, they also divide it into 12 historical periods, so that's actually a total of 26 words, or approximate $0.39 a word. Well, actually they add in all the other Bible books, indicating which of the narrative books describes the events in all the other books, which takes the cost down to between $0.05 to $0.10 per word. So maybe I should quit complaining.

Charging $10 for a laminated piece of card stock seems a little excessive even to them, so they also include an instructional DVD, a fully motorized pig, a colored bracelet and a letter signed by Little Orphan Annie (countersigned by Pierre Andre).

Actually, the DVD and CDs and products that go along with The Great Adventure look interesting, and I think they'd be a great resourse for a Sunday School teacher. But come on! $10 for a list of books and a silly bracelet? I may have Republican bona-fides, but that's too much. (I once purchased a cutting-board in Belize made from different types of rain-forest trees, thus directly participating in the destruction of their jungle. It's quite pretty.)

Fortunately, I can use the internet and found people with less business sense (including the Mormons) and can constuct the list here, no charge. The OT books are:

Genesis
Exodus
Numbers
Joshua
Judges
1 Samuel
2 Samuel
1 Kings
2 Kings
Ezra
Nehemia
Macabbees.

For the New Testament, any of the synoptic Gospels would do, followed by Acts and, if you're adventurous, Revelation.

What about all those other books? Job takes place during the time of Genesis. Leviticus and Deuteronomy would be with Exodus. The Wisdom books -- Psalms, Proverbs, Wisdom, Essesiastes and Song of Songs -- go with 2 Samuel through 2 Kings. 2 Macabees is the same story as 1 Macabbees and the rest go with 2 Kings to Nehamiah, mostly 2 Kings.

In the New Testament, not counting the other Gospels which are self-explanatory, all the epistles take place during or just after the events in Acts. Revelation takes place in Heaven, which is outside of time.

There. Now go get reading!

An update on iPhone apps

2009-07-19T10:55:00.004-05:00

There's a new Catholic Bible in the app store. The RSV-CE by Versewise. It's expensive, at $9.99. These translations are still under copyright, so the developers probably have to pay a royalty. That would explain why most of the Bibles in the App store are older, public domain texts like the Douay-Rheims or the King James Version. Charging for the Bible does seem a little gauche to me. I'm happy to pay people for their work, being one of the only Republicans left in the US, but I suspect that thirty years after a translation comes out, the costs have been recuperated and the royalties represent a stream of income, and nothing more. Given the economics of the iPhone App store, where most apps are $1.99 or less, charging $10, $20 or $30 for the Word of God seems high. (Again, I'm happy to pay the developer for his work in putting the app together). So I do admire the people that put out free Bible Apps, like this one.

That being said, I did buy it, and it's a fine app. The developer is coming out with a RSV with Deuterocanonical app as well, which I imagine will be similar, but it includes an extra Maccabees book.

Of course, since this is an internet device, you can always read the Bible online for free, as long as you have a WiFi or 2.5G (EDGE) or 3G connection.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I hadn't played much with the rosary apps. I did download iRosary and Art Rosary. I kind of like Art Rosary because of the nice images and the flickering votive candles and the background chant. But in the end, I'm not convinced of the value of either one. While the little meditations and images are helpful when thinking about the mysteries, I can get that with a folded piece of paper which requires less fumbling around with. It just feels wrong to be praying the rosary with an iPhone. It looks like you're praying to the iPhone.

Then there's iChaplet. This is a free app with nothing but instructions on how to pray various chaplets. Kind of like this website. That's useful, and interesting if you have a desire to stretch yourself beyond the more common prayers. And the price is right.

Isaiah 7:14

2009-07-19T10:13:00.003-05:00

Versewise just released their iPhone RSV-CE Bible App. It is the version commonly called "The Ignatius Bible" because Ignatius Press publishes it in the US. One of the controversies around the RSV Bible is Isaiah 7:14, which is translated as follows.

Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, a young woman shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.

Most other Christian Bibles, including the 2nd edition of the RSV-CE, would replace "young woman" with "virgin". The RSV has a helpful footnote that details differences between the Hebrew text, which translates as "young woman" and the Greek text which translates as "virgin". St Jerome in Jovinianus I had this to say about the text.

32. Isaiah tells of the mystery of our faith and hope: "Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Emmanuel." I know that the Jews are accustomed to meet us with the objection that in Hebrew the word Almah does not mean a virgin, but a young woman. And, to speak truth, a virgin is properly called Bethulah, but a young woman, or a girl, is not Almah, but Naarah! What then is the meaning of Almah? A hidden virgin, that is, not merely virgin, but a virgin and something more, because not every virgin is hidden, shut off from the occasional sight of men. Then again, Rebecca, on account of her extreme purity, and because she was a type of the Church which she represented in her own virginity, is described in Genesis as Almah, not Bethulah, as may clearly be proved from the words of Abraham's servant, spoken by him in Mesopotamia: "And he said, O Lord, the God of my master Abraham, if now thou do prosper my way which I go: behold I stand by the fountain of water; and let it come to pass, that the maiden which cometh forth to draw, to whom I shall say, Give me, I pray thee, a little water of this pitcher to drink; and she shall say to me, Both drink thou, and I will also draw for thy camels: let the same be the woman whom the Lord hath appointed for my master's son." Where he speaks of the maiden coming forth to draw water, the Hebrew word is Almah, that is, a virgin secluded., and guarded by her parents with extreme care. Or, if this be not so, let them at least show me where the word is applied to married women as well, and I will confess my ignorance.

St Jerome wasn't a model of humility, so his promise to confess his ignorance would not have been made unless he knew ahead of time he'd never have to deliver on it. I certainly don't know any Hebrew, so I'll have to take his word for it.

On the face of it, the phrase "young woman" doesn't seem to make sense. Remember, the Lord will give you a sign. If a "young woman" were to conceive a son, that hardly seems remarkable. Were she to name him Immanuel, that's not unusual in itself, either. Immanuel is, as I understand it, the same word as "Jesus" and that was not an uncommon name in Biblical times. So it seems that the only way we can read this as being a sign from God is if something unusual were to happen, and a virgin giving birth would certainly fall into that category.

So what's the right thing to do? Translate almah as "young woman" with a foot note that indicates a connotation to virginity, or translate the word as "virgin" and short-circuit the whole controversy? That's a translator's dilemma, I guess.

First Things, after RJN

2009-07-18T09:59:00.003-05:00

I've subscribed to First Things for about a year now. The last issue that Fr. Neuhaus wrote before his death was in February, or so. Since then, I don't know if I'll renew.

Let me give some first things about First Things. Not having ever been to New York, it seems a uniquely New Yorkish kind of thing. It's a journal of thoughtful writings by thoughtful people who are giving their thoughts about other thoughtful people's writings. Usually, a good 30% or 40% of each issue is devoted to various types of reviews: reviews of books, or of magazine articles, or of lectures. Sometimes they hit the jackpot and review a book that is itself a type of review: a story of a writer's life, or a survey of a certain philosophy.

Also, I should reveal my three-paragraph rule, honed while I suffered through my subscription to the Dallas Morning Snooze, which runs as follows. If I make it three paragraphs into an article and I don't know what the author's talking about yet, I don't need to read it. If the author is clearly opening with an anecdote of some kind, I replace that with my one-paragraph rule: I'll read the anecdote, but the very next paragraph better get to the point.

The New York angle, is that all this thinking and talking and consuming and regurgitating other people's ideas seems very stereotypical of New York intellectuals. You get the image of well-dressed men sitting in a coffee-house debating Kirkegaard. In Dallas, it's hard to imagine that, not because there aren't intellectuals to debate, but rather I tend to assume that in Dallas, the intellectuals would be out making money someplace rather than wearing out the chairs at their corner Starbucks.

And indeed, when I read First Things, I'm often struck with the same question while looking at the table of contents: who are these people? Some of the names are starting to look familiar, but there's a sense of over-educated, under-employed elitism in the list of authors. How do they get paid to sit around a think deep thoughts?

Since Father Neuhaus died, and it's only been a few issues so I'm still withholding judgment, it seems to have gotten even worse, with obscure authors breaking my three-paragraph rule frequently. Even Joseph Bottum, who I'm very much a fan of (see here and here) lead off with a rambling, incoherent manifesto of sorts when he assumed the reins of the magazine. It's a subtle thing, but it seems that Fr Neuhaus had a love for intellectual debate, but also had a sense of restraint. That is, he valued an exchange of ideas, but he also knew what would be of interest to the general public. "General Public" being a lose expression, as First Things had a fairly limited subscriber base. So far, with this new cast of characters, I suspect First Things will become even more of a niche magazine, akin to avant-guard poetry journals and philosophical tracts where the writers and editors are practically the only readers.

My subscription is coming due and I don't know if I'll renew or not. I used to enjoy diving into the latest issue in a comfy chair, but lately it's just not as much fun.

It's too bad.

Survey of Catholic iPhone Apps

2009-07-02T18:00:00.008-05:00

I've been trying out some iPhone apps and here are some quick impressions.

Bible:
Not much to choose from here. If you want a Catholic Bible, you're probably stuck with the Douay-Rheims translation. No other translation has the deuterocanonical books, that I've been able to find. There is a bible app that you can buy a NAB pack for, but it's crazy expensive: over $20. I don't know why the USCCB insists on shooting itself in the foot like this. I am now looking at a NAB bible available online for less than $10, a price which includes a modest profit for the retailer, possibly a modest profit for the holder of the copyright (the USCCB) and also covers the cost of producing and distributing the book. An electronic version should avoid the costs of printing and distributing, at least. They must be proud of that thing.

Anyway, in the Douay-Rheims camp you have the Bible included with iPieta, which has English and the Latin Vulgate, which you can view side by side. This is pretty nice, but the weird part is that the books are in a strange order. First the Gospels, then the Psalms, then the Apocalypse and it goes on and on. I'll grant that the Bible was not meant to be read cover to cover, so the order of the books is not of paramount importance. Indeed, I tend to jump around when I read the Bible: all of Jeremiah, then I read Hebrews, then some of Deuteronomy. But it seems weird to have the books out of order to begin with.

This bible, like all of the ones listed is called the Douay-Rheims, but is actually the Challoner revision. It does not have any of the notes from that revision. Only the basic text. You can search and copy and paste works. It has a somewhat strange set of gestures, but you don't have to use them. Overall, it's nice

Next we have the Holy Bible, Douay Rheims Edition. This is only the New Testement (so it's only the Rheims part) and is also the Challoner revision. However, it does have the notes included. However, the notes are the same font and size of the scriptural text and are not set apart in any way. It's a little hard to know where the scripture ends and the notes begin (as seen here after Matthew 1:16). It is kind of nice having the notes available, but I find them to be distracting and the fact that only the New Testament is in the Bible, is a bummer.

Visually, the text is OK and getting around in the Bible is OK. You can record voice notes or type in notes and you can change the screen to white on black (for reading in the dark, I guess). You can also bookmark your favorite passages. All of those things are normal book-reader type apps and that is in fact what this is. A book-reader that happens to have the Rheims New Testament loaded into it.

Lastly is The Bible by Ubiklabs. This is the best looking of the bunch, but it's the hardest to use. It's the Challoner bible, both Testaments, with his notes. The text is readable, but there are no options for text font or size. There's no way to search the bible. You can set a single book mark. To move forward in the bible, you touch the screen. To move back, you touch the screen. It's never clear which direction you're going, though because of the imprecise nature. Basically you touch the left side to move back and the right side to move forward, but the program really wants to move forward and it's sometimes hard to dissuade it. That means there's also no copying text. You touch the screen to copy and the page turns one way or the other. The program also makes a rustling noise like a page turning when you go from one page to another. There's no way to turn that off, either.

There are free (Protestant) Bible apps and those typically are OK.

Really, it's a miracle that we can carry a Bible around in our pockets, let alone a dozen different versions and carp and moan about the deficiencies of each one. However, if I were to choose, I'd pick the iPieta app.

Catechism
There is no app with the Catechism, nor can you download it as a book. There is an app called Wattpad which gives access to many, many books, and the Catechism is available through that in two parts. The book is not really formatted for the iPhone screen and the lines are slightly too long, which means that many lines are a single word too long, which wraps all by itself on the next line. There's no search, either. The scriptural index found in the big Catechism is not present, making this basically the "pocket size" (whose pockets can hold that?)

iPieta includes the Baltimore Catechism 1, 2 and 3, Christian Doctrine (the catechism of Pope Pius X), the Roman Catechism (also known as The Catechism of the Council of Trent) and the catechism of St. Thomas Aquinas. You can search the Catechisms and you can copy text.

Again, how can you complain about all these books being available? I like the idea of Wattpad, and I downloaded a couple of books for it, but I'd have to say that iPieta, along with a web-based Catechism is the way to go here. The Roman Catechism is very similar to the current CCC (the faith doesn't change, after all, it's just updated as new issues come along).

Prayers
iPieta has a large number of prayers to Jesus and Mary and some saint prayers (the prayer to bless a St Benedict medal is here, for example). It also has the (OF) Mass readings for every day. You can't search the prayers, but they are limited enough in scope that you won't feel like you're unable to find something. If it's there, you'll find it. If you can't find it, it's not there.

Universalis has the Liturgy of the Hours and (OF) Mass readings for every day. The scripture is the Jerusalem translation, so it's impractical to use this to pray the Liturgy of the Hours with other people using a breviary, unless they happen to have the same translation (I don't know about other English speaking countries but in the US, the printed breviaries will have the NAB translation). As far as I can tell, the entire Office of Readings is included. The antiphons are printed where they belong, which is a big help. As of today, an update came out that allows you to copy text.

The Universalis app, at $33, is expensive for an iPhone app. I just got done complaining about the NAB bible being an insane $20 and I'm willing to forgive this costing over $30. What gives? The price is basically the same price as the one-volume Christian Prayer (CBP or DSP version) but those only have a selection of the Office of Readings. The CBP version has a little guide that comes out each year telling you what pages all the prayers are on each day. I guess you're on your own if you get the Pauline version (which is supposed to be laid out better). To get all this in book form would be almost $150 and you'd still need that little guide to tell you what's up on each day. This app has all that figured out. Everything is stored on the phone so no internet or cell connection is required. The same with the Mass readings.

