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The Violence of the Crucifixion

The Violence of the Crucifixion | Dr. Leroy Huizenga | Catholic World Report

The Four Evangelists glory not in the cross’ gore but rather in its shame

One of my duties at the University of Mary in Bismarck, ND, where I chair the Theology Department, is to help our student music leaders select music appropriate for our well-attended masses. For a recent Wednesday in Lent, for offertory and communion the students selected “O Sacred Head Surrounded,” familiar to many, as well as “Glory Be to Jesus,” an eighteenth-century Italian hymn translated into English in the nineteenth.

The hymn we know as “O Sacred Head Surrounded” originated in Latin in the middle ages. The famous tune and words appear in the Passion Chorale in Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. German often sounds blunt to English ears, and the rendering of O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden / Voll Schmerz und voller Hohn in the English hymn is as brutal as the German: O Sacred Head surrounded / by crown of piercing thorn! / O bleeding head, so wounded / reviled and put to scorn!  The second stanza likewise speaks of death with cruel rigor and agony and dying. “Glory Be to Jesus” is similar, especially in the first stanza: Glory Be to Jesus / Who in bitter pains / Poured for me the lifeblood / from his sacred veins.

Having reviewed the lineup for the mass before the worship aid was to go to print, a member of our campus ministry team sent an email in which she wondered if the repeated references to Jesus’ corporal suffering weren’t a bit much, especially when presented in such a blunt and baroque fashion. My first thought was that it was deep into Lent, and so some lyrical reminders of the depths of the suffering of Christ were entirely appropriate. But our first reactions are not always right, and while we kept the hymns in place, in thinking about it I came to see my colleague had made a good point.

The hymns themselves are wonderful in tune and lyric; there’s nothing essentially wrong with them. But my friend’s instincts were good, for too often Christians focus on the gore involved in the torture and crucifixion of our Lord and miss out on the deeper violence of the crucifixion, the violence on which ancient writers and the Evangelists themselves concentrate.

Continue reading on the CWR site.

Notes from Rome by John Paul Shimek

Notes from Rome by John Paul Shimek | Catholic World Report

Blessed Pope John Paul II’s 1996 Apostolic Constitution Universi Dominici Gregis ordained that, “After the solemn ceremony of the inauguration of the Pontificate and within an appropriate time, the Pope will take possession of the Patriarchal Archbasilica of the Lateran, according to the prescribed ritual” (UDG, n. 92). On March 27, Vatican Information Service announced the date for that event. In an official bollettino of the Sala Stampa della Santa Sede, the Vatican announced that “The solemn celebration of the Eucharist during which Francis will take possession of the cathedra of the Bishop of Rome will take place in the Lateran Basilica on April 7th, the Second Sunday of Easter, or Divine Mercy Sunday, at 5:30pm.” Unlike Universi Dominici Gregis, the Press Office’s bulletin laid the stress on the ‘cathedra of the Bishop of Rome,’ not the ‘Patriarchal Archbasilica of the Lateran.’ It is well-known that Francis favors the title ‘Bishop of Rome’ over the title ‘Pope.’ He uses the first title much more often than the second one. For instance, on the night of his election, Pope Francis used the title ‘Bishop’ some six times, but did not use the title ‘Pope’ once.

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Pope Francis addressed crowds in Italian at this week’s General Audience, which was held inside St. Peter’s Square on March 27. After his address, assistants read translations of his remarks in various national languages. Then, Pope Francis greeted pilgrims in Italian. Although Francis speaks Spanish, French, German, and English, he has decided to address crowds in Italian, the language of the Bishop of Rome and his people. This custom differs from that of Blessed Pope John Paul II and Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. Both men used to address crowds in various languages.

Oftentimes, Pope Francis will address crowds in colloquial or Roman Italian. In the course of his first Angelus address, he called Cardinal Walter Kasper a theologian “in gamba,” which is akin to the German “Mensch.” At the same time, he takes note of Roman or Italian customs, wishing pilgrims a good pranzo. And, he identifies with Roman religious practices. On the morning after his election, he visited the image of the Salus Populi Romani at the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore. Pope Francis is making a conscious effort to appeal to the Roman people as their new bishop.  

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On March 27, the Vatican’s Sala Stampa confirmed that Pope Francis will continue residing at the Domus Sancta Marthae.

Continue reading on the CWR blog.

The Easter Triduum: Entering into the Paschal Mystery

The Easter Triduum: Entering into the Paschal Mystery | Carl E. Olson 

The liturgical year is a great and ongoing proclamation by the Church of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and a celebration of the Mystery of the Word. Through this yearly cycle, the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, "the various aspects of the one Paschal mystery unfold"(CCC 1171). The Easter Triduum holds a special place in the liturgical year because it marks the culmination of the yearly celebration in proclaiming the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

The Latin word triduum refers to a period of three days and has long been used to describe various three-day observances that prepared for a feast day through liturgy, prayer, and fasting. But it is most often used to describe the three days prior to the great feast of Easter: Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday and the Easter Vigil. The General Norms for the Liturgical Year state that the Easter Triduum begins with the evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday, "reaches its high point in the Easter Vigil, and closes with evening prayer on Easter Sunday" (par 19).

Three gifts offered by Jesus on His way to the Cross

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for March 24, 2013 | Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• At the procession with palms, Gospel: Lk 19:28-4
• Is 50:4-7
• Ps 22:8-9, 17-18, 19-20, 23-24
• Phil 2:6-11
• Lk 22:14—23:56

"It is done. We have judged our God and have ordered Him slain.
We will not have Christ with us more—He is in the way.”

Those lines open Paul Claudel’s poem, “The Way of the Cross”, a lyrical, moving reflection on the fourteen Stations. Claudel, who is one of my favorite poets, had a profound love and knowledge of the Bible (he wrote a book titled, The Essence of the Bible). His poetry has often opened up new and wonderful perspectives in my study of sacred Scripture.

In writing that Christ “is in the way,” Claudel emphasizes the two choices before each one of us: to embrace Jesus as The Way or to try to remove him from our way.

Those choices are evident throughout today’s reading from St. Luke’s Gospel. There is, in this reading, a series of gifts offered by Jesus as he, the King of kings, makes his way to his throne, the Cross. These gifts involve choices, not only on the part of man, but also on the part of the God-man. 

In the Upper Room, reclining with the apostles, Jesus took the bread and blessed it, and said, “This is my body, which will be given for you…” He took the cup, and said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which will be shed for you.” This, of course, is the gift of the Eucharist, “the source and summit of the Christian life,” the Body and Blood which nourishes the sons and daughters of God. This gift was offered along with the gift of the priesthood, through which this perfect and holy sacrifice has been perpetually offered (CCC, 611). 

Yet one of the Twelve rejected the gifts. Judas—grasping and greedy—had spitefully judged Jesus and believed he was now in the way. Judas refused to accept and be part of a kingdom rooted in self-sacrifice, suffering, and redemptive love. “But woe,” said Jesus, “to that man by whom he is betrayed.”

