WHO SAYS CATHOLICS AREN'T FUN?

Okay, THAT was supposed to be the title of last week's post of a similar name.  But it works out as it seems to fit well the topic that came up on a road trip yesterday.

 

Fr. Pf and I went to visit a friend, Fr. Miller in Pittsburgh.  You know, Pittsburgh is really a great town (at least the parts in which we were.)  One of the things we did was visit churches.  (Sounds like a blast doesn't it? - To each his own.)  At the parishes we visited there were places to light candles and to write petitions and such.  At each place I would offer up prayers for St. Sebastian and that I might be a good pastor to her people.

 

One really cool place we visited was St. Patrick.  "First in Faith!" it claimed as the first parish in the city.  Here is some information on it.  It's a tiny church and not all that beautiful but it was extremely interesting.  When you walk in you are confronted with a giant, marble staircase.  No!  The stairs are not for walking!  A sign an the kneeler before the stairs states, "HOLY STAIRS!  Ascend on knees - ONLY!"  For those who wish to get up to the church on their feet, there are lesser stairs on either side of the lobby to take you up to the Church as the sign states, "Please use stairs on either side of Front Doors."  As you can see, I went up the main stairs praying for the parish and for my ministry.  (Thank you Fr. Miller for taking the picture with your phone.  The nave upstairs was incredibly small.  Maybe it sat 60 people.)

 

But here was what we were discussing later as we ate lunch:  Is not the Catholic imagination cool?  We engage our not only our minds and souls but our very bodies in different acts of prayer.  There are ALL KINDS of prayers that a person may do and some are quite imaginative.  (Some also heretical so we are to be careful.)  Where is the Protestant imagination to match that of the Catholic?  How many ways can we bring the body into prayer such as being transported to walk along with Jesus in the Stations of the Cross?  Visiting Christ in pilgrimage?  Lighting a candle?  Writing a petition in a petition book?  Bringing flowers to a shrine?  Climbing stairs on your knees - just to mention a few!  How rich!  How engaging!  How diverse!  How FUN!  How Catholic!

VIRTUAL UNITY?

“Community is lost in virtual communion” was the title of an editorial that appeared in the Beacon Journal last week written by Alex Beam of the Boston Globe.  It concerns a Methodist minister in North Carolina who wants to start a “virtual campus” of religious services via computer which would include Holy Communion, one of two sacraments, the other being baptism, that the Methodists recognize.  Adherents would be able to have a house Church of sorts, gathering together on line to pray under the leadership of a pastor.

 

The article was against this idea.  I must admit that I am not that much against it.  Not for Catholics mind you, but for much of the Protestant world I do not think it that far off track.  Once one lets go of the catholic ideal in the small “c” sense (that they may all be one John 17:21), how can one really argue against it as long as certain precautions are met.  The word catholic means universal.  For Catholics, it means one Church for all peoples, all times, everywhere.  There a ton of implications with that, far too many to go into here but which include such as unity in worship, leadership, belief, and etc.

 

But what if you are starting point is a division?  (Remember, I am taking this from a Catholic position, my Protestant brothers and sisters will take a very different view.)  For example, the minister cited above makes the argument that Methodism’s cofounder, John Wesley, was a radical religious innovator in the 18^th century.  Part of that innovation was to break from established Church and begin something new (or old, if one believes they were returning to something original in Christ’s mission.)  A new Church was formed with its own belief system and hierarchy.  What gave them the authority to do so?  Well, one argument is that the Bible did.  The Holy Spirit did.  The teachings of Jesus did. 

 

There was in interesting religious (non-denominational Protestant) talk show on the radio a few years ago (the particulars escape me now) concerning the problem of people not showing up for Protestant services.  A man called in who said he and few other families were no longer satisfied with the Protestant churches in his area and so, after taking classes in the Bible, they decided to start their own Church.  They gather at each other’s homes on Sunday morning, sing, read Scriptures, and have a sermon that is crafted just for them.  The radio host admitted that he could not argue with him.  They were getting back to the roots of Christianity (in their view.)  Where did they get their authority to do this?  The same place that John Wesley did.

 

The on-line Church is just the next phase of this I would think.  Why not?  The biggest question would be why bother?  Perhaps it would be nice not to have to write your own sermon, study the Bible, or come up with your own hymns.  But instead PayPaling this minister, why not invite your two neighbors over and start your own Church?  It seems a natural evolution of the roots of the movement. 

 

Unless your theology is really about universal community and sacraments and Apostolic succession (as the Catholic Church holds it) and human touch and voice and unity as a corporate body connected in worship, leadership, and belief.  Then there is a problem. 