Universalis makes a version of this for your Mac or PC. If you buy one version, you get the registration code for all of them.

As a side note, I'm an amateur programmer myself and I've often viewed the ordo as a fairly good programming exercise. Figuring out which day it is, and figuring out if a particular feast day or solemnity out-ranks another is a good exercise to learn about algorithms and programming style, but not so easy as to be trivial and not so hard as to be impossible. Not that I've ever done it, but I occasionally think about doing something like that for the EF calendar.

Verdict: I like them both, but I use the Universalis app every day.

You see stuff like these books and you realize just how big a megabyte really is. Many, many pages of text and they don't take up much space at all.

Rosary
I haven't played with these much, yet.

Other
Not a faith-based app at all, but I also like ooTunes. This app lets you listen to a huge number of radio stations. There are a fair number of Catholic radio stations listed, so I can see using this to catch up on Catholic Answers or something while out of town.

Positive Press for Catholic Charities

2009-06-28T21:24:00.002-05:00

From tonight's Dateline episode on NBC. A quick profile of people down on their luck in today's crummy economy.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

On the TV show, but not on the clip, they had an update that the woman in this clip did manage to find a job. Good for her!

I've been critical of Catholic Charities in the past, but this is good work and it's good to see them get recognition for it. We have United Way at work, and I've always directed my donations to Catholic Charities. Last year, in a fit of pique after Catholic Charities in Virginia had staff members providing contraception and an abortion to an underaged girl, I reduced my United Way donations at work to a very low level, directed at Catholic Charities in Houston (they're still digging out from the hurricane in 2008). But after seeing this story, I'll likely increase it back to something more meaningful.

Technology and Faith

2009-06-23T19:51:00.002-05:00

Now that I have my iPhone and am getting acclimated to it, and learning how to deal with it's little quirks, I wonder what the proper use of it is. Currently, I have three strictly faith-related apps on it: iPieta (Bible, prayers and info on saints, including some of their writings), a simple Douay-Rheims New Testament (which is just the "Rheims" part, I guess) but which has many, if not all of the interlinear notes, and I broke down and bought the Universalis app. In addition, I have a fairly large number of shows that I recorded from EWTN that I've put on it, along with plainchant and polyphony that I can listen to.

So, my question is: is it OK to use this in church? I remember going to daily Mass one time and I saw a woman using her Blackberry, and it made me mad until I realized that she was using it to follow along with the readings. Now, I'd never do that, but I mean what if I just went to Church to sit in the chapel and I was using my iPhone to say the LOTH or read an inspirational story? I see people read books in Church, either prayer books or the lives of the saints. Is this different because it runs on a battery?

To me, it's kind of like having a bass player in the band at Mass. Sure, a bass can be a fine accompliment, but it's also what Gene Simmons plays, and I don't need that in Mass. Especially if it has the flame under the varnish. It has a secular connotation, and so is not appropriate for Mass. The same with a shiny phone with a screen that lights up. (I don't know if Gene Simmons has an iPhone. If he does, it's likely he doesn't have the Universalis app).

So I agree that it doesn't belong in Mass, or any other public worship. But what about when I stop by the Church during the day when I can reasonably expect that no one else will be around to scoff at my personal tech. Is it OK then?

If anyone is curious about the Universalis app, it's pretty cool, but expensive. You get the Lauds, Vespers, Compline and Matins (Office of Readings) for every day. The calendar is on the phone so even if you don't have a WiFi or cell connection it works. And you get a license for the desktop app as well. Also included are the Mass Readings and a fair amount about the Saint whose feastday it is. What's not really included are the Little Hours, and while the antiphons are repeated where they need to be said for the Lauds, Vespers and Compline (which is sooooo nice), they are not for the invitatory psalm. The translation is the Jersualem Bible, the one Mother Angelica used. That may be good or bad, depending on whether you live in the US and whether you are a fan of the NAB. If you plan on taking this to your local LOTH praying group, it probably will be bad if they are using the approved books in the US, as the translation will be different.

For the money, you can get this, or you can get the 1-volume Christian Prayer. This is better, because it figures out what day it is and presents those readings and there's no flipping back and forth and it has the full Office of Readings. Except people might get cranky if you bring this to Church instead of a breviary.

¿es usted católico?

2009-06-20T09:57:00.004-05:00

Before I got my iPhone last night, I took Communion to people as part of my parish's hospital ministry. It happens occasionally that I'll come across someone who only speaks Spanish, and I've compensated for that by writing some common prayers in my book, like Padre Nuestro (Our Father) and so on. Often between that, and hand signals and so on, we can communicate. I know a handful of Spanish words and typically people living in the US will pick up a handful of common English phrases and between the two of us we can get by. Occasionally, an older person who knows no English will be the patient, but a child or grandchild will be there also who can translate.

Last night I had a room full of people, none of whom spoke a word of English. That's a stressful situation, and my limited Spanish skills soon flew out the window and I was reduced to "Catholico? Communiono receivez-vous-o?". However, we were eventually able to communicate my purpose for being there, and we made it through the Lords Prayer and when one of the people present spontaneously recited the Domine, non sum dignus (Lord, I'm not worthy...) in Spanish I was immediately able to figure out what she was saying and continued on. I need to add that to my book. Or maybe add it to my iPhone. (There are translating apps for the iPhone)

Probably, if I grew up in Texas I'd know Spanish. As it was, I grew up in Ohio and the French teacher was way better looking than the Spanish teacher in High School, so taking French instead of Spanish was the easy (but misguided) choice. Of course, she left the next year and was replaced by a scary amazon with arms hairier than mine (even now), but that's the way it goes. Anyway, it worked out and I hope I was able to provide some comfort to the poor man and his family.

Got my iPhone!

2009-06-20T07:03:00.002-05:00

I went to my local AT&T Store last night and picked up an iPhone 3GS. I waited about an hour and eventually got the last 32Gb unit they had in stock. I'm enough of a Catholic nerd that the first app I got was this one. It's pretty slick: it has the Bible, the Roman Catechism (aka the Catechism of the Council of Trent), a bunch of prayers and writings of the saints like St. Louis de Montford and St Teresa. Eventually I'll pick up the Universalis App.

My old iPod was a 3rd Generation, I think, with the click wheel, but black and white, so no video and a 20Gb hard drive. So moving to an iPhone was a bit like moving from an old Chevy Cavalier (which is so old it's not made anymore) to a brand new Caddy. I was disappointed, however that I can't just drop my existing video's onto the iPhone. I have to export them into the iPhone's preferred format (m4v). They take up less space, and they do look good on the iPhone, but I have a lot of video and it's going to take a while to port them over. If I want to watch video on my iPhone while I'm on a plane, I'll have to plan ahead a week in advance to get stuff set up.

Still, it's a pretty sweet toy.

Chesterton's Feast Day, so to speak

2009-06-14T12:40:00.003-05:00

From Universalis.

G.K. Chesterton (1874 - 1936)
On this day in 1936 died G.K. Chesterton, writer and journalist. His writings – stories, essays, poems, books, journalism – are infused with an unequalled joy and love of truth.
In youth, he went through a crisis of nihilistic pessimism and it was his recovery from this that led him to God and ultimately to conversion. “The Devil made me a Catholic,” he said – meaning that it was the experience of evil and nothingness that convinced him of the goodness and sanity of the world and his creator. His poem “The Ballade of a Suicide” celebrates the salvific value of ordinary things; his novel, “The Man who was Thursday,” narrates the fight for sanity in an insane world and ponders the paradox of God; and “Orthodoxy”, written long before he became a Catholic, highlights orthodoxy not as a dead and static thing but as the only possible point of equilibrium between crazy heresies any one of which would drive us mad.
He took part in all the major controversies of his age, and was a lifelong adversary and friend of socialists and atheists such as George Bernard Shaw. These controversies were conducted with passion but with unfailing charity: he never sought to defeat his opponents, only to defeat their ideas. He would never cheat to score a point: and his love for the people he fought against is something that all controversialists should imitate, however hard it may be.
Read him, and pray for him.

According to reports, there is a cause underway for GKC's sainthood. I have no doubt, he's in Heaven now, chuckling at the foibles of man. Canonization doesn't change that, but it might make for more entertaining homilies on St Gilbert Day.

Chesterton and Twain

2009-06-11T19:48:00.005-05:00

At the American Chesterton Society, there's much discussion about why there's so little discussion of Chesterton in colleges and among the literary class. The consensus is that there's a vast left-wing conspiracy to keep Chesterton down. They can't fight him, so they ignore him.

Well. I like Chesterton, but I can see why he's not taught much in schools. It's especially clear to me now because I'm currently reading Mark Twain's Christian Science and at the same time reading Chesterton's Everlasting Man. The two books have a lot in common: They are both about religion and philosophy. They were written in the same era (around the turn of the twentieth century for Christian Science and around the 1920's for Everlasting Man). They are both polemics. They are both written in a breezy, easy style. But for all that, the differences are stark.

In a way, Chesterton is the master of the sound bite. But to fully appreciate it, you need to have read the two or three pages leading up to it. For instance:

But to see a naval gentleman of our acquaintance looking a little more like a pig every day, till he ended with four trotters and a curly tail would not be any more soothing. It might be rather more creepy and uncanny.

That's a well-written couple of sentences. It crackes me up and it and begs to be quoted. But to fully appreciate it, you'd do well to read the sentences before it and after it:

But this notion of something smooth and slow like the ascent of a slope, is a great part of the illusion. It is an illogically as well as an illusion; for slowness has really nothing to do with the question. An event is not any more intrinsically intelligible or unintelligible because of the pace at which it moves. For a man who does not believe in a miracle, a slow miracle would be just as incredible as a swift one. The Greek witch may have turned sailors to swine with a stroke of the wand. But to see a naval gentleman of our acquaintance looking a little more like a pig every day, till he ended with four trotters and a curly tail would not be any more soothing. It might be rather more creepy and uncanny. The medieval wizard may have flown through the air from the top of a tower; but to see an old gentleman walking through the air in a leisurely and lounging manner, would still seem to call for some explanation. Yet there runs through all the rationalistic treatment of history this curious and confused idea that difficulty is avoided or even mystery eliminated, by dwelling on mere delay or on something dilatory in the processes of things. There will be something to be said upon particular examples elsewhere; the question here is the false atmosphere of facility and ease given by the mere suggestion of going slow; the sort of comfort that might be given to a nervous old woman traveling for the first time in a motor-car.

That's a little bit better, but to really get the feel, you'd have to read the paragraph before it. I won't quote it here. I'll just mention that, if you haven't already guessed, he's arguing against the theory of evolution. Or at least against one aspect of it, that you can avoid the difficulty of one thing turning into another thing by speculating that it takes place slowly.

Most of Chesterton's writing follows that same script. His arguments are drawn out, often over many pages of discursive, mamoth paragraphs (it's usual that one paragraph will be a page-and-a-half long) punctuated by individual lines of brilliance. I get the feeling that with a good editor, Chesterton's books could have been cut in half, and would have been three times as good for the effort. As a part-time blogger, I do like to quote Chesterton, and the fact that two delicious quotes are separated by 500 words that add little to the subject is particularly painful.

Chesterton is also known as the Prince of Paradox and his paradoxes are quites something. For example, from Orthodoxy

It is true that a man (a silly man) might make change itself his object or ideal. But as an ideal, change itself becomes unchangeable. If the change-worshipper wishes to estimate his own progress, he must be sternly loyal to the ideal of change; he must not begin to flirt gaily with the ideal of monotony. Progress itself cannot progress. It is worth remark, in passing, that when Tennyson, in a wild and rather weak manner, welcomed the idea of infinite alteration in society, he instinctively took a metaphor which suggests an imprisoned tedium. He wrote --
"Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change."
He thought of change itself as an unchangeable groove; and so it is. Change is about the narrowest and hardest groove that a man can get into.

"Change" as something monotonous. That's deep. And it's completely true. Years later, a some Canadians would boil that sentiment down to two sentences.

Always hopeful yet discontent,
He knows changes aren't permanent.
But change is.

Most of Chesterton's non-fiction contains copious references to his contemporaries: George Bernard Shaw, H.G. Wells, Rudyard Kipling. He drops names shamelessly and is quite unprepared to fill you in on what he's talking about. It gives his books almost a periodical feel. I sometimes feel like I'm reading the newspaper from 1920, picking the story up in the middle with no hope of understanding the beginning or the end of it.

Contrast this with Mark Twain. While Chesterton is a master of pithy bon mots, Mark Twain is a master at telling stories. Chesterton argues against his contemporaries by poking holes in their philosophy. Mark Twain argues against his contemporaries by telling stories. For example, in the beginning the book Mark Twain is being tended to by a Christian Science doctor. She's trying to convince him that he's really not in pain, even if he thinks he is:

"One does not feel," she explained; "there is no such thing as feeling: therefore, to speak of a non-existent thing as existent is a contradiction. Matter has no existence; nothing exists but mind; the mind cannot feel pain, it can only imagine it."

"But if it hurts, just the same--"

"It doesn't. A thing which is unreal cannot exercise the functions of reality. Pain is unreal; hence, pain cannot hurt."

In making a sweeping gesture to indicate the act of shooing the illusion of pain out of the mind, she raked her hand on a pin in her dress, said "Ouch!" and went tranquilly on with her talk. "You should never allow yourself to speak of how you feel, nor permit others to ask you how you are feeling; you should never concede that you are ill, nor permit others to talk about disease or pain or death or similar nonexistences in your presence. Such talk only encourages the mind to continue its empty imaginings." Just at that point the Stuben-madchen trod on the cat's tail, and the cat let fly a frenzy of cat-profanity. I asked, with caution:

"Is a cat's opinion about pain valuable?"

"A cat has no opinion; opinions proceed from mind only; the lower animals, being eternally perishable, have not been granted mind; without mind, opinion is impossible."

"She merely imagined she felt a pain--the cat?"
"She cannot imagine a pain, for imagining is an effect of mind; without mind, there is no imagination. A cat has no imagination."