The gift of the cup of the New Covenant, the Catechism remarks, “is afterwards accepted by him from his Father's hands in his agony in the garden at Gethsemani…” (par. 612). This gift of Jesus—offering himself, his fears, and his horror of death—is a profound mystery, for it is bound up in mystery of the Incarnation. The second person of the Trinity, St. Paul states in today’s Epistle, had “emptied himself, taking the form of a slave” and had “humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death…” The first Adam had failed the test of love in the Garden of Eden when faced with the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But the new Adam, whose sweat in the Garden of Gethsemani “became like drops of blood,” humbly embraced the torturous trial of the tree of Golgotha. The anguish endured in private prayer in the Garden would soon be a public lamentation: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”

The third gift is that of love, redemption, salvation, reconciliation. It is the gift of the Cross, the gift of the Incarnate Word who did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. “The shame of his passion was not the fruit of his own will,” wrote St. Cyril of Alexandria, “but he still consented to undergo it that he might save the earth.” Arms stretched wide, Jesus embraced the world. He embraced the thief, who asked to be remembered in Paradise. He embraced the centurion, who gloried God. He embraces each one of us as we kneel in silence and contemplate those humble words of trust and filial devotion: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Jesus, for many people, is in the way. But for those who gaze upon the gift of the Cross, Jesus is the Way. In the beautiful words of Claudel:

“There is no cross of our living where His body will not fit.
There is no sin of ours for which He has not a wound.”

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the March 28, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Preparing for Holy Week and Easter

20% off select books and films in preparation for Holy Week and Easter
Offer ends March 26th, 2013 at 12:00 midnight EST
These prices are available online only through Ignatius.com

To prepare for Holy Week and Easter, Ignatius Press is offering 20% off of ideal books and films for the season.  Reflect on Our Lord's last days by reading Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week or delve into de Wohl's novel on the Crucifixion The Spear. Join top Bible experts as they discuss the true meaning of Christ's death and resurrection in the fascinating & informative documentary film Did Jesus Really Rise from The Dead? Choose from any one of these great titles, including the new biography of Pope Francis to help prepare yourself for the upcoming Easter season.

Francis: Pope of a New World Andrea Tornielli In the words, the ideas, and the personal recollections of Pope Francis--including material up to the final hours before his election--the most highly regarded Vatican observer on the international scene reveals the personality of this man of God, gentle and humble.This complete biography offers the keys to understanding the man who was a surprise choice, even a kind of revolutionary choice, for pope. It is the story of the humble pastor of one of the world's largest archdioceses; a cardinal who takes the bus, talks with common folk, and lives simply. Regular price: $19.95, sale price: $15.96	Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God, and no myth, revolutionary, or misunderstood prophet, insists Benedict XVI. This is a book for Christians—Catholics, Protestants, Orthodox—as well as other believers and nonbelievers. Benedict brings to his study the vast learning of a brilliant scholar, the passionate searching of a great mind, and the deep compassion of a pastor's heart. In the end, he dares readers to grapple with the meaning of Jesus' life, teaching, death, and Resurrection. Also available as an e-book and audio download. Regular price: $24.95, sale price: $12.95
The True Icon Paul Badde In this lavishly illustrated book, best-selling author Paul Badde sets out on a journey through Europe and the Holy Land as he traces the rich history of the Shroud. With the investigative skills of a seasoned journalist, Paul Badde uncovers many of the mysteries surrounding the Shroud and also researches another relic honored as a burial cloth of Christ-the Veil of Manoppello, which bears the image of the Holy Face. Also available as an e-book. Regular price: $22.95, sale price: $11.50	The Spear Louis de Wohl This panoramic novel of the last days of Christ ranges from the palaces of imperial Rome to the strife-torn hills of Judea-where the conflict of love and betrayal, revenge and redemption, reaches a mighty climax in the drama of the Crucifixion. For this is the full story of the world's most dramatic execution, as it affected one of its least-known participants-the man who hurled his spear into Christ on the Cross. Regular price: $17.95, sale price: $14.36
On the Passion of Christ Thomas a Kempis in this wonderful meditation book, perfect for Lent, or any time of the year, the great spiritual writer and monk gives profound, short reflections on Gospel passages about the passion and death of Christ. Each chapter, focusing on a specific aspect of the Passion of Our Lord, gives a prayer, a meditation and spiritual advice and closes with another short prayer. Also available as an e-book. Regular price: $12.95, sale price: $10.36	Behold the Pierced One Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger In this profound and illuminating work, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger turns the gaze of an accomplished theologian upon the crucified Savior. This synthetic and meditative work is theological without being abstract or dry, and spiritual without being sentimental. The pierced heart of Christ must be the heart of theology and Christian life as well. Also available as an e-book. Regular price: $11.95, sale price: $9.56
Life Out Of Death Hans Urs von Balthasar Death and dying are inseparably linked with life. They are self-evident and at the same time cannot be grasped by reason alone - they are ordinary, and yet so incredible. In these meditations, the acclaimed theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar investigates this great mystery. Also available as an e-book. Regular price: $11.95, sale price: $9.56

Casting the First Stone

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for March 17, 2013, the Sunday of the Fifth Week of Lent | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Is 43:16-21
• Ps 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6
• Phil 3:8-14
• Jn 8:1-11

Imagine being caught in a most serious and embarrassing sin, then taken into a crowded public area and placed before the man who will, apparently, determine your fate. You stand in the middle, between your accusers and your judge, like someone walking a tightrope with doom, perhaps death, waiting on either end.

You are lost, alone, damned. And you know you are guilty of the sin of which you have been accused. The only unsettled matter is the exact form of your punishment. You only hope it isn’t death.

We all have something in common with the woman caught in adultery: we are sinners in desperate need of mercy, without argument or alibi, completely at the mercy of a righteous judge. Lent, of course, is meant to remind us of this need for God’s mercy and forgiveness, not in order to make us feel enslaved, but to recognize anew the joy of salvation. “Those that sow tears,” today’s responsorial Psalm states, “shall reap rejoicing.”

A word that stands out to me in the story of Jesus and the adulterous woman is “caught.” The woman had been caught in adultery—probably through devious means, based on the absence of the guilty man. The scribes and the Pharisees hoped Jesus would be caught in their legal snare. Their trap was simple and seemingly airtight. The Law was clear about the punishment for sins such as adultery: “If a man is found lying with the wife of another man, both of them shall die, the man who lay with the woman, and the woman; so you shall purge the evil from Israel.” (Deut. 22:22; cf. Lev. 20:10). If Jesus allowed the woman to live, he would be accused of acting contrary to the Law. But, as St. Bede noted, if Jesus “determined that she was to be stoned, they would scoff at him inasmuch as he forgotten the mercy that he was always teaching.”

Jesus’ response was brilliant on both the legal and spiritual levels. First, he bent down and began to write on the ground, the only instance of Jesus writing that is recorded in the Gospels. What did he write? Speculation abounds. Perhaps the sins of some of the accusers? Perhaps something from the Law, such as, “You shall not join hands with a wicked man, to be a malicious witness” (Ex. 23:1)?