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: A TIME NOT TO DIVIDE AND CONQUER

Paragraph 26 of Lumen Gentium

 

A buddy of mine was leading a discussion group on the Vatican II documents to help celebrate the Year of Faith and afterwards some of the class went out for dinner.  Sitting on the table was the Flannery addition of the Vatican Council II documents.  I person came by and tapped the book with his finger and said, “You should join our church.  We actually live these documents.”  The person was from a break away parish in our diocese.

 

“That’s interesting,” replied my friend, “because according to the very documents you site, it says very specifically that we must be connected to our bishop.”

 

The person did not believe him and went away angry.  Today, in chapter 26 it says just that.  The bishop with his fullness of orders is responsible for celebrating and making sure that Mass is celebrated within his diocese “from which the Church every derives its life and on which it thrives.”  The priest legitimately celebrates Mass when he is connected to his bishop.  (You can’t just decide to open a McDonalds on your own and neither can one open a Catholic Church similarly.)  Each local “altar” the gathered faithful in so far as they are connected to their pastor who is unified with the local see are rightly called Church.  In this we are called to unity in the Body of Christ.  For this reason every Mass is regulated by the bishop who is the local shepherd of souls.

 

In fact, he is the overseer of all the sacraments – the first preference of the one who may celebrate.  It is his job to sanctify and build up those within the diocese.  He does this first of all by example – living a Christian life and evermore striving to be better at it.

 

At the other end of this (personal commentary here) his not doing well at this (at least in the opinion of certain circles) is not an excuse for breaking our part of the bargain.  The Church has been filled with poor bureaucrats, misguided churchmen, and downright scoundrels.  But the cure has never been to further cleave open divisions within the Church.  One may be called to do more than the proverbial, “pray like he** and wait for the bodies to float by,” but division is never the answer.

FRIDAY POTPOURRI: DEFINING YOUR PARISH III

Statues should not be that difficult to identify. If it is not well known in the parish or of there is not some sort of name plate, blue prints will help. “Shrine to Saint Clare” it would read. In any event it is unlikely there will be an unknown saint in your parish. If there is and there are no “old-time” parishioners who can be contacted for an interview, a book on symbolism or saints will be needed to help you do research. A book on symbolism would be the best place to start since you could indentify objects with the statue and see to whom they are commonly attributed.

In any event, why a statue is who it represents is far more interesting than just that a statue represents who it represents. In this way not only do you increase the interest of your research, you enable others to recognize the same saint elsewhere. For example color is important. Martyrs always where red. This will people narrow down a statue that they see elsewhere. “Red. I read in my parish handbook that martyrs where red. At least we know that this is a martyr.” Joseph almost always where a yellowish gold, sometimes with some purple added. At different points in Jesus’ ministry (if the artist knows what he is doing) he might wear different colors. (White with a god sash is teaching, red is Passion . . .)

The clothing is important. Of course it will tell you right away if the person was clergy or religious or lay or royalty . . . Sometimes it will give you a country with which to identify them. It will also provide an opportunity to discuss some of the various clothing. Why do bishops carry a crosier – what does it mean – where does it come from – does it mean something different when it is facing out or in . . .”

Objects are very important. So is there location. Objects at the feet often mean something that has been overcome. Instruments of Christ’s Passion are often at the feet of the resurrected Christ. The dragon (devil) is at the feet of Saint Michael or Saint George. Things in the hand are objects for which the saint is well known. Martyrs might hold the instrument of their torture (giving you the opportunity to tell their story) or a church building (showing that they built a particular church or helped build up the Church in general . . .)

On rare occasions where the saint is looking is of importance. At our cathedral St. John holds a pen and book in his hands as his gaze turns toward a wall on which is painted the visions of the Book of Revelations which he wrote. But such innovation is rare since most statues are bought “off the rack.”

So far, between the windows and the statues you begin to see why Catholic Churches are called catechisms in stone for they are very full of information about the faith and the life of the Church.

IN DEFENCE OF DA FENCE

There was a time in the seminary (times, they have a-changed) when the altar was in the center of the nave on an oriental rug, which constituted the sanctuary, with chairs placed around it for whomever was attending. One day a seminarian was giving the homily. I don’t remember the exact context of the message but he asked the question if everything is made by God, is one place holier than any another? Standing on the Oriental rug he asked, “Am in a holier place now than,” and he stepped off of the rug, “now?”

