I don’t mean to imply that this is some kind of competition, but Carl Olson’s premise in this post at Insight Scoop got me thinking. Here’s the quote:

One problem with this is that many Catholics do not have a Bible. One of the proposals at the synod was that bishops should try to get a Bible into the hands of every Catholic. Almost everyone has a rosary—why not also a Bible, which contains the Word of God which is a love letter addressed to each one?

Here are my thoughts:

- Is it really true there are more rosary-owning Catholics today than Bible-owning? Think about it. Consider regular churchgoers plus less regular plus C&E Catholics. Do you think Catholics in the First World are more likely to have a Bible than those in the Third? Does it vary from nation to nation?

What would be your assessment of Catholics on this, among people you know, in your parish, in your nation, in the church at large: more rosary owners than Bible owners? Which of course begs the next question: what about users?

It’s a great day to enjoy band music and stirring patriotic fare. Me, I think I’ll settle down with a listen to Alan Hovhaness’s second symphony, “Mysterious Mountain.”

You might think this is a strange choice, but Hovhaness struck me as a restless soul, searching for a beauty in nature, especially his beloved mountains. As for the US, one of our good points is the restless aspiration that is part of our ethic, part of what the many peoples have brought to our shores. It was here before the Europeans got here, of course.

The composer himself:

Mountains are symbols, like pyramids, of man’s attempt to know God. Mountains are symbolic meeting places between the mundane and spiritual worlds. To some, the Mysterious Mountain may be the phantom peak, unmeasured, thought to be higher than Everest, as seen from great distances by fliers in Tibet. To some, it may be the solitary mountain, the tower of strength over a countryside–Fujiyama, Ararat, Monadnock, Shasta or Grand Teton. . .

I’ve lost track of the versions of this I have in my library. The Seattle Symphony disc is as good as any; this conductor and orchestra have recorded a good deal of this composer, so familiarity would seen to be a bonus.

If you’re looking for some uniquely American music, this might also be a day for either jazz or bluegrass. If you’re asking my opinion, you couldn’t go wrong either way. Or both ways, if you can find it, as with the marvelous and inimitable Tony Rice:

As a campus minister, I’m pleased to see one of my tribe move to the next square in the four-step movement to official sainthood. The Boston Globe link mentions the deacon who “prayed” to Cardinal Newman. I hope that could have been worded better by the journalist. I’m sure the deacon healed of his back ailment (I can relate) was asking for intercession.

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RCIA is not going all seventies-freaky here. Here’s how the Church describes exorcisms, in four points:

90. The first or minor exorcisms have been composed in the form of petitions directly addressed to God. They draw the attention of the catechumens to …

- the real nature of Christian life,
- the struggle between flesh and spirit,
- the importance of self-denial for reaching the blessedness of God’s kingdom,
- and the unending need for God’s help.

Let’s jump ahead to one of the prayer texts:

God of power,
who promised us the Holy Spirit through Jesus your Son,
we pray to you for these catechumens,
who present themselves before you.

Protect them from the spirit of evil
and guard them against error and sin,
so that they may become the temple of your Holy Spirit.

Confirm what we profess in faith,
so that our words may not be empty,
but full of grace and power
by which your Son has freed the world.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

These minor exorcisms prefigure the ones celebrated on Sundays in Lent. They have the same purpose, though to draw out the need to pray for God’s grace, and to assist catechumens in the recognition and avoidance of sin. These minor exorcisms are addressed to either God the Father or to Christ. Eleven options are given in RCIA 94. We’ll look at specifics of their celebration in the next post.

My readers know I spent a few days away at Loras College in Dubuque for a liturgical music conference. The conference experience is so different from either the parish or the blogosphere. Those few days a few of us at the conference chatted up both the internet and parish experiences. Almost everybody I saw (and we had just about a hundred participants–fairly good for a first-year conference) is strongly rooted in the parish, and those who know of the blogging phenomenon in Catholic circles (Or is it the Catholic phenomenon in blogging cricles?) see it as a curious sideshow to the mainstream Church.

Our keynote speaker, and a parish pastor, and I got into a discussion on the notion of tribalism. In part, it was a lament. They are aware of the internet phenomenon of conservative Catholicism, but have little direct experience with it. I feel somewhat well-steeped in the internet community (having been a denizen for about eleven years now) and I seem to bridge the gap to mainstream parish life. I see some things that perhaps exclusively parish-based and strongly blog-based people don’t see.

