Ubi Petrus

All too often flashy advertising for Catholic products falls into the dual trap of kitsch and overt sentimentalism which, in the end, tends to push away the very customers it attempts to reach.  Every once in a while one comes along that breaks that trend, and I am very pleased that this one is for a book (haha!) about the Church Fathers (hahaha!) by Mike Aquilina (ah, the trifecta of ha!).  Okay, yes, perhaps I’m a bit biased…but watch this video and tell me if you don’t agree:

For far longer than I’ve been a Catholic there has been an to-and-fro of just how Bishops, and in particular Bishops in this country, relate to the Bishops’ Conference – to what extent are they bound by the decisions and documents of the Conference, to what extent does collegiality demand deference, when and how ought they to exercise their own pastoral judgment along side or even in contradiction to that Conference and so on.  One side would suggest that collegiality and modern sensibilities dictate a significant deference to anything agreed upon by the Conference;  the other would suggest a minimalization of the impact of the Conference  in any Diocese, indeed some even call for the disbanding of the USCCB all together.  Pope Benedict’s reflections while still a Cardinal on the fact that Episcopal Conferences have no theological basis have helped to clear the lines of this skirmish some.  Yet, as seemingly always, conflict remains, and it seems seldom entered by those who are ultimately impacted by the issue – the Bishops themselves.

Recently Bishop Robert Vasa, the ordinary of the Diocese of Baker, offered a talk on this very topic and one that was sure not to please everyone on either side.  He simultaneously reminds us of the facts then-Cardinal Ratzinger first offered and yet says they are “nearly essential”.  While I would not be the first to quibble with the use of the word “essential” I cannot help but recognize he has struck the place where truth so often is found – in medio stat virtus.  I heartily recommend reading the entire article – his insights are as invaluable as his honesty is refreshing.

A plethora of reasons, all entirely insufficient, have kept me from this august site for some time.  Primarily work has kept me, as the saying goes, busier than a one-armed paper hanger (apologies to all those with only one arm and to anyone who might hang paper for a living) and even in my down time I have been entirely too frazzled to cobble together sentences sufficiently coherent to make worth anyone’s while, both mine for writing and yours for reading.  Secondarily, and partly caused by the former, I’ve been battling the feeling that it’s largely a waste of time to post on most subjects as they’re already covered elsewhere and far more thoroughly than I’m capable in my sadly limited time.  I’ve been able to start things several times but just never quite been able to coax them into a remotely usable form.

Thankfully I think I’ve (finally) learned better than to make rash statements of the “here I come with a roaring blogging vengeance” type.  Rather, I’m simply going to do my best.  Sometimes it’ll be topical, sometimes it’ll be on a complete tangent.  Sometimes it’ll be interesting, sometimes it’ll be intellectual sawdust.  But hey, when the question is “to write or not to write” I can’t stand being in the latter camp for very long at all.  So I apologize in advance to the feed readers of anyone still following this blog.

I leave you now with one of my favorite songs, sung at one of the great times in my nation’s recent memory:

Rejoice, O sorrowful Mother; after your great sufferings, you shine forth as Queen, enthroned beside your Son. — Gospel Antiphon, Morning Prayer

Reading the above this morning I was struck by both the beauty, the pain and the hope so firmly shown forth in today’s feast.  Compare, contrast, and consider this image:

and this image:

It is impossible, indeed incoherent, to meditate on either of the above images without simultaneously holding in tension the other.  Our Lady’s great sorrows were not the end, no was her glorious coronation given without her first suffering greatly.  They are entirely different, yet completely the same.  May we have the strength to endure life’s sorrows knowing that the end of our fidelity is glory in Heaven through the merciful love of her Son our Savior.  Ave Maria…

In your benevolence, pray for the success of Fr. Bruno Cadoré, OP, of the Province of France as he begins his term as the Master of the Dominican Order.  He is 86th successor to St. Dominic.  Here is the full story.