The situation was much the same way in my first assignment. The daily chapel was a room behind the main church. The place where the altar, tabernacle, ambo, and celebrant’s chair sat would have been a hallway passage between the two doors that let into the chapel with pews fanning back from there. In fact, it was used as a hallway. It had to be. It was the only way to get to the pews or pass from one side of the church to the other without walking across the main sanctuary. In essence there was even less of a distinction between sanctuary and nave here than in the seminary.

So is – or should – the sanctuary area be any more holy than any other part of the church building? What does holy mean? Holy means set apart for the use of the kingdom. Is not the whole church holy – set apart for use to further the kingdom of God? Of course it is. A whole church is consecrated, not just the sanctuary area. The whole building needs to be treated with a certain amount of reverence. This is not just another building.

But further, the sanctuary is not just another space in the holy space. Here is where the most important thing on earth takes place. Here the Word of God is proclaimed; here Jesus is made present Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity. The altar is not just another table on which something grand takes place. Therefore the altar should never be used for anything unconnected to the liturgy. It is not a convenient place to set your scissors as you work on flowers, it is not place to set your papers or to lean against.

This does not make God happier or more holy. This practice is for our benefit. It reminds us not to become too complacent, too used to the miraculous and mystery in our midst. It says to us that something far too important happens here to be taken lightly. Set your scissors somewhere – anywhere else but here.

By extension also the sanctuary. This is not just another space. It is not even just another holy space within a holy space. There is something elevated here. We are to treat this space distinctly different than all other spaces. The general Instruction of the Roman Missal says that the sanctuary should be marked off from the body of the church by elevation or distinct design or architectural appointments. As one wanders around the church, it should be impossible to accidently find yourself here. In a terrible analogy it is like not walking on someone’s grave. Nobody is hurt by it. Not you, not the person who died, and not God. But not doing so reminds us of the dignity of the person buried there, of the reverence we should have for death, for the sensibilities of those who love the person, and remind us of our own mortality.

So we come to the altar rail which has had a fall from popularity that rivals that of Tiger Woods. Recently it was suggested by a parishioner that it be removed from the parish building. Besides making a terrible mar in the architecture would it harm anything to remove it? No. God wouldn’t be angry. Even the most orthodox liturgist would not think it a crime against the Church since the sanctuary would still meet the requirements for being distinctly set apart. But I think we would lose something.

One of the reasons people do not like altar rails is that it makes them feel distant from the altar. As if there is some barrier between them and the altar. Well – let’s be honest – there is. But if having an altar in a hallway is one extreme is having an altar rail the other?

One argument that I make over and over again is that symbols that were redefined in the 60s and 70s are being redefined once again. The things that were fought against represented by many symbols of the Church no longer exist and younger persons cannot connect them with what others see as oppressive signs of a bygone Church structure. Arguments to the contrary simply fail to move them and when we spend a lot of time arguing about them young people (here I mean approximately 45 and under) simply become disinterested, wonder what all the fuss is about, and, tragically, lose interest.

So we come to the altar rail. Quite frankly I think most people simply don’t register them. It is a bit of a non-issue. But looking back at being in church buildings with altar rails and not having grown up with what is now called the extraordinary form I find they have played a curiously opposite role in my life than that of which they are accused.

Far from making me think that I am somehow excluded or unworthy to approach the sanctuary, I find that they have always drawn me to the sanctuary. Stopping in a church on a visit I would always find myself kneeling at such a spot, not only getting one of the closest vantage points for looking at a beautiful sanctuary but also then (while I am kneeling) being drawn to prayer. As some people see them as off putting, they can also be an invitation.

Now, you certainly do not have to agree with my analysis. Except for the call for the sanctuary to be set apart from the rest of the church, everything contained herein is strictly my opinion (brilliant and humble, but just my opinion) and you will find scores of much more educated and professional persons who vehemently disagree. And that’s why it is a big Church. But be careful about completely ruling them out at least in such things as already exist as if it is a foregone conclusion that they should be wiped out from the face of the earth. In an age where sanctity is a dying concept it may be wise to not rail against such things.

MONDAY DIARY - NECESSARY EVILS

Somebody sent me an Email concerning their child’s idea of what a priest is. It absolutely made me day. In part it read, “So I ask, ‘what does it mean to be a priest?’ and she says, ‘they are in charge of the whole church, they protect all the people’. Which I think is a fantastic answer from my 5 year old and then she follows it up with ‘in case the whole building falls down on us or something.’”

Is that sweet or what?

Along those lines I was able to out and meet a new pastor in the diocese. He has been at it for about half a year and, as readers of Adam’s Ale know, I have been either administrator or pastor of Saint Sebastian for about two years now. He was just finishing up a wedding and I had a cancelled appointment so we agreed to meet at a half way point between our parishes to talk.

