Ubi Petrus

In Pope Benedict XVI’s homily at the Mass yesterday on the anniversary of Pope John Paul II’s death, he made a most eloquent observation in reflecting on the last days of his predecessor:

That eloquent scene of human suffering and faith, in that last Good Friday, also indicated to believers and to the world the secret of every Christian life […] That ‘be not afraid’ was not based on human strength, nor on successes accomplished, but rather, only on the word of God, on the cross and resurrection of Christ. In the degree in which he was being stripped of everything, at the end, even of his very words, this total surrender to Christ manifested itself with increasing clarity.

Salt and Light has also put together a video in honor of the anniversary, which when combined with this reflection is most powerful. I hadn’t realized how powerful it all would be even after three years.

Driving home last night from our weekly Tuesday class at our parish I noticed a distinct wood smoke smell. The scent quickly grew stronger and just as I was about to turn down another road I saw the lights from several fire engines ahead. This was no little trash fire. Not by a long shot.

Roughly 100 people lived in the building; at this point it’s believed they have all lost everything. It goes without saying those affected could use your prayers. Ave Maria, gratia plena…

This past weekend, thanks to a series of issues, I had the opportunity to take my son to the Seventh Trumpet Mass for vocations at the Abbey Church at St. Anselm College here in Manchester. Now, being a moderately nice day and since he had already gone to Mass in the morning with my wife and daughter, he was less than thrilled with the idea as we got ready to leave (my wife and daughter were off at a birthday party, and I had to go to make my Sunday obligation, so no I’m not intentionally making this an unnecessary battle at this point). I think at one point he finally fell into hoping that I’d get lost on the way there and we’d have to just head home. That I was poking around the St. Anselm’s web site to figure out where I was going just before we left probably gave him some level of hope.

Much to his initial chagrin we made it there as if drawn by a wire. As an aside, I must say they do have a very nice campus. Oh, and yes, that was me almost trying to park in the “Monastery Only” parking area – mea culpa. At first from the outside my initial reaction was “oh no, a church-in-the round!” Thanks be to God when I got inside I discovered I was not only wrong, but very glad to be so. The pews are only slightly angled, so one is never facing another member of the congregation, and the altar stands at the center between the pews and the monastic choir stalls. The huge ceiling combined with the depth of the choir stalls makes the otherwise small nave seem positively massive. While I don’t often agree with having the tabernacle off to the side in a church, with the open schedule and possible flow of non-worshipers due to the campus setting I think this fits the intended situation to not have the tabernacle front-and-center. I’m sure I’m not the only one to quibble with the nondescript (and non-descriptive) stained glass, but overall the church is pretty well done.

I won’t say much about the Chaplet of Divine Mercy which while capably sung was neither extraordinarily good nor extraordinarily bad. Since he has not been much exposed to the Chaplet my son wasn’t quite sure how to participate. Even after learning the words, being the shy type, he still remained fairly reclusive. Ah, the pains of we the introverts… If it had ended there I wouldn’t have thought the trip much of a success. Fortunately, there was more to come.

As we waited for Mass to start, I had the opportunity to point out to him how every single person who walked in front of the tabernacle genuflected properly rather than the duck-n-run that we so often see these days if one even makes the attempt at all. As the servers milled about in their albs and one of the monks popped in and out in his cassock I could see him intently following their motions. When the procession began I made sure to point out to him how the server was simultaneously reverent and giving full motion as the thurible swung to and fro, as if to make the point that something serious and important was coming. No simple six-inch wiggle for this man, no he had the thurible completing a near 180-degree arc each time as he led the stately procession, at the end of which was the Abbott. Between the flying thurible, the mitre and the crosier my son was already hooked.

I’ll not bother with the rest of the Mass – suffice it to say that at this point even my son was fully engaged and experiencing “active participation” in a whole new way. So to all those who think the smells-n-bells turn off the younger generation, I have first-hand proof of precisely the opposite. So many teaching opportunities crammed into such a short period of time, and all this to a kid who wasn’t very interested in being there at the start. I’ll say only this – if you want to catch them while they’re young, don’t fear the ceremony. They’ve seen guitars on the Wiggles and happy-go-lucky on Barney. But show them a flying thurible and a crosier and this purportedly disinterested generation snaps to in a heartbeat. I only hope this lesson is learned sooner than later.