"Then she had a real pain?"

"I have already told you there is no such thing as real pain."

"It is strange and interesting. I do wonder what was the matter with the cat. Because, there being no such thing as a real pain, and she not being able to imagine an imaginary one, it would seem that God in His pity has compensated the cat with some kind of a mysterious emotion usable when her tail is trodden on which, for the moment, joins cat and Christian in one common brotherhood of--"

She broke in with an irritated--

"Peace! The cat feels nothing, the Christian feels nothing. Your empty and foolish imaginings are profanation and blasphemy, and can do you an injury. It is wiser and better and holier to recognize and confess that there is no such thing as disease or pain or death."

That's classic.

Mark Twain seems to have little patience for the spiritual healings in Christian Science, but the real subject of his venom in Christian Science is the founder of the Church of Christ, Scientist, Mary Baker Eddy, who built up around herself a cult of personality that, not surprisingly, brought her riches beyond the dreams of avarice.

Mark Twain is a cynic book is full of irony and sarcasm. Given the context, it's easy enough to see that he's making fun of the whole thing, but it's also possible to pull sentences or even entire paragraphs out of the book to make him appear to be a firm believer in Christian Science, and I suppose that Christian Scientists will do just that, if there are any left. Chesterton is never misunderstood. He's as bold as can be when making his arguments.

While Chesterton's philosophic ruminations seem to drag on with no firm goal in sight, or with a point that's as obvious as the light of day, but to which which he stubbornly refuses to come, Mark Twain is simply telling stories. The story may have an obvious conclusion, but the details are interesting and amusing. I'd venture that Mark Twain rarely comes up with the great quotes that Chesterton tosses out routinely, but his stories are enjoyable and memorable.

Chesterton writes stories too. He has a library of fiction, including The Man Who Was Thursday and his Father Brown mysteries. And yet those works of fiction largely involve characters arguing points of philosophy, and so the effect is much the same as his non-fiction books.

Both writers have a spooky habit of predicting events in the present day. Chesterton's discussion of anarchists parallels today's discussion of terrorists. His contemporaries are what we'd today call Secular Humanists, with a few Modernists thrown in, and his discussion of them is spot on for today's liberal elite. Mark Twains treatment of Christian Science sometimes read like he's writing about the New Age (for instance A Course in Miracles) and Scientology.

In the end, I'd say that both are good writers, but there's no doubt that Mark Twain is a more enjoyable read. And if I was a teacher looking for a turn-of-the-century writer to expose my students to, I'd pick Mark Twain every day of the week (though exposing them to a few Father Brown mysteries or the first chapter of Orthodoxy might be a fun diversion).

Now, I like both writers. But my point of all this nonsense is that if Chesterton has a niche appeal, there's probably a good reason for it.

Why I renewed my K of C membership

2009-06-06T09:16:00.003-05:00

I've belonged to the Knights of Columbus for at least fifteen years. I lost count a while back. I joined for a simple reason: Dad was a member and the Knights showed up at his funeral and led a prayer. Dad was hardly an active member: I don't remember him ever going to a meeting in my life. But they showed up and prayed for him and for his family. That moved me.

So a year or so later I signed up. I bought life insurance and I went to meetings and collected money and did the work of the Church. And it was good.

Prior to joining the Knights, my pro-life position was lukewarm at best. You'd have probably called me a Cafeteria Catholic and you'd have probably been correct. The current Catechism would have just come out a few years before, and I had one, but I could never get too far in reading it (I still can't -- it's pretty dry). I did, however, look up all the sins in the index and dutifully note what the Church said about them and I tried to hold to that, but I had a lot of things to think about at the time.

About two years after joining the Knights, I decided that if I was going to be a member, I'd better agree with what they stood for. The Knights are strongly pro-life, so I adopted that attitude. I told my wife about it and, while I was at it, I decided that I didn't care much for the death penalty either (pro-life from womb to tomb, you might say). At the time euthanasia wasn't much in the news, so I honestly didn't think about it, but I felt like I had a consistent stand on the issues.

And I still do. I can say with a certain ring of truth that I became pro-life due to the Knights (except that I was never really pro-choice, I just didn't really care about it).

And yet, this year I almost didn't renew. Why? When we moved to our current house, I transferred my membership to the local council and I found the people there more interested in increasing membership than in actually believing in anything. In any organization, there's always a core of people that do all the work, and they are always overworked as a result. So, you need a vibrant recruitment process to bring in willing helpers. Maybe only ten percent of them will become members of the core team, but ten percent of 100 new members is better than ten percent of ten new members.

In my old council, we turned people away because they weren't Catholic enough. They didn't go to Mass every week, or they were on the wrong side of the abortion issue (my own vagueness about the issue was probably the minimum they'd accept). At the new place, they let anyone in as long as the check cleared. I was on the membership committee and was pushing a pro-choicer whether he really wanted to join, knowing that his money would be going to promote the pro-life agenda and the director said "well, there's no real criteria about abortion" and told the guy when to show up for initiation. He was actually more concerned that the candidate wear a tie than about his beliefs.

The Knights let me in, and I had a conversion experience as a result of my membership. Could the same happen here? It's possible, and I'm reluctant to rule it out. But it was a disappointment, to say the least, and in the following year, I slowly began to think that maybe this K of C thing was just a front to sell insurance.

There's a feeling I get in organizations sometimes: everyone wants to be "the best", but there are two ways to do it. You can work hard and exceed according to accepted criteria, or you can redefine "the best" to be what you already are. I can't give a lot of examples, but I definitely thought that my local council was falling into the latter category.

But when push came to shove, I decided that I should renew my membership. I should point out that at neither parish would you find strong preaching on the hard subjects (example, there are precious few sermons on "sin"), so I can't really blame the people in the council if carry that forward into the membership process. And yet, there are good Knights in my current council. In the end, I decided that I just can't leave. I don't have the time now, but perhaps one of these months I'll take an active role and try to change the Knights for the better from the inside. Maybe.

Mary Magdalene

2009-06-01T21:57:00.004-05:00

There used to be a show on TV called Millenium. It was by the same happy folks who brought you The X-Files. NBC's Chiller Network is running the shows over and over again (sequentially). The show dealt with religious themes, usually doomsday cults and the like, but occasionally it had a serious topic and tried to deal with it seriously. There was an episode called "Somehow Satan Got Behind Me" which dealt with the ways that demons take souls to Hell. Kind of like Screwtape Letters. It was silly, partly due to the cheapo costumes (especially now, viewing it ten years later), but it was thought provoking.

Since the show dealt with a shadowy group called "The Millenium Group" which seemed to have it's hands in every major world event, it naturally dealt with conspiracy. And since it dealt with conspiracy, it somewhat naturally took a sympathetic view of Gnostic thought. There was a show called "Anamnesis" which was totally Gnostic. It dealt with a young girl who's been having visions of "Mary". One of the characters on the show, Lara Means, played by Kristin Cloke, who might be the worst actress I've ever seen on TV -- including guests on Ricki Lake -- identified the vision as being not the Virgin Mary, but Mary Magdalene. It's not clear why Mary Magdalene is appearing to this girl, but it had a profound effect on the girl. Lara turns out to be into the whole Gnostic thing herself.

In the clip below, the girl has just stormed out of a generic Christian church after refusing to be baptized. She sees a vision of Mary Magdalene and cries "Mother, forgive them. They know not what they do." Lara Means proceeds to lecture Catherine Black about how Mary Magdalene had been mistreated by the Church.

Except the Church never really did claim Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. As near as I can tell, the Church Fathers considered her "unchaste" which could be a code for being a prostitute and Pope Gregory called her a "sinful woman" which may or may not include prostitution. The only thing that the Bible directly says about her is that she had seven demons, which could conceivably lead one to an unchaste life. Mary Magdalen is sometimes associated with the woman in Luke's Gospel, who pours an alabastar jar of perfumed oil over Jesus' head and washes His feet with her tears. That woman is identified as "a sinner".

In mediaval art, Mary Magdelan is often shown somewhat wanton by the standards of the day, with her long hair flowing over her shoulders instead of being primly tucked under her bonnet (in olden days a glimpse of stocking...). So that's probably the image that they had of her as well. It wasn't an official proclamation about Mary Magdalen's career, but I get it: it was a commonly held perception and no one in the Church did anything to set the record straight.

Part of me wants to ask "But so what?" The Church also says she's a saint. "The Apostles of the Apostles" is how she's known. Regardless of what state she started in, Jesus redeemed her. Shouldn't we be glad? I know I am. Jesus has a habit of doing that.

When I see clips like the one above, I'm struck by how far removed the concepts of "forgiveness" or "redemption" are from everyday life. Once a hooker, always a hooker, seems to be the rule. But the idea of Christian salvation is that it doesn't matter where you start, but where you finish. And that counts both ways. The worst murderer in the world can have a conversion of heart and be saved, and praise God for His mercy! But by the same token, a living saint can, in his old age, turn to a life of sin, or possibly become consumed with pride, and he might lose his soul.

I don't want to besmirch anyone's reputation. I don't know what Mary Magdalen was before her conversion. It's none of my concern. But if Jesus came for tax collectors and prostitutes -- regardless if that company included Mary Magdalene -- then I hold out hope those people were saved and are in heaven now. And I hope that everyone will be saved (including me and my family and all my friends) by coming to know and love Jesus and we'll all join that crew someday.

And that makes me happy.

Keeping the Streets Safe in San Diego

2009-05-31T19:01:00.002-05:00

Step away from the Bible and no one gets hurt.

This is a pretty classic case of bureaucrats oversteping their authority. Local governments get so wrapped up in making life "better" they eventually move from trying to stop illegal or unsafe activity to clamping down on what they perceive as the cause of illegal or unsafe activity.

In this case, it's pretty clear. They claim that the Bible studies were causing over-parking on the street. So they can put up signs that restrict parking on the street and write tickets or tow cars if the signs are disobeyed. But instead they want to clamp down on the cause of the over-parking, which seems to be unconstitutional, to me.

You see the same thing with traffic laws against talking on a cell phone. It's already against the law to drive recklessly, but now it's REALLY against the law if you're on the phone.

It makes no sense to me.

In true weasel fashion, now the city is backing down. Hey, I believe in law and order. If it's illegal to have a Bible study at home, then clap the offenders in jail and take them in. I'm sure Bill O'Reilly will be happy to report it on TV. The entire city, possibly the entire country, will sleep easier at night knowing that these dangerous perps are off the streets and tourist offices everywhere will be able to recommend as "Safe" the greater San Diego area once again. If not, then leave them alone. In the meantime, they could have saved themselves a bunch of trouble by putting up a "parking for residents only" sign and gasing up the tow trucks.

Is NBC Holding a Grudge?

2009-05-30T07:40:00.003-05:00

Last night Dateline NBC had this story to tell. It's a story about a young woman whose husband was cheating on her and, when she turned up dead, the husband immediately fell under suspicion. To add to the creepy nature of the story, she kept detailed journals in which she predicted her death. Sound pretty typical for crime investigation type shows, except that the woman, her husband and both of their families, and possibly even her husband's mistress were all Mormons.

Mormonism was almost the star of the show. Mormon beliefs were expounded and each segment of the show was prefaced with a quote from either the Book of Mormon or the Doctrine and Covenant. At one point, the announcer solemnly intoned that both the woman and her husband had been divorced twice, in a religion that frowns on divorce. It didn't imply that being a Mormon caused her husband to kill her, or that being a Mormon caused her to kill herself (the facts of the case are not clear), but it did seem to glory in the fact that these two Mormons, who were very devout, were having marital and emotional problems.

It was a strange show. I don't remember ever seeing a show that spent so much time discussing the religious views of a suspected criminal unless the crime was committed as a result of his views (ie, Islamic terrorism, or Northern Ireland's Troubles). In this case, the woman seemed to have visions of her death, which were tied in with her Mormon faith, so it's kind of relevant, but the constant quotes from the Mormon scriptures seemed a little over the top. Coming on the heels of California's Supreme Court upholding Proposition 8, which defined marriage as only between a man and a woman, and the Mormon Church's part in that crusade, I couldn't help but wonder if someone at NBC was trying to get back at them. I don't know why the Mormon Church took the brunt of the gay activist outrage in California, and I don't know why NBC would hold that against them, but the timing seems supect. Mostly NBC just produces stories about the life and times of young people in New York City. I'm surprised the producers and writers have even heard about Mormons.

I don't know that I'd go so far as to call this a hatchet-job on the part of NBC. But I guess we can add Mormonism to the list of "last acceptable prejudice" -- along with "white people", "Christians", "Catholics", "men" and "French People" -- that professional complainers talk about.

I kind of like these investigative shows. But in every show there's an uncomfortable segment of the interview when a reporter asks something like "were you sad when your son/daughter died"? And they seriously reflect on the answer when the parent says "yes". It always reminds me of The Daily Show when Steven Colbert was interviewing some old guy who sold mattresses called "the Mattress King" about some outrage he suffered. It went something like this.

Mattress King: I've been screwed and tattooed on this deal!
Colbert: How old are you?
Mattress King: I'm 85 years old.
Colbert: Do you think that it's right that an 85 year old man would be screwed and tattooed like this?
Mattress King: No, I don't!

Eventually all the shows degenerate to that level of dialog. But the investigative process is interesting.

Learning Latin, part II

2009-05-29T21:05:00.002-05:00

My attempts to learn Latin still aren't going so well, but after a lot of study I can mostly understand what this guy's saying.

Classic.

The Liturgy in a Word.

2009-05-25T08:40:00.005-05:00

I wanted to pick up an icon or two so I went back to St. Basil The Great in Irving, which has a little Byzantine shop open after Divine Liturgy. Since I'm still learning about the liturgy, I showed up in time for Third Hour and Divine Liturgy. This is the third Byzantine liturgy I've been to, so I'm starting to get the hang of it. If anyone's curious about how the liturgy goes, there's an online guide here.