Whatever the words were that Jesus traced on the ground, they set up his stunning riposte: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” This turned the rhetorical thrust of the scribes and Pharisees back into themselves. In so doing, Jesus presented the accusers with difficult options: if any of them did throw a stone, he would have outrageously declared his moral perfection. And if anyone threw stones, they likely risked being severely punished by the Romans (cf. Jn. 18:31). If none of them threw a stone, they would admit implicitly their sinfulness. They were caught.

It wasn’t just that the scribes and Pharisees were sinners; it was the fact that Jesus had exposed their unjust and sinful use of the woman as a pawn. “He recognizes that,” observed Fr. Raymond Brown, “although they are zealous for the word of the Law, they are not interested in the purpose of the Law…” Beaten at their own game, the accusers melted away. “The two were left alone,” wrote St. Augustine in a memorable description, “the wretched woman and Mercy.”

Now you are standing face to face with the righteous teacher and merciful judge. You know your sins; you are well aware of what you deserve. Further, you know that Jesus has not overlooked your sins. “Therefore the Lord did also condemn,” insisted Augustine, “but condemned sins, not the sinner.” And so, while rejecting your sin, he accepts you. He invites you to a radical life of discipleship, liberated from sin and free from being precariously balanced between accusation and damnation.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the March 21, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The “Martyrdom” of Pope Benedict XVI

The “Martyrdom” of Pope Benedict XVI | Alberto Carosa | Catholic World Report

Don Nicola Bux, one of Benedict’s close collaborators, on the deeper meaning of the papal resignation

While Pope Benedict XVI’s resignation and the end of his pontificate is still sending shock waves throughout the world, Catholic World Report spoke with a senior theologian, Don Nicola Bux, among the closest collaborators of Benedict XVI, especially regarding liturgical matters, as he is a consultor to the Office of Liturgical Celebrations of the Supreme Pontiff.

Don Nicola Bux, a priest the Archdiocese of Bari, has studied and taught in Jerusalem and Rome. Professor of Eastern liturgy and theology of the sacraments in the Puglia Theological Faculty, he is consultant for the international theological journal Communio. Benedict XVI appointed him peritus (theological expert) at the synods of bishops on the Eucharist in 2005 and of the Middle East five years later.

He has authored numerous essays and ten books, already translated in many other languages. Among his books is Benedict XVI's Reform: The Liturgy Between Innovation and Tradition (Ignatius Press, 2012).

Don Nicola Bux met Joseph Ratzinger in mid-1980s, when Cardinal Ratzinger had just arrived in Rome from Monaco of Bavaria to assume duty as the new of Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. “In that time I participated in the Spiritual Exercises that Ratzinger held for the priests of Communion and Liberation'', Don Bux recalls.  

CWR: What is your opinion about the decision made by Benedict XVI?

Fr. Bux: First of all, this gesture must be seen in the perspective of faith, and not from an earthly viewpoint, which always tends to manipulate the Church. There have been various interpretations of the gesture: from the secularization of the papacy to a revolutionized ecclesiastical power, from the democratization of authority to the wounds inflicted on the body of the Church, even by exchanging a request for pardon for one of its defects, or with the questioning of papal infallibility. But did the abandonment of Benedict IX,  Celestine V and Gregory XII produce all this? Ratzinger himself has investigated in his studies how the Petrine primacy has a martyrological dimension: the responsibility of the Bishop of Rome is by all means personal and may not be diluted into episcopal  collegiality, although it is always interacting with it. And it’s impressive that Benedict XVI decreed the canonization date (May 12, 2013) of the Martyrs of Otranto for their heroic witnessing to the faith by shedding their blood precisely in the same consistory of the very same date, February 11^th, when he announced his resignation. 

CWR: Is the responsibility you are talking about related to the “consciousness” which Pope Beneidict often referred to especially in his battles against contemporary relativism?

Fr. Bux: Yes. “Responsibility” in this sense is meant as a personal response to the Lord. There is an insurmountable limit of consciousness, and not only for believers, but for all men. Do you remember the Talking Cricket? Pinocchio could also pretend that he was not there and throw a hammer at it, but it continued to speak. Benedict XVI has also explored this theme by reminding of “The praise of consciousness” by Blessed John Henry Newman, who in his letter to the Duke of Norfolk proposes a toast to the conscience and the Pope

The Petrine ministry, in the end, is the ultimate emergency appeal to the conscience of every man. In his speech in Latin announcing his decision to the world, the Holy Father clearly says: “I have  repeatedly asked my conscience before God.”

Compared to contemporary relativism that prompts consciousness into doing what one wants, for us it is the capacity to distinguish between good and evil, true and false. It is the “voice of God”. It’s the only defense to preserve the dignity of the person in his/her relationship with the world.

 CWR: The Pope asked his conscience at length and, therefore, with great spiritual suffering. Is it for this reason that you speak of “martyrological dimension” of the Petrine primacy?

Fr. Bux: Yes. The Petrine ministry has an inner martyrological dimension that enables one to incessantly ask whether, in conscience, what one is and what is being done are adequate to what are the inner aspects of the ministry of the Roman Pontiff. Such daily exercise can actually become martyrdom.

This is real “martyrdom”. Let me be clear, the task of asking oneself is for every human being. The father of the family must ask whether he is behaving himself for the good of his family. Just imagine what it is like for a Successor to Peter! And then there is something else you would have to realize—

Continue reading at www.CatholicWorldReport.com.

Hardships and Sonships

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, March 10, 2013, the Fourth Sunday of Lent | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
Jos 5:9a, 10-12
Ps 34:2-3, 4-5, 6-7
2 Cor 5:17-21
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32

“How could a loving God send people to hell?” 

It’s a question I’ve heard many times from people who balk at the claims of the Catholic Church because they believe she worships a supernatural despot intent on punishment, not love. Years ago the founder the local  “Freethinkers and Atheists’ Society” sent me a letter filled with angry attacks on the Christian God. “It must be comforting,” he wrote, “thinking that you’re going to heaven where you can look down at the billions of souls screaming and writhing in pain … consumed by flame for all of eternity, but never dying; all this courtesy of your all-compassionate and loving friend Jesus. . . . Do you find this condemnation the act of a moral god? Why would such a creature bother creating an entire system where the vast majority of his creation will spend all eternity burning in flames?”

Sadly, this is the case for many people who, for various reasons, believe God wishes to deny them happiness, fulfillment, and love. Today’s Gospel reading of the well-known parable of the Prodigal Son offers a very different perspective, which flows from the knowledge the Son has of both His Father and man’s fallen, sinful state. Seemingly simple, the parable is rich with meaning and conviction, for it captures the tension and love at the heart of human relationships while illuminating the difficulty we sometimes face in correctly understanding the mercy, justice, and love of our Heavenly Father. 