A number of conservative/traditionalist Catholics have found affirmation and support in gathering their numbers together through the internet. There would be more satisfaction, to be sure, if they were also able to gather “in the flesh” as it were, with like-minded people. But maybe it’s a good thing they (and we liberals, too!) can’t do this. We may feel as if the silent majority is like a deadweight to us, they with their mainstream concerns, as opposed to those of us prepared to reform or re-reform the Church.

Those 400,000 anti-ND/Obama signatories are nothing to discount. I don’t think the petitioners missed many Catholics, though. About one-half of one percent of American Catholics seems about right to me. A community of that size is nothing to be trifled with, and has a degree of clout unforeseen a generation ago. (I can only imagine if the internet were around in 1968, or if Vatican II were finally called this decade.)

My conference friends, not being regular internet folks, are dismayed about the damage to the Church’s overall quality of unity. Do they have a valid concern?

This bit isn’t very focused, I realize. Can anyone add some of their own to it: is tribalism good for the Church, or not?

img_6803Let’s tackle in one gulp the entire suggested outline for a celebration of the Word:

85. For the celebrations of the word of God that are held specifically for the benefit of the catechumens (see RCIA 82), the following structure (RCIA 86-89) may be used as a model.

86. SONG: An appropriate song may be sung to open the celebration.

87. READINGS AND RESPONSORIAL PSALMS: One or more readings from Scripture, chosen for their relevance to the formation of the catechumens, are proclaimed by a baptized member of the community. A sung responsorial psalm should ordinarily follow each reading.

88. HOMILY: A brief  homily that explains and applies the readings should be given.

89. CONCLUDING RITES: The celebration of the word may conclude with a minor exorcism (RCIA 94) or with a blessing of the catechumens (RCIA 97). When the minor exorcism is used, it may be followed by one of the blessings (RCIA 97)  or, on occasion, by the rite of anointing (RCIA 102-103). *

The structure is quite simple, but a few things strike me as worthy of comment.

Music: Note the importance of the sung responsorial psalm (an ordinary expectation) above the option of an opening song. Singing a psalm stresses the principle of singing the liturgy as opposed to singing at the liturgy.

Readings: It’s a curious thing that in the other rites we’ve examined, readings are suggested, and even attached to certain themes. Not so for these celebrations of the Word. The clergy and RCIA team are clearly expected to know how to select Bible (not necessarily Lectionary) readings “relevant” to the formational experience of the newcomers.

Homily: Even in the absence of the clergy, a lay person may give a homily in these celebrations. Note the explicit focus: the homily is based on the reading(s), and one might presume, the psalm(s).

Concluding Rites: Over the next sixteen sections, we’ll examine the possibilities of minor exorcisms, blessings, and anointings.

The starred note indicates that #89 may also be utilized for liturgies of the word that take place along with instructional sessions or the breaking open of the word after Sunday Mass may also employ these minor rites.

Does your parish catechumenate offer these celebrations of the Word? Are parishioners invited to participate? Were these included in your experience of the catechumenate?

 

My friend John is a lay volunteer in Honduras. In e-mails to us (he was on staff here at St Thomas for more than twenty years) he asks for our prayers. You can read his blog here, and offer support by comment and your prayers, if you wish. Daily posts on the situation from his vantage point far from the Honduran capital. Check out the many photos of ministry activity in and around Santa Rosa de Copán.

As promised, I’ll begin a series of posts on some liturgical principles outlined in the US Bishop’s document, Sing to the Lord (SttL). Most of these principles aren’t original to the current crop of bishops and this particular liturgy legislation. Indeed, some of them predate Vatican II. Let’s tackle one of the big ones first, progressive solemnity. The bishops let the principle lead off section IV, Preparing Music for Catholic Worship, part A, ”What Parts Do We Sing?”

Progressive solemnity applies, of course, not only to music, but to other aspects of liturgy and to certainchoices made in the context of worship. Simply put, the principle suggests that since it is humanly impossible to celebrate the worship of God “all-out” every time believers are gathered, that special enhancements are saved for special occasions. These occasions are not determined by the whim of the clergy or musicians, but by the liturgical context.

SttL devotes three sections (112-114) to the principle. I think the basic material covered here is adequate, but the bishops have left a few gaps in the text I’d like to point out in my commentary:

112. Musical selections and the use of additional instruments reflect the season of the liturgical year or feast that is being celebrated.