But while I was at the Byzantine Liturgy yesterday, I realized that the different liturgies that I've been able to attend can be summarized in a single word. The Ordinary Form can be summarized by the word "community", the Extraordinary Form can be summarized by the word "repentance" and the Byzantine liturgy can be summarized by the word "gratitude". (I've been to the Maronite rite as well, but only on Christmas and Easter and I'm having a hard time summarizing it in the same way.) Since the Latin rite is more familiar to most people, I'll summarize those first.

The Ordinary Form was introduced to the world along with a new trend in church architecture that moved the altar towards the center of the church with seats fanned around it. The new architecture also saw a removal of a lot of artwork and other distraction. Combined with the snappy tunes accompanied with guitar, bass and drums, and the ubiquitous presence of lay "ministers" (lectors, cantors, Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion) the effect is clearly an emphasis on community. Now, to address the other two concepts above, the ordinary form does include repentence for sins and gratitude for the gifts given by God, but except for the penitential rite, the whole focus is in "we" not "I".

The Extraordinary form is, from the very beginning, emphasizes penance and unworthiness. I mentioned before that at the start of the Mass, the priest won't even approach the altar unil he's been purified through prayer. The people strike their breasts in a form of self-mortification. The Extraordinary form also contains elements of thanksgiving and community, but from the rubrics to the language used, the clear emphasis is on the mercy of God and the need for mercy.

Everytime I go to the Byzantine rite, I have a desire to read the Fathers of the Church afterwards. While all three liturgies express a gratitude for the gifts of God, His mercy, and the Redemption of the cross, the Byzantine rite also expresses gratitude for the teachings of the Church. Specifically, the apostles, who wrote the New Testement, and the Church Fathers who established the early traditions and faith. That does seem unique to me, I don't really remember being at a Latin Rite Mass and hearing how fortunate we are to have the Bible, or the writings of the School of Alexandria or any of the other Fathers. Regarding penance, the Byzantine Divine Liturgy probably has more invocations of "Lord have mercy" than anything else I've ever seen and there's a feeling of community as well in the way the parish comes together to break their fast, but the main thing that jumps out at me, is the frank gratitude for the teachings of the Church.

In each case, notice that the Church is essential. Church provides a sense of community to the faithful, the Church is the mechanism by which sins are forgiven, and the Church preserves the teachings of the apostles and fathers.

Lex Orandi Lex Credendi -- the way we pray reflects what we believe. It's hard to reflect a complex theology in a single gesture, so having these different emphases in different rites is a good thing, but unfortunately not everyone has the opportunity to experience these different liturgies. There's not much I can do about that, except try to spread this information as well as I can. Through this crap blog, for instance, but also try to emphasize all of these points when I work with others in RCIA and other places.

Interesting site

2009-05-23T12:08:00.000-05:00

Catholic Liturgical Library

Chesterton and Birds

2009-05-23T10:00:00.005-05:00

In the opening of The Everlasting Man, Chesterton tries to draw a distinction between man and the rest of the animals. As he puts it you can dig down far enough to find a painting of a reindeer done by a man, but you'd have to dig much farther to find a painting of a man done by a reindeer. He makes the point that art is something that only man does. A monkey does not paint badly and a man paint well. A monkey does not paint at all, and it's inconceivable that it ever would. Turning to the subject of birds, he has this to say.

For the very fact that birds do build nests is one of those similarities that sharpen the startling difference. The very fact that a bird can get as far as building a nest, and cannot get any farther, proves that be has not a mind as man has a mind; it proves it more completely than if he built nothing at all. If he built nothing at all, he might possibly be a philosopher of the Quietist or Buddhist school, indifferent to all but the mind within. But when he builds as he does build and is satisfied and sings aloud with satisfaction, then we know there is really an invisible veil like a pane of glass between him and us, like the window on which a bird will beat in vain. But suppose our abstract onlooker saw one of the birds begin to build as men build. Suppose in an incredibly short space of time there were seven styles of architecture for one style of nest. Suppose the bird carefully selected forked twigs and pointed leaves to express the piercing piety of Gothic, but turned to broad foliage and black mud when he sought in a darker mood to call up the heavy columns of Bel and Ashtaroth; making his nest indeed one of the hanging gardens of Babylon. Suppose the bird made little clay statues of birds celebrated in letters or politics and stuck them up in front of the nest. Suppose that one bird out of a thousand birds began to do one of the thousand things that man bad already done even in the morning of the world; and we can be quite certain that the onlooker would not regard such a bird as a mere evolutionary variety of the other birds; he would regard it as a very fearful wild-fowl indeed; possibly as a bird of ill-omen, certainly as an omen. That bird would tell the augurs, not of something that would happen, but of something that had happened. That something would be the appearance of a mind with a new dimension of depth; a mind like that of man. If there be no God, no other mind could conceivably have foreseen it.

However, there is one sort of bird that does seem to have an artistic side. The bowerbirds of New Guinea and Australia construct elaborate bowers as part of an even more elaborate mating ritual. Their constructions seem to be purely asthetic: the bowers are not nests, the male birds do not help raise the young so the ability to make a bower does not indicate an ability to feed or protect a family. The English nature show host David Attenborough did a show on this which I saw on PBS a few years back. Here's a clip.

So does this destroy Chesterton's argument? At first glance, it does. These birds are not celebrating famous birds of old, as Chesterton describes, but they certainly seem to have a creative streak. But then why is the bowerbird unique? The Darwinian point would seem to be that in New Guinea and Australia are isolated from everywhere else, these animals were free to evolve in a different direction. But then how did the creative spark jump to Africa and infect early humans but not the rest of the great apes? It's hard to imagine something evolving in a set group of birds, then evolving independently in a completely different type of animal. And another point is that bowerbirds are made up of a number of species, whereas man is alone in the taxonomy charts. Why does this creativity infect a number of bird species but only one simian species? Furthermore, there's no evidence I'm aware of that other animals are evolving the same characteristics. No evidence of chimpanzees constructing rude huts where they used to simply sit under a tree, nor do we see today, as Chesterton puts it, a cat "scratch on the wall a vindictive caricature of the dog".

Now, I'm not a strict creationist. I tend to follow the maxim "evolution stops at the neck". God can create the plants and creatures of the Earth however He sees fit. But I do agree with Chesterton's argument that there's something wildly different about Man, as compared to the other animals. He says in the same chapter.

The simplest truth about man is that he is a very strange being; almost in the sense of being a stranger on the earth. In all sobriety, he has much more of the external appearance of one bringing alien habits from another land than of a mere growth of this one. He has an unfair advantage and an unfair disadvantage. He cannot sleep in his own skin; he cannot trust his own instincts. He is at once a creator moving miraculous hands and fingers and a kind of cripple. He is wrapped in artificial bandages called clothes; he is propped on artificial crutches called furniture. His mind has the same doubtful liberties and the same wild limitations. Alone among the animals, he is shaken with the beautiful madness called laughter; as if he had caught sight of some secret in the very shape of the universe hidden from the universe itself. Alone among the animals he feels the need of averting his thoughts from the root realities of his own bodily being; of hiding them as in the presence of some higher possibility which creates the mystery of shame. Whether we raise these things as natural to man or abuse them as artificial in nature, they remain in the same sense unique.

Language, art, tool making, culture, civilization are all things that seem to separate man from the animals (the exception of bowerbirds, and the "tools" used by apes and birds, such as using sticks to get insects and grubs out of holes noted). And as far as we can tell, then existed from the first moments of man.

In religious circles, that can simply be attributed to the rational, immortal soul. In other circles, that may seem to be taking the easy way out: you can't prove it or disprove it. But it does seem to explain a lot.

Our Un-serious Age

2009-05-20T21:46:00.002-05:00

In an earlier post, I referred to Mr. John Salza's website where he talks about a lot of stuff, but specifically his Masonic past. Go take another look at it. For the most part, Mr. Salza is not concerned with the various conspiracy theories swirling around the Masons. In his EWTN interview, he talks about how Masons brought down the Supreme Court, eventually leading to a lot of the current political problems in the US, but that doesn't seem to occupy the central complaint about the Masons, of which he seems to have two. 1) That Masons teach indifferentialism, claiming that all religions are equally valid and 2) that the Masonic initiation consists of self-cursing oaths, like "may my eyes be gouged out and my throat cut if I ever reveal these secrets."

Now I'm not a Mason, nor have I ever met one. So I'm unprepared to argue with his statements. But as I read them, I can hear the defense that your average Mason would surely make: that they don't really mean those things. They may say them, but come on!

But to Mr. Salza, who's a lawyer I might point out and so presumably sensitive to written terms and contracts, if you say them, you surely mean them. Even if you don't really mean them, you said them so you're still bound by them.

I've been thinking alot about that lately and I've come to the conclusion that it points out something about the world today. I used to always hear that a man's word was his bond, but now there seems to be an accepted, even an expected, amount of misdirection and fudging when it comes to making a statement.

In the 2004 Presidential election, John Kerry was famously vague about his opinions about the Iraqi war. One day he kind-of-supported it, one day he mostly-opposed it. One day he held a news conference to settle the question once and for all, then by the next day he's seemingly contradicted that once-and-for-all speech. (at least that's how I remember it) In the end, his supporters simply had to hope that he was lying to them: regardless of what he said, he really opposed the war and would end it when elected.

Why prevaricate like that? Well, if he was vague enough he might convince people to vote for him who might not vote for him. And he never really said he WOULD end the war, nor did he definitely state he WOULDN'T. So no one could really accuse him of lying, but it seemed shady. It seemed like he was trying to con people into voting for him. Which, of course, he was. And it didn't work, because no one knew what he was talking about (few knew what W. was talking about either, but that might be due to his speech impediment).

So, I think the Masons can be forgiven for being surprised if someone actually takes their blood oaths seriously. After all, no one takes that stuff seriously, do they?

Well, what happens when someone does? Masonic oaths are hardly serious. Mr. Salza betrayed every one of them in public and his eyeballs and other body parts are still intact. But some things are serious, and you can generate a lot of bad feelings if you betray that seriousness.

I think a lot of this is in play with the current split in the Catholic Church over abortion. Everyone says they are against it. But what if it's like that Masonic oath? Do their political allies hope that they are lying when they say that they are opposed to abortion? Perhaps that's how we ended up with Catholic Charities in Virginia driving and underaged girl to get an abortion. The organization had a strong statement about valuing life, but did they really take that seriously? Suppose the workers signed onto that statement when they hired in to Catholic Charities. Did they think what they were signing in anyway affected how they were to act with regards to "reproductive health"? Ironically, the only ones who took that seriously were the federal bureaucrats who write the checks for Catholic Charities. (That was in the former administration.) Sure, after the story got out, everyone said the right things, but was it with a wink and a nod to their political masters?

I wonder if that's not also going on with the Notre Dame saga (which is hardly unique to Notre Dame). Fr. Jenkins may say he's pro-life, but is he really? I imagine that if you travel very long in the world of academia as a well-known pro-lifer, you're going to be sitting alone at the banquet table. So do they all just assume that he's just reading the company line, which does not necessarily reflect his own opinion?

Fr. Jenkins fellow academics have to hope that he's lying when he says he's pro-life. The rest of us have to hope that he's lying when he honors a pro-abortion president with an honorary degree.

I don't know how often I've heard people say "I just want someone who tells the truth. I may not like it, but I'll respect it." That sounds good and people probably believe it, but it's almost never true. I hear about it for the next week when someone actually does tell them the truth. (And I've learned by now not to point out their inconsistency). They want people to tell the truth, but only if it's what they want to hear. I don't know if that's where it starts, wanting to say something but not wanting to offend or be challenged. In the case of politicians, I'm sure that part of it is that it's unacceptable for politicians to change their minds. Someone can have an opinion today and his opponent will drag out a speech he made twenty years ago that's opposite and use it as an example of waffling. So if they don't take a firm stand ever, they can't be accused of being inconsistent.

As Christians, we believe in original sin, and this is a brilliant example of it. But I don't know that at the root people are maliciously trying to deceive in most cases. To me, it seems more like a nihilistic disregard for their word. It seems that an oath is only good until further notice, and facts have been replaced by spin and all contracts are subject to revision. And the strange thing is that everyone is doing it, not just paid liers like politicians and used car salesmen.

Fr. Terra on Notre Dame and Scandal

2009-05-17T20:59:00.003-05:00

I haven't written about Obama's speech at Notre Dame. I have a lot to say about it, but whenever I try to write anything down it sounds childish and half-baked. And it's over now, so I guess I'm too late. But Fr. Terra, the local FSSP priest who offers Mass in the Extraordinary Form in Dallas, had a little bit to say about it. (Mostly about the scandal.) You can hear more of his sermons here.

Note the sign of the cross after the sermon. He begins with a sign of the cross as well. The readings are repeated in English, the goes right to the sermon. I kind of like the sign of the cross before and after the sermon. It adds something to the message. It also adds gravitas. So even when he cracks a joke to make a point, it still feels holy or sacramental, if that's an appropriate word to use.

Who is Sunday?

2009-05-16T09:16:00.003-05:00

I just finished watching this season of Lost. I think this was one of the best seasons and I can't wait to see how it wraps up next year. I could go on for pages about all the twists and turns, but instead I'll recommend you go to ABC's website and watch it yourself. I can't tell you the story, anyway, because it's not over yet. Lost continuously retraces its steps, highlighting the significance of details that were previously thought to be insignificant. One of the neat-o side effects of the writer's strike last year is that ABC started running what they called "enhanced" episode's of Lost, with little explanatory notes at the bottom of the screen explaining things the viewer might not have ordinarily noticed.

However, while watching the season finale, I couldn't help but be reminded of G.K. Chesterton's masterpiece The Man Who Was Thursday. It's a creepy book. The beginning of it deals with anarchists, a scourge of Chesterton's day which are disturbingly reminiscent of terrorists, a scourge of our own day. (The Economist did a piece about the relationship between terrorists and anarchists in 2005. Go read it.) Towards the end of the story, there is page after page of metaphysical discussion that leaves me with a headache, and yet the end is worth the price of the book, plus the book setting next to it on the shelf.