I remember when we used to get together and talk about how to save world. Burning with all of the theological and philosophical learning we had endured in the seminary we could not wait to bring Christ into people’s lives and aid them in becoming saints! We are loyal sons of the Church, confident that in bringing the Eucharist, the sacraments, and remaining obedient to the Church souls could easily be won for the Kingdom.

“Somebody crashed into the church building,” my friend told me. (This is not a photo of his parish building) “Do you have any idea how expensive that is going to be?” We talked about roofs and parking lots and operating deficits and how we are going to get by during this time when there is a moratorium on capitol campaigns in the diocese. Two hours we talked about such things. It is funny how both serious and utterly unimportant the conversation was. On the one hand, we have to talk about such things. We have to keep people safe by making sure that “the whole building doesn’t fall down on them or something.” On the other hand, in a thousand years our buildings might very well be dust, but where a soul ends up will be played out in eternity.

So we cut ourselves a break and allow the conversation to flow – salaries, tuition, parish policies, hiring and firing, the best kind of floors to have in a school, how to get people to turn off lights and close doors when the air conditioning is on and so forth and so on.

But a pastor cannot live on such a diet. So I have some meetings in which such topics are absolutely forbidden.

Such as last night.

It was the 4th or 5th meeting of the Saint Sebastian Chesterton Society. We usually have it out in the loggia but it was just too hot and muggy. So we held it in the rectory. It is a small by mighty group who devote themselves to reading and discussion of the “Good things men need to hear,” to quite Scripture. Granted, the title of the essay this week was “On Lying in Bed,” (picked out by our parochial vicar) but it was fruitful none-the-less. And I realize that we were able to enjoy this meeting in the cool of the rectory because the pastors that came before me had meetings like the one above to ensure that a rectory was built, air conditioned, re-roofed, painted, furnished . . .

FRIDAY POTPOURRI

There are different designations for church buildings. Most are familiar with the parish church or cathedral. Another distinction that may be bestowed upon one of these structures is the title basilica. There are major basilicas (St. Sebastian is Rome is one such church – oh yes, and St. Peter’s too) and minor basilicas which account for most churches with the title. Such a church is given the designation by the Holy Father himself and is a place of particular religious or historic importance. There are 56 basilicas in the Unites States.

If the front sign should blow off of the building there are a number of ways in which to tell that a church building is indeed a basilica. One way to tell is the ombrellino, which you may recall from last week as an umbrella like contraption that is also used at times for covering the Blessed Sacrament in procession. In this particular application it always appears in the colors of gold and red, the traditional colors of the papacy. At one time the obrellino would be held over the pope as he traveled about on horseback. Now it is an ornamental object placed to the right of the main altar whose symbolic purpose is to signify a building a basilica and is open when the pope is present and remains closed when he is not.

If you are wondering if you are in a major or minor basilica and nobody is watching and you do not see security cameras or a Swiss Guard with a halyard (er - I mean Halberd - thanks W. - so much for spell check,) go up and touch it. If it is of velvet, you are in a major basilica, if it is silk; minor.

MAY YOU LIVE IN INTERESTING TIMES

Fr. B and I are on the same schedule as far as being assigned. This past Tuesday he opined, “You know, we are beginning the “last” of everything at our parishes. This will be our last summer; we have one last Christmas, Easter, and one last Holy Week at our current assignments. This time next year things are going to be interesting.”

And not just interesting because we may be moving. We stand in a period of time in the Church when change is coming to a head. It is as if we are crossing from one boat to another. For fifty years we have been straddling two boats and are preparing to finely stand on the boat to which we have been crossing. Although the Church in some fashion or another is always in a state of change, there is something significant coming to maturity now that will make the next ten years or so very interesting.

Ah! And there is the ancient Chinese curse. "May you live in interesting times."

Most interesting is that those beginning to influence the Church now (clergy, lay, parents, religious, single) are the children of children who were largely un-catechized. (Painting with a broad paint brush) these are the generations that were brought up with "Jesus loves you" and banner making classes. But something interesting is happening. Like parents who grew up poor and lavish their children with things to make up for what they didn't have, those who are still embracing their faith are making sure that their kids are exposed to a much more substantial faith. It is as if they are saying, “Let’s get back to basics and do it right.” It will be interesting to see what we do in the next ten years if we do not lose nerve.

The worst of the Church scandal seems to be behind us. The Plain Dealer reports yesterday that there is a general feeling across the nation that the Church has gotten its act together and collections are on the increase. I for one hope that there is an outraged group out there that keeps us on the up and up. As we see little snippets about the atrocities that are occurring in other schools and organizations, and even other denominations that are not held as accountable as the Catholic Church it is possible that we will once again be that beacon of light and safety for future generations.