Part of the great power of Jesus’ story of the father and his two sons is how it brilliantly captures the viewpoint of each of the three men without ever losing any moral clarity. And I think that most readers can relate in some way to the desires of each man, even while recognizing that some of those desires are sinful and others are holy. For instance, we know what it is like to be rebellious and to think that God is hindering us from enjoying our lives on our terms. This is what the Catechism calls “the fascination of illusory freedom,” (CCC 1439) the belief that we can find meaning, joy, and peace apart from God. 

We also know what it is like to begrudge the joy of others, as the brother does, understanding our relationship with God in purely legalistic terms while failing to the embrace the sonship given to us in baptism. In his encyclical Dives in Misericordia, Pope John Paul II highlighted what this parable teaches about the dignity of the son who dwells in the father’s house. He points out that when the one son leaves, his greatest loss is not material, but the loss of familial life—the “tragedy of lost dignity, the awareness of squandered sonship” (par 5). Yet the son who never left had also squandered his sonship, having failed to see himself as a son first, not just an heir to material possessions.

The prodigal son, upon recognizing how far he had fallen and how he had wasted his life—his very being—on sinful pleasures, rediscovers his sonship, paradoxically, by recognizing that he is not worthy to be called a son: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I no longer deserve to be called your son.” His brother’s failure is shown not just in his anger at the feast prepared by the father, but by his refusal to address as “Father” the one who gave him life.  

Many who believe that God desires to punish them have confused the alienation caused by their rejection of God with divine anger. In exercising their free will, they miss that their freedom is a gift of love given by a merciful Father. He will not force anyone to come home; He will not make anyone embrace the gift of sonship. But He does wait, longing for the return of every lost soul “to the bosom of his family, which is the Church.” (CCC 1439).

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the March 18, 2007, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The Renaissance of the Mass Propers

The Renaissance of the Mass Propers | J. J. Ziegler | Catholic World Report

After years of neglect in many American parishes, chanted Mass propers are making a comeback, thanks in part to new online resources.

The publication of the new English translation of the Roman Missal has helped revive interest in the use of chant in the ordinary form of Holy Mass. The Roman Missal includes many more chanted texts than did the previous edition, allowing clergy and people alike to “sing the Mass, rather than merely to sing at Mass,” as Msgr. Andrew Wadsworth, executive director of the ICEL (International Committee on English in the Liturgy) Secretariat, said in a 2010 address.

The new Roman Missal includes a new translation of the General Instruction of the Roman Missal (GIRM), which also has fostered greater interest in chant. CitingSacrosanctum Concilium (the Second Vatican Council’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy) and subsequent curial documents, the GIRM states that “the main place should be given, all things being equal, to Gregorian chant, as being proper to the Roman Liturgy.… Since the faithful from different countries come together ever more frequently, it is desirable that they know how to sing together at least some parts of the Ordinary of the Mass in Latin, especially the Profession of Faith and the Lord’s Prayer, according to the simpler settings” (nos. 41-42).

When Catholics think of Gregorian chant at Mass, many tend first to think of chants associated with the Ordinary of the Mass—that is, the parts of the Mass that tend not to vary from day to day—for example, the Kyrie, Gloria, Profession of Faith (Credo), Sanctus, and Agnus Dei.

But there is also another set of chanted prayers at Mass: the propers, that is, five chants that are proper, or specific, to each Mass. The past two years have witnessed a revival of interest in the propers in parishes in the English-speaking world.

Continue reading on the CWR site.

The Divine Name and the Mystery of God

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, March 3, 2013, the Third Sunday of Lent | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Ex 3:1-8a, 13-15
• Ps 103: 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8, 11
• 1 Cor 10:1-6, 10-12
• Lk 13:1-9

When asked why they climb, professional mountaineers often give varied but interconnected reasons. They mention the challenge of doing something difficult and demanding, a deepening understanding of themselves, and, paradoxically, a loss of self-centeredness. In a similar way, those who spend time living alone in the wilderness can experience the same contemplative moments leading to a more honest and truthful view of themselves and others.

Mountains and desert play a prominent role throughout the Bible, not just on a physical plane, but on a spiritual level as well. Mountains were considered holy, ancient, and eternal; they were where God often met His prophets and people, as seen in last week’s Gospel reading describing the Transfiguration. The desert, as harsh as it was, often represented a place of safety, discipline, and waiting for the promises of God to come to fulfillment. If the mountain was where God would sometimes reveal Himself, the desert was where man’s trust in God was tested and increased.

Today’s reading from Exodus describes Moses, many years after leaving the Pharoah’s court in disgrace, tending sheep in the desert. Like another shepherd, David, he was toiling in anonymity—until he received the call of God at Horeb, the mountain of God. Also known as Mount Sinai, this was the same mountain that would shelter the prophet Elijah when he fled from Jezebel (1 Kings 19:8) and would, of course, be where Moses received the Commandments from God (Ex 19-20)

Moses’s encounter with the burning bush was as dramatic as it was mysterious. At first he was curious and then, upon realizing whose presence he was in, overcome with awe and fear, hiding his face. In remarking upon this encounter, the Catechism provides a simple but urgent lesson perfectly suited for Lent: “Faced with God's fascinating and mysterious presence, man discovers his own insignificance” (CCC 208). If there is anything clear about the name uttered before Moses, it is its mysterious nature: “In revealing his mysterious name, YHWH (‘I AM HE WHO IS’, ‘I AM WHO AM’ or ‘I AM WHO I AM’), God says who he is and by what name he is to be called. This divine name is mysterious just as God is mystery. It is at once a name revealed and something like the refusal of a name, and hence it better expresses God as what he is—infinitely above everything that we can understand or say…” (CCC 206). 

Although God is mystery, in giving His name He reveals that He is personal, loving, and faithful. Having revealed His name to Moses, “He has made known his ways to Moses”, as today’s Psalm proclaims. He desires the salvation of His people and He provides a means for that salvation. And so Moses is called from tending the sheep of his father-in-law to tending a new flock, the people of God, leading them out of Egypt, through the desert, and, after forty years, to the edge of the Promises Land. 

Today’s epistle makes a sacramental connection between the prophet Moses and the greatest prophet, Jesus Christ. The Israelites had experienced a sort of baptism (crossing the Red Sea) and Eucharist (miraculous manna and water); these prefigured the sacraments of the New Covenant established by Jesus, the New Moses. And yet the Israelites kept succumbing to idolatry. Saint Paul exhorted his readers in Corinth—who belonged to a church that was struggling with every type of scandal and sin—to learn from the mistakes made by the Israelites, for “these things happened as examples for us…” The lessons of the desert, if not learned and heeded, go to waste when those who think they are standing securely do not take care of their spiritual lives.

Lent is a microcosm of the mountains and deserts that every Christian travels between baptism and death. As the Holy Spirit helps us to understand ourselves better, we begin to recognize that our worth can be found in nothing else but the person of Jesus Christ. And He asks that we, in turn, bear the fruit of His life in us, so that we might give witness to the mystery of the God who is.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the March 11, 2007, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The Last of the Giants?