I don't care about spoiling the book, so I'll give a quick run-down. The book opens with a character brooding on the injustices of life, only to be met by a cop who recruits him to a police task force that's fighting anarchy at it's source. The cop desribes a seedy underbelly of the anarchist movement which is essentially a nihilistic philosophy with no political aims, but merely a desire to end life itself. Our intrepid hero is ushered into a dark room where an unseen man hires him and makes several ominous predictions.

Undercover, our hero becomes involved with an anarchist organization led by seven men. For the purposes of secrecy, they each have a code-name of a day of the week. Our hero gets elected by an anarchist society ("anarchist society" being one of those delicious paradoxes) as the new "Thursday", hence the title of the book. As he meets up with this secret circle, he begins to plot how to arrest them all, including the leader, "Sunday". Who, for some reason, he's afraid of at first sight.

Over the course of a few chapters it becomes obvious that all the members, except Sunday, are also cops working undercover. They've all had the same strange encounter with a man in the dark room. And they're all undercover -- in disguise of some sort. They band together, and begin to hunt Sunday down. During the chase, they describe their feelings about him. It seems that each has a very different feeling. One sees Sunday as almost a part of nature. One sees him as the sun or the moon. But none of them see him as quite human. And most agree that he's surely the devil because of his involvement with the anarchist movement.

Only except when they corner him, Sunday reveals that he was the man in the dark room. So even Sunday is part of the police. The anarchy angle was a sham, all along. The penultimate scene is at Sunday's home where they ask him who he really is and he reveals himself as "the Peace of God" then disappears.

The subtitle of The Man Who Was Thursday is A Nightmare and Chesterton appealed to that subtitle to avoid revealing any hidden meaning to the book. Especially the last two scenes which are unworldly and dreamlike. And yet, just like a real dream, there are enough elements that make sense and enough that don't make sense that a person can't help but try to put the clues together in a neat pattern.

So who's Sunday? What's this "Peace of God" stuff? Is Chesterton proposing a fourth member of the Trinity? The Father, Son, Holy Spirit and Peace? Would God -- who is Truth itself -- deliberately deceive people? Is Sunday really a devil, having fun with all the earnest people who care deeply about things that don't really matter? Is Sunday some sort of primordal being who's basically good -- but slightly mischievious -- like Tolkein's Tom Bombadil? Is Sunday merely a physical representation of the mystery of life and the other six men (the other "days") are different ways that people search for the answers to that mystery, with the disguises they wear representing the way we lie to ourselves so that we don't have to face harsh realities of right and wrong? Is Sunday sent from God to lead the other men through a protracted parable to teach them a lesson? If so, what's the lesson? And what's the connection with the anarchists?

I can't say. I don't know. I have my opinions, but I'm not sure enough about them just yet. You'll have to read it.

As to what this has to do with Lost, the end of last season involved a mysterious person on the Island named Jacob. There's another mysterious person on the Island who is not named. These two seem to be immortal, and possibly Jacob is God and the other is Satan. Or maybe it's Jacob and Esau from the Bible. Or maybe it's none of that. But these two seem to work throughout history, arriving at critical times to nudge people along, to what purpose is unknown. The mystery of who these poeple are and what they are doing is reminiscent of Chesterton's book. There's little else in common, except the characters never quite act the way you'd think they would, if they were who you thought they were.

Unity

2009-05-08T08:01:00.004-05:00

One of those dumb coincidences happened last night. My wife and I were at a restaurant/bar last night with a live entertainer: one guy singer/guitar player. He had a thing for the Beatles, and in a short period of time ran through a medley of a dozen Beatles songs and eventually sang all of John Lennon's Imagine. He wasn't that good, so Jenny and I soon left and looked for a more entertaining option. While in the car, we heard Creed's song One. Both songs sing about the joys of unity.

Imagine:

You may think I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one.
I hope some day you will join us,
And the world may live as one.

One:

The world is headed for mutiny
When all we need is unity.
We may rise and fall, but in the end
We meet our fate together.

One, oh one,
The only way is one.
...

The rest of "One" speaks of frustration and anger, so there are clear differences in the tone, but the goal between the two songs seems to be the same: one world united. But I doubt that Scott Stapp and John Lennon would agree on much else. Stapp is a Christian, though possibly a repressed Christian according to interviews I've seen. His father raised a pretty strictly religious household. That didn't prevent Stapp from getting into trouble, of course, but Creed's lyrics are mostly religious in nature and speak of redemption, punishment, faith and hope. Stapp would apparently prefer that everyone share his view of humanity and God, bringing unity to mankind.

John Lennon flitted back and forth between Christianity, Eastern religions, atheism and agnosticism. The song "Imagine" is specifically about banishing God, material wants, patriotism and everything else that might cause division from the mind so that, with nothing to fight over, we may "live as one".

Another point of agreement that Mr. Lennon and Mr. Stapp might have -- and I do feel somewhat profane mentioning those two in the same sentence -- is that the other side has to change. Note that there's no sense of compromise in Mr. Lennon's song. He clearly states that a precondition for living in peace is that "you will join us". Mr. Stapp expresses a feeling of anger and loneliness, presumably because the great unwashed don't share his views. To Lennon's credit, he clearly spells out what he wants you to think. Stapp is more vague, in the manner of youth trying to be profound without a clearly spelled out philosophy to be profound about. He wants unity, but never really says what that unity will consist of. Will we all belong the Assemblies of God?

Chesterton spoke about unity and diversity. I'm on vacation so I don't my books with me (I know... priorities) but he contrasted the Eastern ideal of unity through non-existence with the Western ideal of individuality. Basically, in Eastern meditation, the goal is to completely suppress your own identity, at which point you will achieve perfect unity with all of creation, including God, or the Force or the life-giving Energy, depedending on your flavor of Eastern religion (and how well you liked Star Wars). In Western thought, God created us all as individuals, and God is personal, and God even became a human so that he might know us better. Chesterton speaks of the Trinity as an example. The Three Persons are "one" in the sense that they are all the same God, but they are distinct persons.

He has a startling line about God creating the world so that He may love it and it may love him, comparing it to a person "chopping his arm off so he can shake hands with it". Or something like that.

Perhaps wars and anger and hatred are not caused by disagreements over God, or nationalism, or pursuit of material goods, but instead started due to an over-eager desire to "be one" with your neighbors. In other words, perhaps John Lennon while trying to preach peace and kindness was actually fomenting armed struggle. If people can't see your worldview on their own, maybe they need more pursuation at the point of a gun?

Chesterton was a big fan of the messiness of life. People don't like it, but their neighbors are annoying and their families are unbearable and the government is corrupt and their coworkers are incompetent. Is that who you want to be united with? However, living in the rough tumble of the world, with barking dogs and people who eat with the mouths open and smelly kids is what we're called to do. Chesterton didn't really say you should love everyone as they are. I'd say he expected you to hate them and love them at the same time. But it was the adventure and chaos of disunity that he especially enjoyed.

Ut Unum Sint. As Christians, we're called to be "one". Jesus also promised to set a house of five against each other, two against three and three against two. I tend to agree with Lennon, Stapp and even Chesterton. There should be encouragements to join one side or the other. There should be conflicts between believers and nonbelievers. And between believers who disagree about what they believe in. There should be debate and discussion, in a charitable manner, of course. Eventually the truth will win out. And in order to ensure that outcome, it's important that people be taught clearly what the truth is. Mr. Stapp won't win any converts to unity with his song, because no one listening to that song will be challenged to think about his behavior. Everyone listing to One will assume that Creed wrote that song just for him or her. Imagine, on the other hand leaves no amiguity and you can agree or disagree with it, and at the end of the day someone will either be converted to that philosophy or against it.

EWTN 5/3/09 Good Shepherd Homily

2009-05-04T22:00:00.003-05:00

Pretty strong stuff here from Father Dominic Mary.

I'm only posting a clip of it, due to Blogger's 100MB restrictions. You can listen to all of it (for the next few days, anyway at EWTN's site). Before the clip starts, he's talking about the difference between a shepherd and a hireling. During the part I posted, he's explaining the "hireling" part. Following this clip, he mentions that it was Worldwide Vocation Day and asks for prayers in support of more vocations.

St. Sophia, The Colony, TX

2009-05-03T14:55:00.012-05:00

I made it over to St. Sophia this morning for Mass. St. Sophia is a Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, which practices the Byzantine Rite. This is the second Byzantine Divine Liturgy I've been to, the other one being St Basil the Great in Irving, TX, which I talked about here and here.

Here we see the view of the church from the back, showing the Iconostasis. The church, as a whole, is not as ornate as St. Basil's is, but it's still pretty. You can see that each pew has been stuffed with various papers. There are papers containing this Sunday's readings, papers with the standard prayers and also translations of the prayers into English (the main language is Ukrainian). I'd like to point out something in the 3rd pew from the front, on the right. In with all those papers in this pew is a small, blue, hard-cover book. I sat in the next pew back and after a while I reached forward and grabbed that book to see what it was. It's just another "missal" type book ("missal" is a Latin term, so it's not called that, but that's what it is). Apparently, that's someone's spot. A couple came in and sat in front of me and the wife immediately noticed that the book was missing. After trying to control herself for a minute, she started hectoring her husband to go to another pew to grab another book. The old man took on a defeated look and started to get up when I leaned forward and said "Is this what you're looking for?" She asked if I needed it, and I frankly said "I don't know" but indicated I could live without it and gave it to her. Then peace resumed.

The Icons are quite nice. Here we see St. Sophia, who the parish is named after, along with her children Faith, Hope and Charity.

"Sophia", of course, means "Wisdom". Faith, Hope and Charity coming out of Wisdom is certainly something to meditate on.

As is the case at St. Basil the Great, the church is basically a square. From my discussion at St. Basil, that represents the four-corners of the world. However, St. Sophia doesn't have stars painted on the ceiling or other obvious references to that symbolism.

I liked the Iconostasis. Here is the Royal Door. Shown are icons of the four evangelists and Mary and Gabriel, with Gabriel facing Mary, as in the Annunciation.

Next we see the Dormition of the Theotokos.

"Dormition" is only applied to Mary. It is the "falling asleep" before her body was assumed into Heaven. In the icon, you see the apostles and Fathers of the Church bowing to Mary in respect. The apostle on the left seems to be leaning in, as if to hear her last words. He also is swinging a thurifur, the insense representing our prayers. The candle in front of the bed on which Mary lies may represent the faith and hope in God's help to those that pray to God and the Saints (at least, that's what I read about burning candles in front of icons).

The apostles are shown in colored robes. The Fathers of the Church are shown wearing black crosses on white stoles or sashes.

In the background, Jesus is shown holding the soul of Mary, dressed in white. He seems to be presenting her to the world. Surrounding Jesus are angels that also adore her. Note the cool Seraphim at the top.

Above Mary's head is "MP OY", or probably Mu Rho Omicron Upsilon. Regardless, it stands for "Mother of God" and is drawn on all icons of the Theotokos.

Here is The Meeting, or the Presentation of Jesus.
Here Mary is shown presenting Jesus to Simeon, an old man who was told he would not die until he saw the Christ (Luke 2:28-25). Also here is Anna, who likewise identified Jesus. She's shown here holding a scroll which reads "This child has created Heaven and Earth." Note Joseph's appearance. He looks like he's getting up there, himself. According to legend, for instance in the Protoevangelium of James, Joseph was an elderly man when he took Mary as his wife. In fact, Mary was a consecrated Virgin and so only someone like Joseph, who already had a family, would be a suitable spouse for her. That's one of the possible meanings of "brethren" when applied to relatives of Jesus.

I've noticed that whenever I see icons in an Eastern or Western church, they are always the same: painted on wood with a clear coating to protect them from handling. Icons are a window to Heaven, and people will touch or kiss them as they pray to the people depicted in the icons. On the icons at St. Sophia, I noticed several lipstick marks left behind by women kissing the feet of Jesus or the Theotokos. I found myself drawn to a couple of the icons and touched them myself. I'm not sure I understand them yet, but it felt good to look at them and touch them as I said a prayer.

When I was at St. Basil, I was assured that the Stations of the cross are a Latin thing, not to be found in Eastern Churches. However, St. Sophia has a fine set of the Stations of the Cross, done in Western style. It's probably a Latin influence, possibly in this Church because it's in the heart of Western Rite catholicism.

Veronica is shown here wiping the face of Jesus. In her hand is the cloth with the Holy Face on it.

As far as the Liturgy goes, it was slightly different from St. Basil. St. Sophia uses the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, while St. Basil might use the Liturgy of St. Basil. The main difference is that St. Sophia's liturgy is primarily in Ukrainian. The Divine Liturgy I attended was bi-lingual with some of the priest's parts in English but all of the congregation's parts in Ukrainian. I don't speak Ukrainian. Ukrainian is written in Cyrillic. I can't read Cyrillic. However, all is not lost. In the pews are booklets with a transliteration of the Divine Liturgy in Ukrainian. I can mostly read that, as it's just the Ukrainian words spelled out, phonics-style, in English.

The other difference is that there weren't the processions with the Bible at the Liturgy of the Word, nor the Eucharist at the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

Other differences I noticed are that that trisagion, the thrice-holy prayer or hymn, which is the phrase "Holy God, Holy Immortal One, Holy Mighty One, have mercy on us" (which will be familiar to those who pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy) was not prayed nearly as much. Nor was another prayer to the Theotokos:

It is truly proper to glorify you, who have borne God, the ever-blessed and immaculate and the Mother of our God. More honorable than the Cherubim and beyond compare more glorious than the Seraphim, who, a Virgin, gave birth to God the Word, you, truly the Mother of God, we magnify.

That was only prayed once, but at St. Basil I remember hearing that, or something very similar to it, several times.

As far as Ukrainian goes, I've said before that the language used in the Liturgy doesn't much matter to me. I like the Latin Mass, but not because it's in Latin. However, there is a cool-ness to having Liturgy in a historically significant language. Since Latin was the main language of the Western Church for centuries, it's kind of cool to hear it. Similarly hearing Aramaic in the Maronite rite is kind of cool. As far as I can tell, the liturgical language in many of the Byzantine rites is Church Slavonic. Ukrainian is somewhat related to Church Slavonic, though possibly in a distant way like French and Latin, so it's kind of neat to hear it. It's a buzzy language with a lot of v's and z's and hard th's, and it sounds ancient and foreign.