113. Solemnities and feasts invite more solemnity. Certain musical selections are more capable of expressing this solemnity, adding an extraordinary richness to these special celebrations. Such solemnity should never be allowed to devolve to an empty display of ceremony, however. (“It should be borne in mind that the true solemnity of liturgical worship depends less on a more ornate form of singing and a more magnificent ceremonial than on its worthy and religious celebration, which takes into account the integrity of the liturgical celebration itself, and the performance of each of its parts according to their own particular nature” (MS, no. 11).) The most solemn musical expressions retain their primary responsibility of engaging human hearts in the mystery of Christ that is being celebrated on a particular occasion by the Church.

Perhaps the bishops are assuming an ordinary Sunday baseline for this statement. It is a common practice to add instrumentation appropriate to Christmas and Easter in many parishes–that goes back decades in American practice, if not centuries. Let’s keep in mind that certain feasts (Holy Thursday, Pentecost and Epiphany come to mind) also stand out well above the usual Sunday fare. If your average Sunday Mass is on a setting of about six, and Christmas and Easter rate a nine, some feasts will be more “eightish” than just six-plus.

Liturgical seasons, too, will rate more attention. The Easter and Christmas seasons, certainly, but I would also advocate for a certain attention to be paid to Advent and Lent, too. In the latter case, not so much for the notion of adding instrumentation, but for choosing selections carefully, and ensuring the music has no less care that the festive seasons. How so?

- Practice Advent and Lent music with the same diligence that Christmas and Easter Sunday merit.

- Program only the very best selections for congregational singing and choir presentation. The sieve for Advent and Lent should be as tight as anytime in the liturgical year.

I’m aware that during these seasons, SttL 114 calls for a “certain musical restraint. In Advent, for example, musical instruments should be used with moderation and should not anticipate the full joy of the Nativity of the Lord. In Lent, musical instruments should be used only to support the singing of the gathered assembly.” I read SttL 113 as giving the vital principle, the “… responsibility of engaging human hearts in the mystery of Christ that is being celebrated on a particular occasion by the Church.”

In other words, Lent is not a time for slacking off a bit so we can devote more rehearsal to Easter.

I think that’s enough for today. In the next few posts, I’ll look at SttL 115-117 in which progressive solemnity is applied within a celebration of liturgy–which parts are more important and less important to sing. I also want to touch on the application of progressive solemnity within the Catholic sacramental system. We know the Eucharist is important, but how do and how should the other six sacraments shake out in applying what liturgies get our liturgical music attention and which don’t.

img_6803The rite’s emphasis on celebrations of the word seems to presume a gradual introduction to the Sunday Eucharist. In the US, most inquirers have some experience of the Mass before setting foot inside the door for their first precatechumenate meeting. Keep in mind that for many places in the world, Sunday Mass may not be the weekly experience we enjoy here in much of North America and Europe. Given all that, let’s look at RCIA 83:

83. From the very beginning of the peiod of the catechumenate the catechumens should be taught to keep holy the Lord’s Day.

1. Care should be taken that some of the special celebrations of the word just mentioned (RCIA 82) are held on Sunday, so that the catechumens will become accustomed to taking an active and practiced part in these celebrations.

2. Gradually the catechumens should be admitted to the first part of the celebration of the Sunday Mass. After the liturgy if the word they should, if possible, be dismissed, but an intention for them is included in the general intercessions (see RCIA 67 for formularies of dismissal).

Of course, not all newcomers come to Mass first, and then are inserted into the life of the catechumenate. In non-Christian cultures, I can see the importance of easing non-believers into liturgy. It wouldn’t be helpful for the Mass to be seen as more of a spectacle. From the beginning, as the rite instructs us, the importance of Sunday and Mass should be stressed.

In the next section, we are advised to consider framing teaching sessions in the context of prayer.

84. Celebrations of the word may also be held in connection with catechetical or instructional meetings of the catechumens, so that these will occur in a context of prayer. 

(This is Neil) I’ve been wanting to post about the Jesuit liturgist John Baldovin’s recently published Reforming the Liturgy: A Response to the Critics. This relatively brief book is neither a polemic nor an exhaustive historical defense of the postconciliar liturgical reform. It is actually offered in the spirit of dialogue. Fr Baldovin writes “I would not have written this book if I had thought the critics had nothing to offer” and “I have also tried to reflect appreciatively on those areas where the critics need to be heeded.” (Two of the critics mentioned in the book, Frs Thomas Kocik and Alcuin Reid, have recognized that “Baldovin does not seek a fight” – see here and here.)