The Last of the Giants? | Carl E. Olson | Catholic World Report

It is too early to judge the pontificate of Benedict XVI, but Joseph Ratzinger's brilliance and holiness cannot be denied.

“Church as ours and ours alone is a pointless game in a sandbox.” — Fr. Joseph Ratzinger, 1970

This morning, as I watched live video of Pope Benedict XVI flying from the Vatican to the Castel Gandolfo, I felt, for the first time really, a deep sense of sadness. As the Holy Father stepped from the helicopter, his fatigue and frailty appeared quite obvious, even while his gaze seemed as focused and intent as ever. Then, a few moments later, he appeared on the balcony to make his final, brief address as pontiff.

“You know that today is different from others”, he said, “as of eight pm I will no longer be the Supreme Pontiff of the Catholic Church. I will simply be a pilgrim who is beginning the last part of his pilgrimage on earth.” Those familiar with the writings Joseph Ratzinger/Benedict XVI will recall the collection of his essays, Pilgrim Fellowship of Faith: The Church as Communion (Ignatius Press, 2005), presented to Cardinal Ratzinger on the occasion of his 75^th birthday. The title and subtitle captures, in just eight words, an essential focus of the thought and work of Ratzinger. In his final general audience, given two days ago, Benedict thanked those who had written him notes in recent weeks, reflecting on the meaning of those gestures of love and support:

In this you can touch what the Church is—not an organization, not an association for religious or humanitarian ends, but a living body, a communion of brothers and sisters in the Body of Jesus Christ who unites us all. Experiencing the Church in this way and being able to almost touch with our hands the strength of His truth and His love is a reason for joy at a time when many are speaking of its decline. See how the Church is alive today!

That passage came to mind as I watched the FOX broadcast of events at the Vatican and Castel Gandolfo. One of the reporters, who was obviously a Catholic, was asked a question about the heart of the Catholic Faith: what is it? She referenced the Church’s rich intellectual tradition and the Church’s stand for human rights, but she never mentioned the person of Jesus Christ. This stood out to me because Benedict himself, since announcing his resignation, has spoken several times about the relationship between Jesus Christ and his Church, a relationship that is all about a communion of life and love.

Perhaps the best example of this can be found in his lengthy and fascinating address to priests and clergy on February 14^th, a talk that might be described as a papal history of Vatican II:

Continue reading on the CWR site.

Reading the Catechism, Rebuilding Catholic Culture

Reading the Catechism, Rebuilding Catholic Culture | Carl E. Olson | Catholic World Report

An Interview with the author of Rebuilding Catholic Culture: How The Catechism Can Shape Our Common Life 

Dr. Ryan N. S. Topping earned a doctorate in theology at Oxford, is a Fellow at Thomas More College in New Hampshire, and has written two books about St. Augustine. His recently published book, Rebuilding Catholic Culture: How The Catechism Can Shape Our Common Life (Sophia Institute Press, 2012), has been praised by Fr. Aidan Nichols, OP (“This book deserves to take its place among the Catholic classics.”), Joseph Pearce (“Ryan Topping wields the Catechism as a weapon of wisdom…”), and Fr. John Saward (“This profound work of scholarship is a delight to read.”), among others.

Dr. Topping corresponded recently with Catholic World Report about his book, and discussed the Catechism of the Catholic Church, resisting the modern and secular “masters”, the challenges posed by modernity, the various assaults on Catholicism and the family, and why Kant rules our days and Nietzsche our night life.

Catholic World Report: It has now been nearly twenty years since the Catechism of the Catholic Church was published in English. How well or how poorly do you think it has been received and used in that time? How do you hope Rebuilding Catholic Culture will inspire a deeper reading and appreciation of the Catechism?

Dr. Topping: The work of the restoration of culture is the work of saints. How are saints born? They are born through grace, to be sure. But grace is aided by precept and example. The task of reclaiming our culture for the Church is a battle with many fronts. Far more important than good books is the renewal of liturgy within our churches and the restoration of order within our families and schools. Books rarely excite without lively teachers to place them in our hands.

To explain a doctrine is to teach, but to illustrate how its meaning can transform action is to excite. I tried to keep both of these aims in view while writing. My hope is that Rebuilding Catholic Culture will in some small way strengthen the nerve and excite the imagination of its readers.

CWR: You write, in the Introduction, that, “Intellectual humility is a great good, but self-imposed humiliation before our medical, moral, and political masters is unbecoming.” What are some examples of that “self-imposed humiliation” and why do so many Catholics embrace it? What are some examples of these modern masters? 

Dr. Topping: We improperly censure ourselves each time we talk about “faith communities” or “Christian values” or “gender”. None of these things exist in the Catholic lexicon. We belong to the Church, believe in good and evil, and are created male and female. Language shapes our perceptions. We need to recapture once more, through catechesis and in our schools and colleges, a grounding in the basics of Catholic philosophy. Not that everyone needs to become a scholar. But good philosophy is needed if only to counter bad philosophy. And our public discourse has been dominated for a very long time by those versed in sub-human philosophy.

How to reverse this trend? Every profession and trade affords its own opportunities for heroism. If you are a college president, refuse to remove crucifixes from your classrooms. If you are a principal of a Catholic high school, hire Catholic teachers. If you are a Catholic doctor, stick your neck out and refuse to prescribe contraception. If you are a mother, know what your children are being taught at school, and assert your role as the primary educator.
 
CWR: A central theme of your book is the uneasy and often contentious relationship between modernity and Catholicism. Why are you so hard on modernity? Hasn't it produced all sorts of wonderful technological, medical, and cultural advances and accomplishments? Are you simply pining for a golden age of Catholicism when the Church dominated culture and every other aspect of life? Aren’t you a bit young to be nostalgic for the Middle Ages?

Continue reading on the CWR site.

From Temptation to Transfiguration

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, February 24, 2013, the Second Sunday of Lent | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Gn 15:5-12, 17-18
• Ps 27:1, 7-8, 8-9, 13-14
• Phil 3:17—4:1
• Lk 9:28b-36

What a difference a week makes! From temptation in the desert to Transfiguration on the mount; from supernatural battle with Satan to supernatural glory before the disciples. It is a striking contrast between the respective Gospel readings for last Sunday and today. But while the temptation in the desert is obviously Lenten—in fact, it is the inspiration and foundation of this season—why is the Transfiguration a part of the Sunday readings during Lent?

Of course, the actual time between the temptation in the desert, which preceded Jesus’ public ministry, and the stunning event on the mountain was about two years or so. But just a week prior to the Transfiguration, Jesus had asked the disciples, “Who do the multitudes say I am?” (Lk. 9:18). After Peter, the head apostle, made his famous declaration, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matt. 16:16; Lk. 9:20), Jesus began to tell them that he would soon suffer many things, be rejected by the rulers, killed, and then “raised up on the third day” (Lk. 9:22). In Matthew’s account, the intrepid Peter, stunned by this revelation, rebuked Jesus, only to be rebuked, in turn, in no uncertain terms: “Get behind me, Satan!” (Matt. 16:23).