I spent some time after the Liturgy chatting with the parishioners. They are a friendly bunch and many know all about St. Basil, and they seemed to be not saying something about it. Possibly some minor rivalry between the Ruthenians and the Ukrainians, or something else at work. I don't know enough about the Eastern Churches to pick up on liberal-vs-conservative or other internecine conflicts.

I must admit that the icons and Divine Liturgy are growing on me. I hope to visit both churches again soon.

Interview with Father Corapi

2009-05-03T12:32:00.002-05:00

At the National Catholic Register.

He's on The Abundant Life tomorrow (Monday, 5/4) on EWTN at 9PM Central.

The Message of the Mass

2009-05-02T08:28:00.006-05:00

Elizabeth Lev is an art historian and host of EWTN's Catholic Canvas. As an added bit of trivia, I recently read that she's the daughter of Mary Ann Glendon, the former US ambassador to the Vatican, who recently made news by turning down an award from Notre Dame in protest of Obama's upcoming speed and honorary degree.

Anyway, in a recent episode of Catholic Canvas, she talked about Caravaggio's painting The Entombment of Christ. It's interesting that this was originally intended as an altar piece. She mentions how the arm of Christ points down, toward where the altar would be. The Body of Christ in the painting would appear behind the priest has he raised the Body of Christ at the consecration.

"The death of Christ and the liturgy taking place would be united as if in the same and single moment of time." That is, of course, the essence of the Mass. It makes present, in an unbloody manner, sacrifice on Calvary.

Once again, I'm amazed at the meaning and symbolism that is present in Christian art. I sometimes wonder how the homilies I hear would be different if the homilists had artwork like this in the Church, as inspiration, or as an exercise in catechesis.

Why I'm not a big fan of Scriptural Apologetics

2009-04-29T20:07:00.002-05:00

Meet John Martignoni, founder of the Bible Christian Society. And while you're at it, please get to know Tim Staples and John Salza. (John Salza is also a famous ex-Mason, so if you have a hankering to read about Freemasons or watch a show about Masons and the Catholic Church, he can help you out there as well.) These guys are very impressive. Their knowledge of scripture and of common Protestant objections to Catholic positions is amazing. And yet there's something about Scriptural Apologetics that leaves me cold.

I know that an important element of successful argument is to meet people where they are. So if you're arguing with a sola scriptura crowd, you can only use the scripture. However, the Catholic Church does not base it's teachings on the principal of sola scriptura. The Catholic Church relies on three things: Scripture, Sacred Tradition and Magesterial Teaching. No one of which can be incompatible with the others. So by stressing the Biblical origins of what the Catholic Church believes, it seems to me that they are conceding the fight before they begin.

To their credit, a lot of scriptural apologists mention the Church Fathers in their arguments, typically when demonstrating that the Fathers didn't see any inconsistency between some Church Teaching and Scripture. But I'm still a little unnerved by the process. I wonder if they are successful, what kind of Catholic they'll produce? Will they convert a Baptist to Catholicism, only to have that new Catholic reject all the Church Councils and Papal pronouncements, because they haven't bought into the whole magesterial thing?

Another issue I have with scriptural apologetics is that eventually it comes down to translation. Someone will say that Isaiah says a "virgin" shall bear a child, then someone else will claim the Hebrew word really meant "young woman", then someone else will say that the word had a connotation of "maiden" (an unmarried young woman) and quote St. Jerome to back that up. Then someone will impugne St. Jerome, and before long you're arguing over ancient texts and personalities and the original issue of Mary's virginity is forgotten. Actually, I think the argument can begin and end with St. Jerome (ex, here, paragraph 32). He's representative of the beliefs of the Early Church. So if he says something in 400AD, that means that it wasn't invented later on. (Chances are, if he said it at all, it was said in a rude manner, example, which is why he's one of my favorite saints.) Of course, from the perspective of logic, it could be that St. Jerome himself invented it, but we're talking about common practice and belief, and we're also talking about common sense. Someone 2000 years after the fact is going to have insight that people within a few centuries didnt?

If you just want to shut someone up, then I see no issue with it. But at some point it comes down to the old question: who's your Magesterium? Do you accept the Bible only, or the teaching office of the Church that assembled it? If you don't accept the Catholic Bible, then you're accepting the judgement of a bunch of Jews at the end of the first century, or the work of a German monk who translated the Bible in a fit of pique.

Ultimately, I guess the issue is whether someone believes in sola scriptura or not. If not, then in my limited experience in RCIA, they'll go along with what the Catholic Church says, as long as it makes sense. If they do, then using the Bible to refute sola scriptura may be clever, but I wonder how effective it will be.

Bible Translations

2009-04-26T19:13:00.002-05:00

I was in a bookstore yesterday looking for something and happened to walk past the Religion section. Good Lord, there are a lot of Bibles out there! So many translations, study guides, concordances, illustrated and on an on. Shelves and shelves of them. Sometimes I wonder if that's unique to English, or if other languages have such an overwhelming number of translations.

I read a post on catholic.com one time where someone asked what the best translation was and someone responded "the one you read". That seems pretty good, but it doesn't really help someone starting from zero. For the record, I'm partial to the Revised Standard Version 2nd Catholic Edition put out by Ignatius press. One of the things I like about it, in a mischievous way, is the name. It's the Standard Version, for Catholics, which has been Revised. Twice. After all that it's still the Standard Version. Actually, there's little difference between the first and second edition, except in Isaiah, the first edition says a "young woman" shall conceive and bear a child, while in the second edition it says "virgin", and a few other smaller differences.

The official English bible in the US, the one that the Bishops dictated must be used for the Lectionary is the New American Bible. The copyright for the NAB is held by the Bishops and it's translation was directed by the Bishops. It is an unloved Bible and is criticized regularly, particularly here and here by the late Fr. Richard John Neuhaus. (Full disclosure, RJN was the one who gave me the idea of checking out the RSV Bible). Our family Bible is a NAB Bible and it's OK. I think it has a nice introduction to each of the books, though it is a little dull at points.

I also have a Douay-Rheims and an old Confraternity Bible. They all have their points, but overall the RSV just seems to sound better. The D-R is a little too archaic. What most people know of as the Douay-Rheims is really the Douay-Challanor, which is a little easier to read (OK, it's a lot easier to read). But whenever I read the D-R, I get the feeling that the world has passed me by. The books are titled differently, the Psalms are numbered differently. It's cool in a way, this is the eternal Word of God, after all, but at the same time it can be a little distracting if I want to compare translations.

The Confraternity Bible is good, and I kind of wish that if the USCCB needed an in-house Bible for Mass (ie, not something transplanted from the Protestants, like the RSV) they'd have picked that one. It seems literal, but still good English.

I actually like the King James version as well and wish there was a King James, Catholic Edition. I have this crazy idea that the Word of God should be as beautiful on the ear as it is in the heart. For me the first thing I look for when looking for beautiful translations is Psalm 23. This is from the KJV

¹The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
²He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
³He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
⁴Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
⁵Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
⁶Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

No one does it better than that.

I wouldn't mind getting some more Bibles. I've been thinking for a while about picking up an Orthodox Bible, with the other Maccabees and Ezras and whatnot. I also want to start picking up some of Ignatius Press' Study Guides that go along with the RSV.

Having multiple translations around is not a bad idea. I frequently want to see what different translators do with certain passages. There are a number of places on the internet where you can see multiple translations side by side, but to really get the feel for a passage you need to read the whole chapter to get the context. And I still prefer to do that on paper.

A Parish for the Latin Mass!

2009-04-26T12:27:00.003-05:00

When Pope Benedict XVI relieved the restrictions on the Traditional Latin Mass, and renamed it the Extraordinary Form, some Traditionalist Catholics had big plans. They expected that every parish in every diocese would soon have a Mass in the Extraordinary Form. I had much more modest expectations for the Diocese of Dallas. I thought maybe after one year we'd get one parish offering the Mass in the Extraordinary Form one time a week. And we didn't get even that.

For years, devotees of the Extraordinary Form in Dallas have been crowding into a small chapel at the monastery of the local Discalced Carmelite nuns. I counted one time and figured that this chapel can comfortably hold a hundred to hundred-ten people. Typically the High Mass on Sunday (technically a Missa Cantanta) attracts about a hunred-fifty, with people standing in the back and down the steps outside. Speakers are put up outside so they can hear what's going on. There's a Low Mass afterwards, which I've never attended, but I imagine that it has a similar crowd. It's a beautiful chapel, but it's ridiculously undersized for the congregation.

Currently, the Latin Mass community is not a parish. It's a community. What's the difference? Being a "community" means no Baptisms, no Confirmations, no First Communions. A parish would be needed for those, because the parish has to hold the records. I'm not sure about Marriage or Last Rites.

I haven't been to Sunday Mass for six months or so, for various reasons, but I attended today and got the happy news that Bishop Ferrel has approved the formation of a parish for the Latin Mass comunity and they are well on their way to buy a property and begin the move.

Deo Gratias!

Now as a Parish, it's probable that all of those sacraments will be available, and furthermore available in the Extraordinary Form, according to the Missal of 1962. Also, presumably they'll have a bigger place, though I don't know how big. The offer has been made on the property and hopefully they'll be able to begin finishing out the building (the priest mentioned today that they need to buy communion rails and other trappings of a church).

I'd still like to see more parishes in the area offering the Latin Mass, but this is wonderful news on it's own. Prayers have been answered.

What's all this about authenticity?

2009-04-25T09:48:00.002-05:00

Recently, I made a snide comment, unsubstantiated by any proof, that my local Catholic university was not really Catholic. I did it in a fit of pique, but it's probably not a justified comment. The source of my angst is that last year, the University of Dallas had an art exhibit that featured Our Lady of Guadalupe dressed as a stripper with the writing "Saint or sinner?" A student on campus apparently thought that might not be appropriate for a Catholic university in a area with a large Mexican population and stole it.

And that's that. To my knowledge, the artwork has never been returned, the thief has never been caught, and the University has never acknowledged any error in judgment. The artist, who was from another university, said of the controversy that with a name like "University of Dallas", she didn't know UD was a Catholic university. I remember thinking at the time "I wonder if that's the university's goal".

That's not fair. One mistake doesn't disqualify a university from being Catholic. Notre Dame has been doing everything in it's power to be a non-Catholic Catholic university for decades, including the recent Obama controversy, hosting Mario Cuomo, hosting the Vagina Monologues and on and on, and yet ND is routinely described as America's "premier" Catholic univeristy.

So what did UD really do wrong? They are accused of hypocracy (and if you believe the statements of alumni, mediocrity). UD advertises in First Things and its ads proclaim that UD is "Authentically Catholic". And indeed, I remember reading that more professors at UD have a mandatum than usual for a Catholic university. And indeed, UD get's high marks on the various Catholic university rating sites. And yet, they let us down on this one.

Now, I believe in forgiveness, but I also believe you have to have contrition and a firm purpose of amendment, and I don't see that from UD.

And there's something dodgy about UD. Occasionally my parish will have speakers from UD and I've heard two of them. One was OK. The other one ... not so much. She gave me the creeps, and she's the one who started my disgust with the baby-boomer fascination with Vatican-II.

"Why can't they just be Catholic?" someone might ask, implying that UD is ashamed of being Catholic (it's ad in First Things notwithstanding). But why stop there? Why can't Notre Dame and Georgetown and SLU and Boston College and the rest be Catholic? What are they ashamed of? And why stop there? Why can't Catholic politicians be Catholic? Why can't Catholic Charities and the Campain for Human Development be Catholic? Why can't some priests and some bishops and even Cardinals be Catholic? Why can't my neighbor who only goes to Mass on Christmas and Easter be Catholic?

But after I read all of this and think that no one is proud of being Catholic, I have to think: Why all this talk about identity at all? I'm a big believer in identity, having posted on it before, but what's the big deal?

I think that part of it is a regression to the mean. I wasn't around, but my impression is that a lot of the "Catholic culture" of the late 19th century and early 20th century was borne out of prejudice. Catholic schools, including the CYO sports program, Catholic hospitals, Catholic organizations and so on had a missionary and societal function, but also had a practial function that in some places Catholics were outright discriminated against. At some point, Catholics may not have been welcomed in some situations, they may have gotten substandard care in hospitals, and I believe that Catholic schools were not really "recognized" by public schools, so no football games between St Agnes and Roosevelt High. So Catholics developed a sort-of cocoon that they lived in. And alternate universe almost.

By the mid 20th century, society had gotten over that, but maybe some Catholics did not. However, having noticed the people don't mind having Catholics around, as long as they don't bring it up, a lot of Catholics simply quit bringing it up. If you can hang out at the Elks lodge, as long as you don't go on about the Pope, just shut up about the Pope. Simple.

Which is worse? Staying in your insular community where you have no chance to evangelize the heathen, because you never talk to them, or hanging out with the heathen but not evangelizing for fear of being driven back to your safe haven?

But something's changed in the last decade. Now, it seems that many Catholics have moved past seeking acceptance, and are now seeking conversion to their side. Perhaps it's the political climate. Perhaps it's the spread of Catholic radio (which I think is more influential than Catholic TV). Perhaps there's something to the "Pope John Paul II Generation" nonsense I hear about sometimes.

Perhaps it's a change in the idea of "inclusiveness", that it's no longer enough to be accepted as you are, but to be appreciated because you are who you are. To take an extreme case, it used to be that there'd be a quota for hiring women or minorities. It was a matter or fairness. Now, the attitude is that an organization benefits from the presence of women and minorities, not just the people with a job, but the organization as a whole benefits from diversity. The earlier model encouraged people to blend in. The current model encourages people to stand out. A lot of Catholics are now trying to stand out. And if they don't stand out far enough, they get criticized by those that wish they did.