I make no bones about my brotherly affection and deep respect for Mike Aquilina – as such it shouldn’t surprise that I found his article on, if you will, ancient youth ministry so crisp and accurate.  Two snips really caught my attention:

They promised young people great things, like persecution, lower social status, public ridicule, severely limited employment opportunities, frequent fasting, a high risk of jail and torture, and maybe, just maybe, an early, violent death at the hands of their pagan rulers.

and

What made the Church attractive in the third century can make it just as attractive in the twenty-first. In the ancient world and in ours, young people want a challenge. They want to love with their whole being. They’re willing to do things the hard way — if people they respect make the big demands. These are distinguishing marks of youth. You don’t find too many middle-aged men petitioning the Marines for a long stay at Parris Island. It’s young men who beg for that kind of rigor.

Whether this concept of challenging youth instead of coddling them will ever catch on again within the Church, at least within my lifetime, certainly seems debatable and even doubtful in some corners.  As different as today’s youth are from those of ancient times they’re still youth, and their thirst and desire for a challenge has never abated.  Look a young man or woman square in the eye and tell them they too could move the world and they will follow you to the ends of the earth, no matter the cost – and in Christianity that cost starts with a death, death to self, death to the ways of this world, but that death opens unto new and everlasting life in Christ.  If it worked in the ancient Church, who knows, just maybe it can work here as well.

In a recent discussion on plurk about YALI (Yet Another Liturgical Infraction) someone asked me why I even care about this or that particular issue.   In this particular case the person wasn’t implying the issue wasn’t important, but questioning why I burned energy on something that is very unlikely to change and even if it does in one small place is likely still to be done improperly all over anyway.  The question of liturgy has surrounded me it seems since before I was even Catholic.  Story time … suffer through, if you will – it’s a short one, I promise.

Back when I was in College, still “unchurched” as the old term goes, I borrowed my mother’s Bible – partly to impress my then-girlfriend’s mother, partly out of an inner curiosity as to just what this book had in it that was so important to so many people.  Not knowing what I was doing I read it as any other book, from page 1 forwards.  I didn’t get much past Kings doing it that way before the lineages bogged me down.  In comes the local priest, whose name to this day I do not remember, who told me to read John first (as an aside, I often wonder why anyone would ever recommend the most mystical and multi-layered Gospel as a starter, but there it is).  It is, I think looking back  on it now, no coincidence that one of the first verses I would read was John 2:17:

His disciples recalled the words of scripture, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

Those words have never left me since then, even for a day.  As I moved on in my life and eventually entered the RCIA process and learned of and about the Mass those words took on a new meaning and a new depth of meaning.  The Mass is and always has been a core part of God’s plan for our salvation; Christ, as it is said, is the only person ever born with the express intention of dying – to die on the Cross, to give us that which we could never give ourselves and do so even at the price of His own Blood, to offer us salvation.  And not only salvation of which we are but bystanders, but one in which we actively participate by our very lives, in choosing in each and every action to live in and for Him, something we can only do through the strength offered us in the Eucharist.  How, I came to wonder, could you not be zealous for, and therein protective of, the way in which this great Gift is offered?

There are many things I’ve seen that irk me, some that genuinely bother me, and some that simply infuriate me.  When I read stories like this one from Jimmy Akin it makes me wonder, if we are called to conform our lives as closely as possible to Jesus’ and a very obvious part of that is this zeal the disciples all noticed as mentioned by John, why would I not care?  There is, in the end, nothing we do on this planet more important than the Mass.  Without the impossibly generous plan of salvation of which the Eucharist and therein the Mass is an integral part, nothing else we could do or say would amount to a hill of beans in the end estimation.  It is, as St. Pio said, that “[i]t would be easier for the world to survive without the sun than to do without Holy Mass.”  As I wrote in my comment on Jimmy’s post, Christ died to give us the Mass, martyrs shed their blood to protect it and Holy Mother Church has sheltered it in her bosom for centuries – it is not ours to do with as we please, no matter how wise or well-intentioned we may think we are.