I don’t think that I can summarize the book in a blog post and I have already discussed Fr Baldovin’s comments on the then-Cardinal Ratzinger’s writings on the liturgy here. Instead, I’ll list five important (IMHO) points from Baldovin’s book:

1. There are different (and mutually exclusive) criticisms of liturgical reform. After all, criticism of liturgical reform now has a long forty-year history, perhaps beginning with Tito Casino’s La Tunica Stracciata: Lettera di un Cattolico sulla “Riforma Liturgica,” which was published in 1967 with a preface written by a curial cardinal, no less.

Fr Baldovin follows Msgr M. Francis Mannion in identifying five “types,” or approaches to liturgical reform – advancing the official reform (e.g., the International Commission on English in the Liturgy [ICEL] before 2002), restoring the preconciliar (e.g., the Society of St Pius X [SSPX]), reforming the reform (e.g., Adoremus), inculturating the reform (e.g., the North American Academy of Liturgy), and recatholicizing the reform (e.g., Mannion and others who want to transcend the current debate, but are worried about liturgical inculturation in a climate of individualism, anti-ritualism, and politicization).

Obviously, some critics would criticize Sacrosanctum Concilium (Vatican II’s Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy) [SC], others would criticize its implementation by the Consilium in the late 1960s, and others merely criticize the reforms as implemented in most parishes. But, it should be noted, some of the criticisms are also theologically irreconcilable with one another. For instance, the SSPX has criticized the claim that the liturgy represents the whole “Paschal Mystery,” because they believe that it solely re-enacts Christ’s sacrificial death. Cardinal Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict XVI) disagrees. (See also Pope John Paul II’s Vicesimus Quintus Annus, 6).

2. There is a danger of romanticizing the “medieval mass.” In response to the Anglican philosopher Catherine Pickstock, Fr Baldovin notes that the medieval mass went through “an immense number of permutation and variations;” always needs to be contexualized by, for example, examining church architecture; and cannot be isolated from its role as “part of an enormously complex system of services, including the Divine Office, processions, and other sacramental rites.” Furthermore, it is too easy to allegorize the medieval mass for the purpose of critique, to suppose that it was understood by the entire congregation, and to ignore the pre-existing (and continuing) decline in the reception of the Eucharist. One must deal with the medieval mass as it actually was.

For instance, Pickstock interprets the Prayers at the Foot of the Altar as showing the eschatological nature of the medieval liturgy (“a necessarily deferred anticipation of the heavenly worship towards which we strive”). But, then, what does it mean that the Sarum Rite did not begin with the Prayers at the Foot of the Altar?

3. There is a danger of imagining that the Roman liturgy has had an unbroken history. Fr Baldovin also responds to the work of Msgr Klaus Gamber. Gamber has suggested that twentieth century liturgical reform, including the reform of the rites of Holy Week in the 1950s, has been “manufactured.” But Gamber also has a longer story of “the debacle of modern liturgy” that mirrors the ruptured and tragic history of the West. It begins with the failed Frankish assimilation of the rite of the city of Rome; continues with the medieval alienation from the East’s “cosmic and dramatic dimensions of worship,” the introduction of individualist piety in the Gothic period, and the unfortunate success of vernacular music; and culminates in the paralysis of the Roman Rite with the Missal of Pius V, which prevented organic development, and the rationalism of the Enlightenment reaction to Baroque theatricality.

There are two points to be made here. First, as Baldovin says, Gamber really might consider “the entire development of Western culture a disaster.” Second, we can see Msgr Gamber’s basic principle, that liturgical development has to be “organic” in nature, respecting the “timeless character” of the rite.” Gamber has written, “Every liturgical rite constitutes an organically developed homogeneous unit. To change any of its essential elements is synonymous with the destruction of the rite in its entirety.” (Thus, Msgr Gamber does not criticize all aspects of liturgical reform – he thinks that it is a good idea to use the vernacular for the Liturgy of the Word and to incorporate readings from the Old Testatment.)

But, here, Fr Baldovin notes that all Christian rites have borrowed from other liturgical forms. There simply is no “pristine rite.” There is no reason to see ecumenical conciliation (e.g., the addition of the doxology to the embolism after the Our Father) as contamination. There is likewise no immediate reason to exclude scriptural exegesis (e.g., the claim that multis is a mistranslation of pollon) or the historical recovery of the basic structure of a liturgy as alien or foreign. Furthermore, it is not clear that the Pope can never make radical changes to the liturgy, even if radical change is usually pastorally inadvisable.