Maybe it’s just because I really needed a laugh today, or maybe it’s just because I’m more than just a little geeky. Either way, Kevin’s Quirky Bibles post gave me more than a couple good chuckles. A couple of examples:

Another Robert Barker edition, of the King James Bible in 1631, is the most notorious. At Exodus 20.14, it reads “Thou shalt commit adultery.”

and

The Wife-Hater Bible of 1810 was named for its text of Luke 14.26: “If any . . . hate not . . . his own wife also.”

And just to prove that typesetters aren’t always your best friend:

In 1950, volume 1 of the Old Testament published by the Episcopal Committee of the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine included “skunk” in Leviticus 11.30. The typesetter “corrected” the intended skink, a kind of lizard.

When I first started this blog I thought I’d like to post reflections on the Sunday readings. Not so much homilies since, well, I’m not ordained (although, yes, that Diaconate bell rings louder with the passing of time, but that’s another story) but simply reflections. Hard as it may seem to believe, I didn’t start this blog as an attempt to foist my insufficiently considered opinions on matters nearer the edge of my grasp than the center on anyone, even though it seems that’s what I’ve spent more of my column-inches on.

Doing this is more than just a little unnerving because it opens me up to the realization of just how shallow my theological grounding is. But hey, these are just reflections, so take them for what they’re worth. I’ll start with the readings for this Sunday, the Second Sunday of Easter – Acts 2:42-47; Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24; 1 Pt 1:3-9; Jn 20:19-31.

First, let me ask – how many of us realize that this is the “Second Sunday” of Easter? When I entered the Church it amazed me how many people did not realize that Easter wasn’t just Easter Sunday. You could see lights clicking on in peoples’ heads as it was explained to them that, akin to how our Triduum is in fact one great event, the significance and the joy of Easter cannot be contained in just one Sunday. For some the concept of the liturgical season of Easter is familiar, but an entire eight days – Sunday to Sunday – comprising a great feast, the octave of Easter comes as a revelation to many. As we say each Sunday is a “mini-Easter” so the one great Easter celebration needs to break out beyond just the one twenty-four hour period and stands at the center of our year proclaiming the joy of all joys, that Christ is risen!

Of all the themes we see running through the readings today it is joy that is paramount:

They ate their meals with exultation and sincerity of heart, praising God and enjoying favor with all the people. — Acts 2:46-47a

and

My strength and my courage is the Lord, and he has been my savior. The joyful shout of victory in the tents of the just. — Ps 118:13-15

and again

Although you have not seen him you love him; even though you do not see him now yet believe in him, you rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, as you attain the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. — 1 Pt 1:8-9

and finally

The disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. — Jn 20:20b

Indeed there is great joy in all of these readings – it is simply bursting out of all the seams. And it is for good reason too! Just as the ancient Israelites rejoiced greatly at their exodus from slavery in Egypt these readings speak to us of the great joy of our ancient Church at our exodus from heretofore unbroken bondage of sin, those chains broken by our Risen Lord. That joy breaks forth ten and a hundred and a thousand times more than even the joy at the first exodus for this was a far greater enemy – the Egyptians could harm and destroy the body, but sin damages and corrodes the soul; the former in its form is temporary, the latter is forever. This was a freeing that I would venture to guess very few ever saw coming.

As we stand in church this Sunday, doing as we always do, let us remember that great joy that is ours if we reach for it – the great joy of God breaking into our world, taking on humanity including all its trials, sufferings and heartaches, dying – dying – and rising again all because He loves us so much He wants to offer us the one thing that will truly make us happy, life with Him. This joy is ours, offered to us every day in the Eucharist and indeed in all the sacraments of the Church, a joy unlike anything the world could ever offer. We rejoice because, well, how else can you respond to such a tremendous gift? We rejoice because Jesus’ words we heard a week ago, “Do not be afraid” now make sense – how could we be afraid? Jesus, the Christ, the Son of Man and the Son of God, Our Savior has defeated death and offered to us the remission of our sins. We stand every day at the threshold of a life so new, so full, so pure it boggles the mind to even contemplate. Jesus stands before us, beckoning us on; He will come to us in the Eucharist in a form wholly unlike any other offering to make His home in us if we will make our home in Him.