In sum, in the days leading up the Transfiguration, Jesus had directly confronted and demolished any false notions the disciples might have had about the nature of his mission. He strongly expressed the unwavering commitment he had to offering himself as a sacrifice for the world. His kingdom was not of this world, and he was not a political leader or a military warrior; he was not promising comfort and wealth. On the contrary, Jesus was promising a cross: “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk. 9:23). 

We can only try to imagine how disorienting and confusing this had to be for the disciples. Suffering, rejection, and rapidly approaching death were not parts of their plan! In the midst of this confusion and anxiety, Jesus took Peter, John, and James, the inner circle of the disciples, up to the mountain to pray, ascending, as it were, toward the heavenly places. There, above the tumult of the world and an ominous future, Jesus revealed his glory and gave them a dazzling glimpse of their eternal calling.

But the glory witnessed by the three apostles was not just about the future. “The Transfiguration,” notes Erasmo Leiva-Merikakis in Fire of Mercy, Heart of the World (Ignatius Press, 2003), “is the experience of the fullness of divine Presence, action, communication, and glory now, in our very midst, in this world of passingness and disappointment.” It is about the fullness of life now—not ordinary, natural life, but extraordinary, supernatural life. The Transfiguration is about the gift of divine sonship, which comes from the Father, who says of Jesus, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.”

St. Thomas Aquinas, in considering whether it was fitting that Jesus should be transfigured, observed that since Jesus exhorted his disciples to follow the path of His sufferings, it was right for them to see his glory, to taste for a moment such eternal splendor so they might persevere. He wrote, in the third part of the Summa, “The adoption of the sons of God is through a certain conformity of image to the natural Son of God. Now this takes place in two ways: first, by the grace of the wayfarer, which is imperfect conformity; secondly, by glory, which is perfect conformity…”

Peter and the disciples had to learn that Jesus’ death was necessary so his life could be fully revealed and given to the world. “On Tabor, light pours forth from him,” writes Leiva-Merikakis, “on Calvary it will be blood.” A week ago we entered into the desert of Lent; today we get a glimpse of the glory given to every son and daughter of God—glory conforming us to the Son.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the February 28, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

Related articles

"The Transfiguration: Gospel to the Dead" by Frank Sheed

The Image of Man Has Been Raised Up: On the Feast of the Ascension of the Lord

The Feast of the Transfiguration (and the 34th anniversary of Paul VI's death)

The Temptation reveals three important things

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, February 17, 2013, the First Sunday of Lent | Carl E. Olson

Readings:
• Dt 26:4-10
• Ps 91:1-2, 10-11, 12-13, 14-15
• Rom 10:8-13
• Lk 4:1-13

“The whole story of the Temptation is misconceived,” wrote Monsignor Ronald Knox, “if we do not recognize that it was an attempt made by Satan to find out whether our Lord was the Son of God or not.” In so writing, he echoed many of the Church Fathers, who pondered the question of what Satan knew and what he wished to accomplish in tempting Jesus in the desert. St. Ephrem the Syrian wrote, “He tempted Jesus because a definite sign of Christ’s divinity had not yet been given from heaven.” Yes, Ephrem noted, Satan was aware of Jesus’ baptism, but thought the true identity of Jesus couldn’t be known until he was tested in spiritual combat, through temptation.

It is a point worth contemplating on this first Sunday of Lent for three reasons: temptation reveals the nature of our enemy, it reveals the reality of our situation, and it reveals the identity of the sons and daughters of God.

The enemy has many names, including Beelzebul, the evil one, the ruler of the demons and of this world, the serpent, and the tempter. He is not a metaphor or a myth, but a real creature, a fallen angel. Pope Paul VI, in an audience titled, “Confronting the Devil’s power” (Nov. 15, 1972), said that refusing to acknowledge the devil’s existence or to explain him away as “a pseudo-reality, a conceptual, fanciful personification of the unknown causes of our misfortunes” is a complete rejection of Scripture and Church teaching. Ironically, the refusal of so many—including not a few Catholics—to admit the true identity of the devil is itself a dark triumph for the great deceiver.

The name “the devil,” comes from the Greek word diabolos (Latin, diabolus), which means “slanderer” or “accuser.” He seeks to accuse and slander each of us before God in his relentless desire to destroy souls. In doing so he has a certain advantage, namely, that on our own merits we have no real defense against his accusations. The reality of our situation is stark: we are sinners who often give into temptation and, in doing so, make ourselves subjects of the ruler of this world.

This fact is part and parcel of Jesus’ forty days in the desert. His time there was a purposeful re-enactment of the forty years the Israelites spent wandering in the desert. But whereas the Israelites failed, repeatedly, to obey, trust, and worship God, Jesus overcame the devil’s attempts to have him disobey, distrust, and deny God. “At the heart of the temptations,” notes Pope Benedict XVI in Jesus of Nazareth, “as we see here, is the act of pushing God aside because we perceive him as secondary, if not actually superfluous and annoying, in comparison with all the apparently far more urgent matters that fill our lives.”

We are rarely tempted to flatly deny the existence of God or to publicly curse him. Rather, we are tempted to gradually replace God, the highest good, with lesser goods: food, comfort, safety, possessions, and position. People rarely go from Christian to atheist in a matter of days or weeks. As Benedict points out, the devil is just as pleased when we demand that God caters to our wishes as he is when we reject God altogether. They are, in the end, not so different, especially when it comes to destroying the life of grace. 

“But,” some protest, “Jesus had an advantage: he is God!” Yet all who are baptized into Christ have put on Christ (cf. Rom 6). We are children of God because, by the work of Jesus, we are filled with the Holy Spirit. Today’s epistle states what is required in the face of temptation and trials: confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead.

In facing the enemy and rejecting temptation, Jesus revealed himself. Lent is our opportunity to do the same, in the name and power of the Lord.

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the February 21, 2010, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)

The Last Homily

The Last Homily | William L. Patenaude | Catholic World Report

Benedict XVI's Ash Wednesday homily emphasized again his pastoral and pontifical priorities

The Ash Wednesday homily given by Pope Benedict XVI—the last we will hear from this pope—demonstrated the pastoral and pontifical priorities of the son of Joseph and Maria Ratzinger—of the priest that seeks to decrease so that Christ may increase.

Pope Benedict began his homily not with himself but with the image of the many “gathered around the tomb of the Apostle Peter.” In doing so he positioned his homily squarely in that particular liturgy. He spoke to those people that were facing that altar, which fittingly for the occasion stands over the tomb of the first pope. Certainly, the Successor of Peter meant to instruct his worldwide flock, but he did so by addressing the individual men, women, and prelates in his presence.

Liturgy is, after all, a great deal about the people around you.

Given that holy place and the words of scripture proclaimed, Pope Benedict could uniquely focus on topics at the center of his theological and pastoral career: the place of the human person and the Church in salvation history; the reality of sin and the need for the Cross and for grace; and the transformative, loving ministry that all who claim Christ as their Lord are called to.