Also in that P.D. report was the sad news that most of our Catholic schools are running in the red and parish accounts are being drained trying to keep up with increasing cost of educating our children. This is a critical moment. Will Catholic schools be reinvented? Or will it be that this generation will reinterpret our mission in this field and come up with something better/different?

Then there is the future of religious. The “backbones of the diocese” are still active, at least here in Cleveland, but the gray hair factor is extremely high. It was discussed not to long ago in a circle of priests that in the next ten to fifteen years they will hit a wall, that is that there will simply be almost no active nuns (comparatively) of these groups to handle any significant portion of jobs in the diocese. Conversely there are other orders that appear to be taking on life and growing at alarming rates although not at a rate that will replace the old big orders completely. And it is sad that here in Cleveland so many of our young ladies who have an eye on religious life leave the state to find that for which they are looking. That future will be interesting on many levels.

Then there is the changing demography of Catholics. We are no longer a faith primarily found in the city. A large portion of us have made a definite move to the suburbs. That will mean the closing of many parishes. In the diocese of Cleveland that number is over 40. But it will also mean the expansion or building of more parishes out of city centers as well as a redistribution of priests. (This will also have an effect on how our influence effects the state in which we live.) This is just one more situation that is coming to a head.

The number of seminarians is on the rise. It is not at levels that would make us comfortable. Will lay people become more involved in the running of the parish? Will the upward swing in vocations continue? Ten years from now will be very telling.

The mindset of “Church” following Vatican II is also completing a final stage. Those just beginning to come into influence now have no longer been changed by VII, but have been formed by it. It is not something new to figure out but a part of the greater teaching of the Church of the ages, a part of history. Though in some cases it may be true, too often this generation is mislabeled as “throwbacks,” trying to bring back a Church of the past. I do not believe that to be the case. They may appear as throwbacks because they are able to embrace more of their heritage of which Vatican II is an essential part, but not an over-bright star in the sights of a telescope that blocks out other (valid) stars.

Oh, there’s more to consider but this is already long winded enough. The future is still blurry and interesting, but it is not bleak. There is great hope, great opportunity, great faith, there are outstanding men and women ready to charge ahead, and of course the promise of Christ in the form of the action of the Holy Spirit. Yes, these are interesting times. And I for one can’t wait to see how this picture will develop.

AND THE MEEK SHALL INHERIT THE LAST PEW IN THE CORNER BEHIND THE PILLAR

There is something inspiring about those conversion stories that appear in certain publications. I read them like candy. They are to me what romance novels are to other people.

The other day I was reading one and came across a line that went something like, “So I snuck into the church and attended mass kind of hiding off in a corner and when I saw the Eucharist I longed for it and new I had to become Catholic.”

So those were not the exact words but they were pretty darn close and it is a constant theme in these stories. I know if I were not Catholic I would be pretty darn intimidated by what went on behind those stained glass windows. It seems it would be a bit of a comfort to be able to go in and find a place to “be” without being obvious; a place from which I might observe.

Here is where I and many liturgists and architects part company. The thrust of my formation has pointed toward absolute involvement. Churches are large rooms with no dark spots, no pillars, nobody at a great distance. Seating is circular so that not only can you see the sanctuary but also everyone can all see each other. We are all asked to sit in the front row, to sing, recite, and move with joyful praise.

But what if you haven’t the slightest idea what it going on? (I know, I know, just inform your people to welcome outsiders. Good for as far as that goes.) Or what if you are unable to go to communion and are not particularly excited about people knowing it? What if you are incredibly sad and want to attend mass but just aren’t up to being thusly engaged? (I’ve been told that we as Catholics have an obligation to be joyful at mass. Great. But we have an obligation not to over eat or speed too and we don’t always get that one down either.) Sometimes you want to sneak into a church to pray quietly and not be seen. It just is that way.

Thus comes my plug for the incorporation of yet another aspect of older church architecture in newer buildings. Have places for people to be without being on stage. Pillars are evil for some people but salvation for others. Those pews in the side aisle, that space to stand against the wall, that shrine, these are the places where those who are timid or hurt or lost find a place to hang on by their fingernails until they can be comforted into the front pew.

Yes, I know this is not liturgically ideal and yes it can be abused (abusus non tollit usum), yes I know these are harder to maintain, yes I know you don’t want people able to find places to hide as you are locking up. But yes, I know what it is like to want to be there and be afraid to be TOO there.