But not everyone. Notre Dame and Georgetown and the rest may want to assure you that they aren't "that kind of Catholic". Donna Brazille, Nancy Pelosi and Joe Biden piously assert that they won't vote their conscience on moral issues (which always seems like a strange promise for a politician in representive Democracy "Vote for me: I won't listen to my judgment about right and wrong"). However, it does seem like the tide may be turning a little. BC recently re-introduced crucifixes into the classroom and some people freaked.

How do I convert my coworkers and friends? Do I let them think I'm just a regular guy? Do I live in an overtly Christian manner? Do I drop words like "homoousion" into the conversation? Do I invite them to Mass, hand out pamphlets, or wear a T-shirt that says "it's better in Latin"? I guess that's the question when it comes to whether this new trend is good and deserves to stick around. I tend to prefer the "act like a Christian and don't be afraid to bring it up once in a while" method, but that's not quite what's being demanded by some.

Meanwhile, to get back to University of Dallas, which is where I started this rambling mess, the President of the University recently announced his retirement. The retirement is unrelated to the scandal. UD is not Notre Dame and stories like this can dissolve quickly. It will be telling who the university picks as the new president and what his or her attitudes are towards being an "authentically Catholic" university.

No More Meat

2009-04-23T20:25:00.002-05:00

From Amy Wellborn's fine blog.

The Friday abstinence practice was over and done with before I was born. I can't say if anything was lost, or whether things are better or worse now. I actually do try to abstain from meat throughout the year, but it's frankly quite difficult unless you can get the whole family on board.

There is a interconnectedness in the Body of Christ. Where one member is, the whole Body is. So if a group of the faithful does penance, it will surely help the rest of the Church.

Divine Mercy Sunday, pt 2

2009-04-19T12:21:00.004-05:00

The Divine Mercy is a tremendous blessing. The diary of St. Faustina is filled is amazing statements, such as these. (per the convention of the diary, the words of Jesus are in boldface)

para. 378 ... But God has promised a great grace especially to you, and all those ... who will proclaim My great mercy. I shall protect them Myself at the hour of death, as My own glory. And even if the sins of souls were as dark as night, when the sinner turns to My mercy, he gives Me the greatest praise and is the glory of My passion. When a soul extols My goodness, Satan trembles before it and flees to the very bottom of hell.

paragraph 699. On one occasion, I heard these words: My daughter, tell the whole world about My inconceivable mercy. I desire that the Feast of Mercy be a refuge and shelter for all souls, and especially for poor sinners. On that day the very depths of My tender mercy are open. I pour out a whole ocean of graces upon those souls who approach the Fount of My mercy. The soul that will go to Confession and receive Holy Communion shall obtain complete forgiveness of sins and punishment. On that day all the divine floodgates through which graces flow are opened. Let no soul fear to draw near to Me, even though its sins be as scarlet. My mercy is so great that no mind, be it of man or of angel, will be able to fathom it throughout all eternity. Everything that exists has come forth from the very depths of My most tender mercy. Every soul in its relation to Me will contemplate My love and mercy throughout eternity. The Feast of Mercy emerged from My very depths of tenderness. It is My desire that it be solemnly celebrated on the first Sunday after Easter. Mankind will not have peace until it turns to the Fount of My mercy.

Paragraph 1485: Conversation of the Merciful God with a Sinful Soul.

Jesus: Be not afraid of your Savior, O sinful soul. I make the first move to come to you, for I know that by yourself you are unable to lift yourself to me. Child, do not run away from your Father; be willing to talk openly with your God of mercy who wants to speak words of pardon and lavish his graces on you. How dear your soul is to Me! I have inscribed your name upon My hand; you are engraved as a deep wound in My Heart.

Soul: Lord, I hear your voice calling me to turn back from the path of sin, but I have neither the strength nor the courage to do so.

Jesus: I am your strength, I will help you in the struggle.

Soul: Lord, I recognize your holiness, and I fear You.

Jesus: My child, do you fear the God of mercy? My holiness does not prevent Me from being merciful. Behold, for you I have established a throne of mercy on earth-the tabernacle-and from this throne I desire to enter into your heart. I am not surrounded by a retinue or guards. You can come to me at any moment, at any time; I want to speak to you and desire to grant you grace.

Soul: Lord, I doubt that You will pardon my numerous sins; my misery fills me with fright.

Jesus: My mercy is greater than your sins and those of the entire world. Who can measure the extent of my goodness? For you I descended from heaven to earth; for you I allowed myself to be nailed to the cross; for you I let my Sacred Heart be pierced with a lance, thus opening wide the source of mercy for you. Come, then, with trust to draw graces from this fountain. I never reject a contrite heart. Your misery has disappeared in the depths of My mercy. Do not argue with Me about your wretchedness. You will give me pleasure if you hand over to me all your troubles and griefs. I shall heap upon you the treasures of My grace.

Paragraph 294: +Once the Lord said to me, Act like a beggar who does not back away when he gets more alms [than he asked for], but offers thanks the more fervently. You too should not back away and say that you are not worthy of receiving greater graces when I give them to you. I know you are unworthy, but rejoice all the more and take as many treasures from My Heart as you can carry, for then you will please Me more. And I will tell you one more thing: Take these graces not only for yourself, but also for others; that is, encourage the souls with whom you come in contact to trust in My infinite mercy. Oh, how I love those souls who have complete confidence in Me. I will do everything for them.

"I will do everything for them." My voice cracks when I read that.

At our parish, there's no special mention of Divine Mercy Sunday. At the Latin Mass I attend, the priest has a little picture of the Divine Mercy by the podium and his sermon is taken almost entirely from St. Faustina's Diary (Divine Mercy in my Soul). That's as commanded by Jesus in the book.

However, at our parish, we did get a petition for a successful Earth Day in the prayers of the faithful. (sigh). One more thing to offer up.

The Divine Mercy, and Jesus' instructions, are private revelation, so it's not binding on the faithful, but it does seem to have some weight. With any private revelation, I can think of five possible explanations.

The visionary could be lying.
The visionary could be delusional.
The visionary could be the innocent victim of a practical joke.
The visionary could be actually seeing something supernatural, but not from God.
The visionary could be telling the truth.

It seems we could rule out the first possibility on the basis on Faustina's canonization. If she were making the whole thing up, the investigation behind the canonization process should have uncovered that and her cause would have gone nowhere.

The second possibility is difficult to imagine because her diary has been given an imprimatur. The diary is over 700 pages long, and according to the Church authorities, there's nothing inside it that would contradict Church teachings. That's hard to imagine if it was the product of a disturbed mind. I sit in RCIA class as a sponsor every week and it's rare that someone can talk for a half hour without spitting out something that contradicts church teaching (usually it's an innocent slip of the tongue, but sometimes it's a sign of poor catechesis). Our RCIA catechists are not formally trained, but neither was St. Faustina. To go 700 pages, specifically 700 pages where Jesus himself is giving instruction, without denying an existing dogma, or creating a new dogma out of whole cloth, is almost impossible unless the inspiration is real.

The third option can be ruled out immediately. The circumstances of St. Faustina's visions are varied enough and occured over a long enough period of time in different places to be the result of a practical joke.

The fourth option doesn't make sense either. If the visions were not from God, they must have been from the devil. Remember, she was seeing Jesus Himself. God would not permit an angel or soul to perpetrate such a misunderstanding. But if she saw the devil, why would he tell her to pray to God? In cases of contested apparitions, like Medjugorje or Garabandal, there's almost always something inconsistent about it. In the case of Medjugorje, a lack of submission to the Magesterium. In the case of Garabandal, the instruction not to bring blessed objects, and besides, Garabandal is just a little strange.

The final possibility has to be the most likely. Given Pope John Paul II's document on her canonization, I'm a bit confused as to why this isn't a bigger deal. Maybe other parishes have a Divine Mercy themed Mass, with the icon displayed and the sermon about the gift of Mercy. If so, I can only hope that we do as well.

I didn't get to go to the Latin Mass today. The Carmelites, whose chapel the Mass is held in, were having a private jubliee celebration for their Mother Superior. Maybe next year.

Divine Mercy Sunday, pt 1

2009-04-18T14:30:00.004-05:00

In Raymond Arroyo's book Mother Angelica, he gives EWTN a lot of credit for the spread of the Divine Mercy devotion in the US, specifically the chaplet, which is sung every day on EWTN TV at 3PM Eastern and on EWTN Radio at 3PM Central.

I have a hard time disagreeing with that. I remember being on vacation one time when I rented a car that happened to have satellite radio pre-installed. I was listening to EWTN radio when the Divine Mercy chaplet came on. There are two that EWTN plays: one is sweet and happy sounding. The other is more of a chant, and sounds more "religious" and definitely more serious. This was the sweet one. I remember thinking "that's a nice song", then I went into a store to buy beer or something and came out and it was still playing. Then I drove around the block to get something else and when I came back it was still playing. I didn't know what it was, nor why it went on and on and on. Acutally, I'd have been hard pressed at the time to tell you what a "chaplet" was. Some time later, I heard something else on EWTN about the divine mercy and recognized the phrase "Have mercy on us and on the whole world" that I'd heard repeated over and over again.

After the staggering events of Holy Week, the betrayal of Jesus, His gruesome execution and His glorious resurrection, this is the perfect time to reflect on God's infinite mercy that brought such good out of such horror. Without it, there'd have been no prophets, no Incarnation, no Gospel, no Resurrection and no Church.

Fire and Brimstone

2009-04-12T22:00:00.003-05:00

From Fr. Corapi's appearance on EWTN Live

Notice that Fr. Corapi dodged the question on the absence of smoke in the homilies the faithful hear these days. It's not a fair question. Fr. Corapi doesn't have any control over what a given priest does or does not say. He doesn't even have to deal with it, not being a parish priest.

When Fr. Pacwa was in town recently for a talk on St. Paul. He went on for a bit about how priests do this wrong and that wrong. The priest who invited him to town --- that is, the pastor of the church he was speaking in --- was sitting in the front row listening. I wonder what he thought of that. I guess it depends on whether he was guilty of the problems Fr. Pacwa was describing.

I imagine it's not easy being a priest and preparing a sermon. You say one thing and people complain. You say another and more people complain. You convince yourself that you don't care if people complain and suddenly no one's listening. Priests are supposed to be humble, and "you're going to listen to this, whether you like it or not" doesn't seem very humble, at least by the standards of the day. I have a friend who wants me to be a deacon, but the Diocese isn't returning my calls so that's probably not going to happen. However, if that were to pan out, and I was preparing a homily, I'm not sure what I'd say. I tend to think I'd serve up a tub-thumper of a sermon, but unless you're standing up there, I don't think anyone knows what they'd do.

I suppose that one of the great challenges of being a parish priest is listening to everyone second-guess your actions, when you're trying to do your best (while remaining humble). Maybe the laity needs to learn some humility as well.

More about the Maronites

2009-04-12T21:33:00.003-05:00

I did attend the Good Friday adoration service at Our Lady of Lebanon. I'm not going to post pictures of it, because it's Easter and the crucifix was one of the most gory crucifixes I've ever seen. I still have it on my camera, but I'm not sure I'll even save the picture.

Also, there's a statue of the Virgin Mary in the church. For the Adoration service, they had a black robe over it. It was a black garment. Like, instead of her usual blue gown, she had a black robe or gown on. That looked ... strange.

Anyway, it was as advertised. Prior to the service, they took down the crucifix that normally hangs on the back wall behind the altar (not quite life-sized), propped it up in front of the altar and, put fake blood on the body. Then they aimed a red floodlight on it, completing the scene. Not for the faint of heart. Then after some readings and Qolo's (hymns), they pulled the nails out of the hands and the arms folded down at which point they took it from the cross and put it in a casket and with the casket led a procession around the church property. Coming back into the church, the casket was held up so the congregation could walk under it. As they did, everyone reached up and touched it. People were encouraged to bring flowers, which they placed in the casket. Then the box was placed into a tomb.

It was something.

The service I attended was the adoration, with no communion. There was a pre-consecrated Mass earlier in the day, with hosts consecrated the day before (no consecration on Good Friday, just like in the Latin Rite). I didn't attend that.

One of the aspects of the Maronite Rite that interest me is that there's nothing that's subtle about it. Not just the wrenching aspects of this service, but the words of the service themselves are up-front about what's going on. So, for Good Friday, you basically have the congregation and clergy reciting a two-page-long litany of all the main aspects of Good Friday. "God sent His only Son for us." "He suffered a horrible death." "By His sins we have been saved." "We did nothing to deserve this." And so on.

Similarly with the Holy Thursday service, where there's a long section read by the congregation that discusses Jesus washing the apostle's feet, including the social aspects and how that all applies to our salvation. It's good, but to my ears it's a little strange. It's really the kind of thing that you'd expect to be in a homily, or in a Catechism. It's almost like someone took a treatise on that subject written by one of the Church Fathers and chopped it up so the priests and congregation read alternating sentences of it.

But since it's there you don't have to worry that the priest will forget to mention it in his homily. Nor do you have to worry that his homily will be poorly understood due to lack of attention or bad hearing.

As always, Father Pacwa was wonderful. Talking about how the Church is thriving in Africa, and about the Passover customs of Jesus' day. We're lucky to have priests like him in the church today.

Happy Easter Everybody

2009-04-12T12:31:00.002-05:00

Rejoice! He has risen!

Without the Resurrection, Christianity would not be a religion; it'd be a fan club.

That Just-Baptized Feeling

2009-04-11T11:48:00.001-05:00

Good stuff.

Knights of Columbus an Army of Oppression

2009-04-10T10:32:00.002-05:00

According to Obama's faith-based advisor, it is.

As a sometimes-member of the Knights, it amuses me to read people describe the Knights as a vicious cabal seeking ruin on helpless gays (in this case) or bent on world domination (the Masonic-connection angle). Dissidents on the Right and the Left agree that the K of C is a shady organization which is a power until itself. (Dissidents on the right and left tend to agree on more than they'd be comfortable acknowledging).

I wish. If it did any of those things I might show up for meetings and pay my dues on time. Instead, mostly it's comprised of old men arguing over whether the Lenten Fish Fry should be done on the second or third Friday of Lent. Outside of Lent, they argue about when the garage sale should be and other tedious matters of strictly local interest. Then they argue about why no one shows up for the meetings.