 The pontiff structured his final homily around the Ash Wednesday invitation from the Book of Joel: “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, with mourning” (2:12). This invitation is not a sentimental one. Pope Benedict made clear—as he has so often—that this plea by the Lord of Hosts is for a (probably painful) reorientation of one’s heart to the will, grace, and glory of God.

Continue reading on the CWR site.

"Great Lent" by Thomas Howard

Great Lent | Thomas Howard | From Evangelical Is Not Enough: Worship of God In Liturgy and Sacrament 

Presently Lent arrives. This is the forty days leading up to Easter, which also recall the forty days of Christ's temptation in the wilderness. There is a telescoping of things here, since His temptation did not in actual fact immediately precede His Passion, but "liturgical time" is such that spiritual significance may override chronological exactness.

Lent, like Advent, is a time of penitence. Here we identify ourselves with the Lord's fast and ordeal in the wilderness, which He bore for us.

This raises a point worth noting in passing. There are some varieties of Protestant theology and spirituality that so stress "the finished work of Christ" and the fact that He accomplished everything, that they leave no room at all for any participation on our part. Such participation, encouraged by the ancient Church, does not mean that we mortals claim any of the merit that attaches to Christ's work, much less that we can by one thousandth particle add to His work. Nevertheless, the gospel teaches us that Christians are more than mere followers of Christ. We are His Body and are drawn, somehow, into His own sufferings. We are even "crucified" with Him.

My own tradition stressed this, but it was taught as a metaphor that meant only the putting to death of sin in our members. There was very little said about the sense in which Christ draws His Body into His very self-giving for the life of the world and makes them part of this mystery. Saint Paul uses extravagant language about his own filling up "that which is behind of the afflictions of Christ." We had succinct enough explanations as to what he might have meant here, but these explanations allowed no room for any notion of our participating in Christ's offering. This was looked upon as heresy, violating the doctrine of grace .n which all is done by God and nothing by us. We are recipients only. That the gracious donation of salvation by God could in any manner include His making us a part of it all, as He made the Virgin Mary an actual part of the process, and as Saint Paul seems to teach, was not the note struck.

The ancient Church, in its observance of Lent, once more asks us to move through the gospel with Christ Himself. The most obvious mark of Lent to a newcomer is the matter of fasting. I had own about this practice all my life. My Catholic playmates would give up chocolates or Coke or ice cream for Lent. I also knew that a few devout people in my own tradition of evangelicalism practiced fasting now and again for special purposes—a time of especially concentrated prayer, for example. 

I myself thought of Lenten fasting and also of the old Catholic practice of refusing meat on Fridays as being legalistic, and perhaps even heretical, since it seemed to entail some notion of accruing merit. Since Christ had done all, why should we flagellate ourselves this way? Was it not a return to the weak and beggarly elements condemned by Saint Paul? Was it not to be guilty of the very thing that the apostle had a sailed the Galatian Christians for?

Lent: Why the Christian Must Deny Himself

 

Lent: Why the Christian Must Deny Himself | Brother Austin G. Murphy, O.S.B.

We still ask ourselves as Ash Wednesday approaches, "What am I doing for Lent? What am I giving up for Lent?" We can be grateful that the customs of giving up something for Lent and abstaining from meat on Fridays during Lent have survived in our secular society. But, unfortunately, it is doubtful that many practice them with understanding. Many perform them in good faith and with a vague sense of their value, and this is commendable. But if these acts of self-denial were better understood, they could be practiced with greater profit. Otherwise, they run the risk of falling out of use. 

A greater understanding of the practice of self-denial would naturally benefit those who customarily exercise it during Lent. Better comprehension of self-denial would also positively affect the way Christians live throughout the year. The importance of self-denial can be seen if we look specifically at fasting and use it as an example of self-denial in general. Indeed, fasting, for those who can practice it, is a crucial part of voluntary self-denial. 

But since we live in a consumerist society, where self-indulgence rather than self-denial is the rule, any suggestion to fast will sound strange to many ears. It is bound to arouse the questions: Why is fasting important? Why must a Christian practice it? Using these questions as a framework, we can construct one explanation, among many possible ones, of the importance of self-denial.

To answer the question "Why must the Christian fast?" we should first note that fasting, in itself, is neither good nor bad, but is morally neutral. But fasting is good insofar as it achieves a good end. Its value lies in it being an effective means for attaining greater virtue. And because it is a means for gaining virtue– and every Christian ought to be striving to grow in virtue–there is good reason to fast. 

Some people point out that fasting is not the most important thing and, therefore, they do not need to worry about it. Such reasoning displays a misunderstanding of our situation. But, since the excuse is common enough, some comments to refute it are worthwhile. 

Doing Small Things Well 

First, while it is true that fasting is not the most important thing in the world, this does not make fasting irrelevant or unimportant. There are, certainly, more urgent things to abstain from than food or drink, such as maliciousness, backbiting, grumbling, etc. But a person is mistaken to conclude that he therefore does not need to fast. He should not believe that he can ignore fasting and instead abstain in more important matters. Rather, fasting and avoiding those other vices go hand in hand. Fasting must accompany efforts to abstain in greater matters. For one thing, fasting teaches a person how to abstain in the first place. 

Moreover, it is presumptuous for a person to try to practice the greater virtues without first paying attention to the smaller ones. As Our Lord says, "He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much" [1] and so can be trusted with greater things. Therefore, if a person wants to be able to abstain in greater matters he must not neglect to abstain in smaller matters, such as through fasting. 

Finally, there is a subtle form of pride present in the person who says that because something is not very important, he does not need to do it. Whoever makes such a claim implies that he does only important things. But the average person is rarely called to do very important things. Accordingly, each person is more likely to be judged on how he did the little, everyday things. Even when, rarely, a person is called to do a great work, how often does he fall short? All the more reason, then, for a person to make sure that he at least does the small things well. Furthermore, if he truly loves the Lord, he will gladly do anything–big or small–for him. So, in the end, saying that fasting is not the most important thing is not a good excuse for avoiding it. 

What, then, is the reason for fasting?

Tell Me I’m Not Good Enough: An Ash Wednesday Request

Tell Me I’m Not Good Enough: An Ash Wednesday Request | David Paul Deavel | Catholic World Report

Those who come to be marked by ashes are looking for what might be called the “bad news of the Gospel.”

“Because they know I’m not good enough.” 

The answer was emphatically not what I was expecting.  “Janet” (not her real name), raised Catholic and Lutheran in spots and now “nothing” (her words), had been saying how she missed ritual and the touch of God in her life.  She wanted these for her husband and children, too.  I was encouraging her to come back to Catholic faith when she declared that the only group she felt comfortable belonging to was the local organic foods co-op.  I asked her why, expecting something about the co-op’s “openness” and “acceptance.” 

But she said it very plainly:  “Because they know I’m not good enough.”