There is, besides those pious observations, another reason.  I would say, for the purpose of picking a reasonably accurate number, probably 80% of your average parish that attends Mass even weekly does not attend any other formational activities.  That means that the great number of even the “committed” Catholics will never learn anything of their faith in their adult life if they do not learn it at Mass.  So if you play with the words, the signs or the symbols of the Mass you necessarily alter what the people learn.  Just as the Deposit of Faith is not ours to reinvent at our pleasure, so is the Mass which passes on that Faith not ours to reinvent.  Christ died for us, he died to give us the Mass – let us treat it as the great treasure it is.

“Is it fear or courage that compels you fleshling?”

Starting a blog post with a quote from Megatron, the arch-evil character from Transformers, is not something I ever imagined myself doing.  Somehow, however, the issue  and concept of fear have been bombarding me lately.  Several years ago I was laid off from my job after what can only be described as utterly killing myself for the company; knowing I couldn’t have done my job any better if I tried was slim comfort when staring at the prospect of not being able to feed my family.  I was, thanks be to God, extremely fortunate to land a job well before such a drastic thing could happen, but it left a constant hollow of fear – a gnawing sense that at any moment it all could go *poof*.  The need to somehow control tomorrow’s events today slowly grew into an almost OCD-like behavior.  I’d read over and again Jesus’ admonition to the Apostles to “not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” (Jn 14:27) but yet it always seemed so much easier to say than to do.  Fear becomes a pattern, and not just a repeating one but a pattern that builds on itself and grows and can become all-consuming given enough latitude.

Directly opposite Jesus’ direction we often hear “it’s okay to be afraid” and “fear is natural”.  Both of those seem self-evidently true on their face – so which is it?  Just telling someone it is okay to be afraid without any way of turning that fear to positive effect is just about as useless as telling someone to not be afraid when you yourself have no control either – it’s a nice thought but provides utterly no help to the other person.

After all these years of thinking about it, one significant difference finally dawned on me just a couple of days ago.  When we say either of the above we’re trying to be supportive and offer either a bit of encouragement or a kick in the keester.  But when Jesus told us to not let our hearts be troubled He said it not just as a brother and a friend, but as God who has control over every single thing in existence.  Do not be afraid…not just because I want to make you feel better, but because I sit at the right hand of the Father who values you more than every sparrow and knows every hair on your head (Mt 10:29-31) and I tell you “I know well the plans I have in mind for you … plans for your welfare, not for woe! plans to give you a future full of hope.” (Jer 29:11)

Maybe I’m just dense, or maybe I needed to hear it a thousand times and one, but when the only one who has any control in the matter says in essence “I know what I’m doing … trust me” … maybe I just need to try that idea out, even just a little bit.  People around me are constantly hearing me say “just give it a minute and you’ll see what I mean”.  Sometimes our own advice is that which is hardest for us to take.  Patience grasshopper, the Lord knows exactly what He’s doing.

From The Imitation of Christ, Book 2 Chapter 11:

Jesus has always many who love His heavenly kingdom, but few who bear His cross. He has many who desire consolation, but few who care for trial. He finds many to share His table, but few to take part in His fasting. All desire to be happy with Him; few wish to suffer anything for Him. Many follow Him to the breaking of bread, but few to the drinking of the chalice of His passion. Many revere His miracles; few approach the shame of the Cross. Many love Him as long as they encounter no hardship; many praise and bless Him as long as they receive some comfort from Him. But if Jesus hides Himself and leaves them for a while, they fall either into complaints or into deep dejection. Those, on the contrary, who love Him for His own sake and not for any comfort of their own, bless Him in all trial and anguish of heart as well as in the bliss of consolation. Even if He should never give them consolation, yet they would continue to praise Him and wish always to give Him thanks. What power there is in pure love for Jesus—love that is free from all self-interest and self-love!

Seek the Cross the and Consolations will come; seek only consolations and, well, you do the math.