If those guys are holding the levers of power, believe me, you have nothing to worry about.

Maronites

2009-04-10T09:41:00.002-05:00

I went to Our Lady of Lebanon last night for Holy Thursday Mass. I didn't get any pictures because I was almost late and had to quickly grab a seat. It was packed attendance, partly due to the presence of Fr. Mitch Pacwa, who used to be a priest there when he was at UD for a while (when UD was still a Catholic university).

When I went to St. Basil the Great, I was greeted by a young woman who asked if I'd ever been to an Eastern Divine Liturgy before. I said that I'd been to the Maronite Liturgy a few times and she said "They are very Roman". And in fact, there are more similarities between the Maronite Rite and the Roman Rite than between the Maronite and Byzantine. I think some of that is due to the history of the Maronites.

The Maronites were forced underground for hundreds of years as Islam swept the Middle East. In fact, Rome didn't even know they were still there. When missionaries finally made it back to Lebanon and Syria, they were surprised to find a group of Catholics already there. Apparently, when the Maronites were reunited, they wholesale adopted a lot of the current Latin Rite into their liturgy, and have only recently been moving back to their original rite.

So you see things like Stations of the Cross, which is a particularly Roman thing. At least when Westerners are around (like last night), they call the Liturgy a "Mass", which is a Latin word. However, the liturgy itself is distinct. I remember the first time my wife and I attended that Mass, I left with the feeling that I hadn't fulfilled my Sunday obligation, because I hadn't attended a Catholic Mass. It took a lot of convincing before I was comfortable that the Maronites are Catholic.

The main feature is that the Eucharistic Prayer is in Aramaic. That's the language that Jesus spoke. So it's not only the same message that Jesus spoke at the Last Supper, it's the same words, in the same language. That's something. The liturgy is mostly chanted.

In fact, I've been to four different Rites or Forms, and the Ordinary Form of the Latin Rite seems to be the outlier.

In the Ordinary Form, people from the congregation are constantly running around the Altar area: Lectors, Cantors, Extraordinary Eucharistic Ministers, all going up and coming down at different times. Sometimes, they have to get out of each other's way. In the Extraordinary Form, and the Byzantine and Maronite Rite, only the clergy and altar servers are ever in the sanctuary. If there's reading or singing to be done, it's done from a separate podium set up in the congregation. And there are no extraordinary Eucharistic ministers at all.
In the Ordinary Form, the liturgy is mostly spoken. In the other rites, it's mostly chanted or sung, both the priest's parts and the congregation's response. The Extraordinary form has yet another form (the Low Mass) where more of it is spoken, but chanting is still a notable feature.
In the Ordinary Form, the Sign of Peace is the meet-and-greet portion of the Mass. In the Extraordinary form, there's no sign of peace at all. In the Byzantine and Maronite Rite, it's a bit more solemn and not meant to be a chance to catch up on your neighbor's gall-bladder surgery.
In the Ordinary Form, there's more emphasis on the congregation, the aforementioned sign-of-peace and people running around the sanctuary for instance, but also what I've taken to call the "Liturgy of the Announcements"; a tedious litany of pancake breakfasts and raffle ticket sales that seem to be essential to ... someone. The other forms and rites that I've attended seem to be able to resist that temptation. Note that the Extraordinary Mass, the Maronite Liturgy and Byzantine Divine Liturgy are all missionary in nature. People come from all over town to attend that one liturgy. They aren't neighbors and only get to see each other at the Church. You'd think there'd be even more of a social aspect to it. But that's not the case.

Now I don't consider myself multi-culti. I don't really have an opinion as to whether the Ordinary Form is right or wrong on the above points (except for the Liturgy of the Announcements. I'd pay to get rid of that.) I don't want to see the Ordinary Form incorporate aspects of the Eastern churches, nor do I want them to incorporate aspects of the Ordinary Form. The cultures are unique and should maintain their own identity. (I wouldn't mind the Ordinary FOrm incorporating some aspects of the Extraordinary Form.) I'm a Western Catholic and I don't see that ever changing. But it is interesting to see the differences.

There are two more Eastern Rites in the area, and I hope to attend at least one of them in the next month. Meanwhile I'm back to the Maronites tonight for Good Friday. They take the corpus off the crucifix and put Jesus' body in a tomb. I want to see that.

Cool icon site

2009-04-06T21:30:00.004-05:00

Artist site of Joao D Filipe

Good stuff.

I'm not sure the big deal about egg tempera. Every icon site I see mentions that the icons are done in egg tempera. I don't see a similar level of information about other artwork. A quick check of the interweb indicates that the Jonas Brothers are all dating Britney Spears. A more thorough investigation says that tempera refers to not only a type of paint, but also a painting technique. I wonder if the attraction of "egg tempera" lies with the paint itself or the technique, now found largely in Eastern Icons.

More about Spiritual Warfare

2009-04-05T11:29:00.002-05:00

Consider two sergeants in the US Army. Both hang out with their troops in the evening hour over drinks and cards. Both know their soldiers by name and know their closest family members. Both share a familiarity with their troops and would do anything for them. But there's a key difference. The first sergeant has been drilling his troops day after day. When told to dig a hole, they'd better respond "How deep" rather than "why?". The first sergeant has put his troops through rigorous physical conditioning, pushing them farther then they ever thought they had the ability to go. The second sergeant trains his troops for an hour a day, sometimes taking a day off. He let them blow off steam and relax almost as soon as they got off the bus. Now, when it comes time to fight, which one is ready to go?

I want to focus a bit more on a specific part of my scenario. The sergeants are each drinking with their soldiers. Drinking is not good for you. Done in moderation, it's OK, but it causes weight gain, it dulls the senses and it leads to a frivolous outlook on life. I know a guy who, at one time, was always joking about happy hour. In the midst of a crisis at work, he'd say "when's beer-thirty" to lighten the mood. Except it didn't lighten the mood. It lightened everyone's opinion of him. So drinking itself can weaken a person physically and mentally.

But in one case, the troops are at the peak of their performance. In the other case, they are barely working out enough to work off last night's bender.

Obviously I have a point. There are many elements in the society that constitute a type of spiritual warfare. Pro-abortion politicians, suggestive TV shows (or even TV ads), filthy songs on the radio. If a person is conditioned and secure in his faith, he or she can probably endure all of that and not be affected at all. But no one wants to be conditioned. St. Paul was catechized for years before he was ready to preach to the gentiles. We expect to be able to do that after a weekend retreat. And so you have people who've never been taught the essence of the faith in Church or School, and whose parents may not know it either being let loose into the world. The only thing they hear from the pulpit is that they should love each other, and the only thing they hear in school is not to hurt each other. So is it a surprise when things like this come out?

I think there's an egalitarian ethic at work. In the political sphere, all opinions are equally valid. The majority rules (unless it concerns a bailout on Wall Street). But in matters of faith, there's Truth that people have to assent to. It's the responsibility (not just the prerogative) of the Church to teach the Truth and the responsibility (not just the option) of the faithful to assent to it. And the Church is not only the Universal Church, the Local Church (ie, the Diocese including Bishops and Priests) but also the Domestic Church (ie, the family). The Catechism of the Catholic Church is a big book. It takes a long time to learn it. Just like it takes a long time to prepare a soldier for battle.

If you're not prepared for battle, you're going to die. It's as simple as that. No one like calisthenics, until they get into combat and have to rely on reflexes and strength and physical and mental stamina. Then they wish they'd done a lot more. Except in the battle for souls, the stakes are a lot higher.

Creepy or Coincidence?

2009-04-04T20:21:00.005-05:00

On the April 3rd World Over Live. Raymond Arroyo interviewing Fr Thomas J. Euteneuer, president of Human Life International, and exorcist.

I vote for creepy.

I don't think it was staged. It's hard to tell what question Arroyo was about to ask, but it does seem like he had to switch gears when the lights went out. I was listening to this live on the radio when it happened, so was eager to see what had happened when I got home.

Fr. Euteneuer is making the circuit promoting his book, and that same day I heard him on Catholic Answers Live. Someone asked how he knows if the demon has left the victim. He said that you have to establish that up front. He generally picks a sign -- for instance the demon will have to recite a few lines of a prayer -- that will indicate that the demon has left. They don't want to do that. He said they are very proud creatures (pride being the reason for the state they are in. He commanded a demon to repeat the first few words of the Our Father, to indicate it was gone. It repeated word for word up to "hallowed" ... "be" ... "thy", then at "name" the demon said "NO", because it didn't want to leave.

Creepy.

Chesterton on Syncretism

2009-04-04T12:37:00.003-05:00

Students of popular science, like Mr. Blatchford, are always insisting that Christianity and Buddhism are very much alike, especially Buddhism. This is generally believed, and I believed it myself until I read a book giving the reasons for it. The reasons were of two kinds: resemblances that meant nothing because they were common to all humanity, and resemblances which were not resemblances at all. The author solemnly explained that the two creeds were alike in things in which all creeds are alike, or else he described them as alike in some point in which they are quite obviously different. Thus, as a case of the first class, he said that both Christ and Buddha were called by the divine voice coming out of the sky, as if you would expect the divine voice to come out of the coal-cellar. Or, again, it was gravely urged that these two Eastern teachers, by a singular coincidence, both had to do with the washing of feet. You might as well say that it was a remarkable coincidence that they both had feet to wash. And the other class of similarities were those which simply were not similar. ... That Buddhism approves of mercy or of self-restraint is not to say that it is specially like Christianity; it is only to say that it is not utterly unlike all human existence. Buddhists disapprove in theory of cruelty or excess because all sane human beings disapprove in theory of cruelty or excess. But to say that Buddhism and Christianity give the same philosophy of these things is simply false.

There was a time that I fell for that idea: that since most of the major religions agreed on human behavior, at a basic level they were all similar. What I'd done, in fact, and what Chesterton alludes to here without using the term, is that I'd discovered the Natural Law. It's the Natural Law that C. S. Lewis famously used as a proof of God's existence in his book Mere Christianity.

I honestly can't remember why or how I discarded the notion that all religions were basically the same, but I remember being quite embarrassed at my earlier opinions, seeing them as immature or childish truisms. Like if you re-read, as an adult, a poem that you'd written in grammar school. Except I remembered thinking those syncretist thoughts one week and being wholly embarrassed at the foolishness of such an idea less than two weeks later.

Landeck, Ohio

2009-04-02T21:07:00.000-05:00

Landeck is an unincorporated community in Allen County, Ohio. It's a 10-minute drive or so from where I grew up. It consists of one main street containing a church, a bar, a school, a meeting hall (C.K of O. if you're interested) a grain elevator and about a dozen houses. What more you need in a community is beyond me.

The buildings in Landeck are old, and classic in style. Most are built in that old, red brick characteristic of early 1900's construction. Surrounding Landeck are acres of farmland, generally planted with winter wheat which is now lush and green. Driving up to Landeck and seeing the solid red buildings suddenly appear among the green fields is a bit surreal, like driving into a kid's Lego-land set up.

Farming is, of course, the main activity in Landeck, as indicated in the picture of Saint Isadore. Saint Isidore was a pious farmhand who'd attend Mass in the morning before reporting to the fields. As such, he was often late to work. One day, when his master was coming to discipline him for being late, he found that angels were plowing alongside him, more than making up for the time that was lost.

Isidore is shown here wearing overalls and working shoes, the typical attire of farmers, at least in that part of Ohio (that's what my father and uncles wore every day of their lives). He's standing in a field among wheat stalks and angels can be seen plowing at the right.

It's a little hard to see, but on either side of the stained glass window are stations of the cross. They have a distinctly Eastern (iconic) appearance, which is quite somethinig since the Eastern churches don't do the Stations of the Cross, as a rule.

The Sermon on the Mount. Jesus preaches the Beatitudes to a wondering crowd. I've hear several times that the expression "Blessed are the poor" (for instance) was a common expression and could also be translated "Happy are the poor" or "Good for you, who are poor!" or something. At at time when worldly prosperity was seen as a sign of God's favor, that must have been quite a surprise. Consider that the history of the Jewish people was one of prosperity, when they walked with God, and slavery or exile when they didn't

As far as the artwork goes, note the Triangle at the top (representing the Trinity) and the open book (representing the Word of God, which is Jesus). In this picture and the previous one, there are stars at the top. That's a design motif all through the church. They are 5-sided stars, which are attributed to the Epiphany. Given their ubiquitous nature, I'd say they probably simply represent holiness in general, or the search for God.

The Resurrection. Jesus is emerging triumphantly from the tomb. Mary Magdelan greets him (not the jar of herbs that she'd brought to annoint the body, which they hadn't had time to due on Good Friday due to the Passover) and the Roman guard cowers in fear and awe. Note the ray of light coming down to Jesus. At the top is a crown and scepter, symbols of his Lordship. On either side is the Sun, clearly representing God and what appears to be the moon. That's a bit of a stumper, but in this case I think it represents the darkness of sin which has been conquered by the Light.

Jesus is holding a banner, another symbol of victory and also the Resurrection and under his feet are lilies, also symbols of the Resurrection.

The Resurrection is an apt image for this church building. In 1948, a tornado struck Landeck and destroyed the church. I saw a picture of it in the paper and it was something. The front and back of the church looked relatively untouched but the middle of it was simply gone. It was around noon on a Friday during Lent and two 8-year old or 9-year old boys were in the church praying the Stations of the Cross when the tornado hit, killing them. Three girls and a nun managed to take shelter in a closet in the sacristy, where they were cleaning up. When they opened the door, they saw daylight as the roof was simply lifted off of the room they were in. It's a miracle they weren't hurt.

The pastor raised funds and the church was rebuilt. A sad irony is that due to a drop in population, it's likely that the current pastor will be the last at Landeck. In fact, a year ago there were stories that the church wasn't taking wedding reservations more than 6 months in advance, or something due to widespread rumors that it would be closed soon. That's since passed and the parish thinks they'll be open at least another two years, but the time is near.

Whoever said "demographics is destiny" was right. Demographics are about to do to this pretty little church was a tornado couldn't.