When you go forth to receive Communion, remember Jesus’ words to Thomas: “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Let our response be as Thomas’ – joy so overwhelming it transcends speeches and reduces the Apostle to one of the most beautiful statements in the whole Bible: “My Lord and my God!” Be not afraid, brethren. Our God is good. He is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Carolina Canonball just posted this picture of the beautiful sanctuary at St. Agnes’ church in St. Paul, MN:

My first reaction… “Would we even have the guts to build something so … in-your-face Catholic these days?” Aside from the work of the likes of Duncan Stroik, even those new churches we are building which pass the muster of beautiful I question whether we have the courage to transcend beauty at a generic level to bring out the fullness open only to the Catholic (and yes, the Orthodox share in that fullness but truly in their own unique way) faith.

I’m not suggesting that every new church or every retrofit need go for the high Baroque but simply fully, truly, totally Catholic. If you were to walk into the above-pictured church you would immediately know it’s Catholic, you would immediately know you were in the domus Dei. But it takes a certain self-assuredness – not triumphalism – to build something which says, “we have built here of the best we have to offer to God, we have emptied our warehouse in our desire to honor and praise Him”. When you’re not really sure of yourself, of your methods of expression, you naturally hold back that which is so clearly identifying and trend towards the middle.

So I ask – do we have the courage to be, not just Catholic, but fully Catholic in all the ways that shows itself? I think that in some areas that willingness is starting to peek out again. Jesus did not choose a half-measure or even a ninety-percent solution in our salvation – he emptied himself completely, draining himself to the last measure. Should that not be our guide in everything we do in worship and praise?

Sometimes breaking a record just isn’t worth it…

MANCHESTER, N.H. — The calendar may say that it’s spring, but that didn’t stop Mother Nature from dumping more snow on the Granite State.

New Hampshire broke the record for most snowfall in one season in the last 100 years around 8 a.m. News 9 Meteorologist Josh Judge said even more snow is on the way.

Being a person who neither skis nor particularly enjoys being cold, I find no great joy in this record. My neighbor, on the other hand, is glad that he’s finally not barely breaking even on his season lift passes as compared to recent years. Time to go remove the foot or so of snow at the end of my driveway… *sigh*

There’s an old saying “no good deed goes unpunished”. Indeed:

DETROIT, March 27, 2008 (LifeSiteNews.com) – The leader of an investigation that discovered bodies of unborn babies and private medical records in an abortion clinic dumpster has been billed by Michigan’s Department of Environmental Quality (DEQ) for the removal of the evidence. In the meantime, the abortionist has himself escaped without any significant punishment. Dr. Monica Migliorino Miller, director of Citizens for a Pro-Life Society, has been billed $1,100 by the DEQ for the removal of evidence against the Lathrup Village Woman Care clinic, operated by abortionist Alberto Hodari. The evidence, discovered in dumpsters behind the clinic and videotaped by Miller, consists of the recognizable remains of at least 18 aborted children, numerous records with personal and detailed information of Hodari’s patients, as well as other bio-hazardous waste material.

…

“That Michigan authorities did not have the courage to bring the maximum penalty the law can afford against this abortionist sends a terrible signal to the abortion industry,” said Brown. “Now that they have gotten away with it once, we can, unfortunately, be sure they will feel more emboldened in their grisly acts of violence against preborn babies.”

It is a dangerous and difficult thing to stand up to evil. And now we can add “expensive” to that list. I so desperately want to be surprised, but it just isn’t happening. How long, O Lord, how long?

In our Gospel reading from the Easter vigil, we see the angel rolled back the stone from the tomb and then “sat upon it”. My question to you: What kind of pose do you think the angel struck when sitting upon the stone? Duke it out in the combox if you’re so inclined.

Me, I think he put his chin on his hand and serenely watched the guards lose any sense of composure. I have to think that angels, made by a good and generous God, are blessed with a sense of humor. That I even thought of this question at all shows how quirky a sense of humor I have been blessed with as well.