Janet is certainly not like “Mrs. Begorrah,” the character in Bernard Basset’s novel Priest in the Presbytery, “who was easiest to please, for she asked no more of the [preacher] than plenty of hell-fire. . .”.   Janet does not like threats.  But she does like truth.  And the truth is that she feels a discontent with herself that is not simply the result of low self-esteem or a slightly-off brain chemistry or unrealistic expectations or a dysfunctional family background.  The co-op, while accepting her, says without qualm that her lifestyle is unhealthy and she needs to change to be healthy and right with Nature.  But the discontent is still there.  

Janet might be religiously “nothing” now but she is disturbed.  And in her disturbance is a lesson for the preacher on Ash Wednesday. 

Continue to read on the CWR site.

New: "A Sense of the Sacred: Roman Catholic Worship In The Middle Ages"

Now available from Ignatius Press:

A Sense of the Sacred: Roman Catholic Worship In The Middle Ages

by James Monti

This incomparable volume presents a comprehensive exploration and explanation of medieval liturgical celebrations. The reverent prayers, hymns and rubrics used in the Middle Ages are described in detail and interpreted through the commentary of scholars from the same time period, the era which is also known as the "Age of Faith".

Collected here is a wide range of ceremonies, encompassing the seven sacraments, the major feasts of the liturgical year (such as Christmas, Easter, and Corpus Christi), and special liturgical rites (from the coronation of the pope to the blessing of expectant mothers). The sacred celebrations have been drawn from countries across western and central Europe-from Portugal to Poland-but particular attention has been given to liturgical texts of medieval Spain, which until now have received relatively little attention from scholars.

Historian James Monti has done exhaustive research on medieval liturgical manuscripts, early printed missals, and the writings of medieval liturgists and theologians so that the treasures they contain can inspire a sense of the sacred in future generations of Catholics.

James Monti is an author and historian who has contributed numerous articles to Catholic publications, including the monthly missal Magnificat. His other books include The King's Good Servant But God's First: The Life & Writings of St. Thomas More, The Week of Salvation and In the Presence of Our Lord.

"James Monti's treatise is an astonishing achievement, a book that can and will shape a new generation of intellectuals who are serious about the Catholic liturgy. Despite the title, this book is not only about medieval liturgy. It's about inspiring the creation of, and the provision of access to, truly sacred spaces in our time, even in a world that seems so barren of them. My own special interest is in Gregorian chant, but Monti's book helps broaden the picture to include a spiritual panorama of extraordinary breadth and depth. We have so much to learn from the past and so much to work toward for a bright and beautiful future of recaptured truth. "
- Jeffrey Tucker, Managing Editor, Sacred Music

"Among the ambiguous legacy of the Liturgical Movement of the twentieth century is the neglect and incomprehension of medieval liturgy. This book is a welcome contribution towards redressing this imbalance. James Monti recovers the tradition of mystical commentary on the sacred rites, a common heritage of East and West, and enriches it with his vast historical erudition. This volume will serve as a useful resource for anyone who wishes to enter into the spirit of the liturgy that shaped a millennium of Christian history." 
- Fr Uwe Michael Lang, Cong.Orat., Author, Turning Towards the Lord

"James Monti's profound faith and incomparable scholarship shine in A Sense of the Sacred. This beautiful book, packed with amazing details and fascinating facts, makes the mystical richness of the Church's sacraments and sacred rituals come alive. One is struck with awe at the wonder of Catholic worship. This remarkable volume is clearly the fruit of one who deeply loves the liturgy and lives the mystery."
- Fr. Peter Cameron, O.P., Editor of Magnificat

God initiates. Man responds. Jesus calls. Man answers.

A Scriptural Reflection on the Readings for Sunday, February 10, 2013 | Carl E. Olson

Readings:

Is 6:1-2a, 3-8
Ps 138:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 7-8
1 Cor 15:1-11 or 15:3-8
Lk 5:1-11

God initiates. Man responds. Jesus calls. Man answers.

Such is the dynamic relationship at the heart of salvation history and at the center of human existence. “Through an utterly free decision,” the Catechism explains, “God has revealed himself and given himself to man. This he does by revealing the mystery, his plan of loving goodness, formed from all eternity in Christ, for the benefit of all men.” Today’s readings offer a challenging view of God’s revelation of Himself, His call to specific men, and His desire for all Christians to be “fishers of men.” 

Let’s take a brief look at three men caught up in the divine drama: the prophet Isaiah, the apostle Paul, and Peter, the head of the Apostles and the first Pope. In many respects they were quite different from one another. Isaiah was likely from an upper-class family, was apparently well educated, and was married to a prophetess (Isa 8:3). Paul was also highly educated, the prize student of the great rabbi Gamaliel (Acts 22:3), and, prior to his conversion on the Damascus Road, a fervent enemy of the budding Church. Peter was certainly fervent as well, but was a fisherman and a blue-collar businessman. Yet, however different they were from one another, each man was called, in dramatic and personal fashion, to proclaim the Word of God in difficult, harrowing circumstances. 

Some seven centuries prior to Jesus and the apostles, the prophet Isaiah had a dazzling vision of the throne room of the Lord of hosts. Yahweh, the Holy One of Israel, initiated contact with the prophet and called him to the task of proclaiming the glory of God and exhorting Israel and Judah to repent of their sins. Isaiah recognized and confessed his own sinful state: “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips…”

As the Catechism says so well, “Faced with God’s fascinating and mysterious presence, man discovers his own insignificance” (CCC 208). When man sees himself in the light of God’s holiness and recognizes his desperate plight, he can then admit his sinful state and be given the grace needed for the work of God. “See,” Isaiah was told by the seraphim, “now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.”

Paul was also transformed and purified by a heavenly vision. Having held the cloaks of those who stoned Stephen, the first martyr, the young Saul was intent on persecuting the Church in Jerusalem and the surrounding areas (Acts 7:58; 8:1-3). Then, while traveling to Damascus in search of more Christians to arrest, “a light from the sky suddenly flashed around him” (Acts 9:3). As he wrote to the church in Corinth, in today’s Epistle, “Last of all, as to one born abnormally, he appeared to me. For I am the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” Whereas Isaiah’s sinful lips were purified by fire, Paul’s blinded eyes were healed by the prayer and hands of Ananias, a disciple of Jesus Christ.  

Paul eventually spent time with Peter (cf. Gal 1:18), whose life contained more than a few instances of dramatic response to God’s call. Luke’s account of the miraculous catch of fish sets the stage for one such moment; it begins with the note that the crowds following Jesus were eagerly “listening to the word of God.” Some of the early Church Fathers, such as Ambrose and Augustine, saw this event as both historical and metaphorical: the boat of Peter represents the Church in history, going forth to catch men through the guidance of Christ, the head of the Church. Peter, who would eventually be the Vicar of Christ (Matt 16:16-18), accepted by faith the command of Jesus. Upon witnessing the miracle he responded with the same humility as Isaiah and Paul: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Yet Jesus does not ask only Peter and the apostles to be fishers of men; He asks it of every son and daughter of God. 

God is calling. How will we answer? Jesus tells us to cast our nets. Will we?

(This "Opening the Word" column originally appeared in the February 4, 2007, edition of Our Sunday Visitor newspaper.)