One related problem has to do with the word “organic.” As SC 23 says, “Care must be taken that any new forms adopted should in some way grow organically from forms already existing.” But this clearly is a metaphor. Can one use such a metaphor to support every development of the mass, including silent recitation of the Canon, infrequency of reception of the Eucharist, and the use of Latin? Fr Baldovin even suggests that the biological metaphor can be pushed in new directions, “[I]s it not possible or necessary that broken limbs must be reset to become useful again to the whole organism?”

Finally, the claim that the Roman Rite had been “pristine” ignores how the rite has often been celebrated. One of the major consultants in liturgical reform was Dom Bernard Botte, who described hearing daily Mass at the beginning of the 20th century as a “murmur.” One of his sisters was told by a dean of theology that the best time to receive communion was “before mass” so she then could “offer mass in thanksgiving for communion” (!). (This point is especially true in discussions of liturgical music.)

4. There is a danger of identifying Tridentine and post-Tridentine liturgy with the spirit of early liturgy. Responding, mostly positively, to Denis Crouan, Baldovin notes that the Tridentine liturgical reform took as its model the Low mass, not the corporate sung mass. He agrees with Crouan, who says, “the Tridentine reform would progressively develop a practice of making the Eucharistic celebration an act of private devotion of the priest, whereas the faithful were simply invited to attend the Mass and to unite their prayers with it as sincerely as possible.”

Baldovin also agrees with Crouan that the Baroque period had negative consequences for liturgical development, as its theatricality “would further distance the liturgy from being a true exercise of the Body of Christ,” and its grand tabernacles, as Crouan says, “transformed sanctuaries into religious dioramas.” Furthermore the invention of printing “which made regularization of the liturgy possible (for the first time really) also turned the book itself with its rules and rubrics into a kind of object of worship,” or, as Crouan says, “the missal becomes the guarantee for tradition.” The Baroque appeal to sentiment was only made worse by the Pietism of the 18th century and the Romanticism of the 1900s.

5. The critics of liturgical reform make valid and useful points. Of course Baldovin does not agree with the critics on everything. This is true about translation and the meaning of active participation, which, he says, really is meant to be “active,” originally rendered as the Italian “participazione attiva” in Pope Pius X’s Tra le Sollecitudini.  Nevertheless, Baldovin does identify common ground on five points:

A. Baldovin agrees with the sociologist Kieran Flanagan that “liturgies operate best when they manage to make their social apparatus invisible and unsignified.” He quotes from CS Lewis’ Letters to Malcolm:

Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best – if you like, it “works” best – when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. A good shoe is a shoe you don’t notice. Good reading becomes possible when you need not consciously think about eyes, or light, or print, or spelling. The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God. But every novelty prevents this. It fixes our attention on the service itself; and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshipping. … A still worse thing may happen. Novelty may fix our attention not even on the service but on the celebrant.

B. Baldovin agrees with David Torevell and James Hitchcock that the reformed liturgy did inspire a certain “poverty of gesture.”He says, “[T]here is need for a new ‘choreography’ of the liturgy in the sense of conscious and intentional use of the body” after the “infatuation with ideas and concepts in the late 1960s and the 1970s.” (We discussed this briefly on the blog, with regard to Peter Jeffrey’s work, here and here.)  To be sure, this isn’t merely a “traditionalist” or “conservative” sentiment. Baldovin is able to quotes the late liturgist Fr Robert Hovda, “Anyone who contrary to the most elementary human experience, persists in the stubborn conviction that ideas, points, arguments are the stuff that move human beings, is natively unfit for liturgical leadership, if not for liturgical life.”

C. While Fr Baldovin argues that the General Instruction of the Roman Missal does envision celebration facing the people (versus populum) – this is a disputed question of translation of a quod clause, he concedes that in the early church the “idea of facing the people in praying was not nearly as important as the question of orientation: i.e., facing the geographical east.” Baldovin notes that the priest can “hijack” the liturgy if he is always in the gaze of others. He also writes that celebration with the priest facing the liturgical east has never been forbidden. That said, Baldovin is somewhat skeptical of celebrating ad orientem, because he wonders if the symbolism of the rising sun makes sense in a world “flooded with artificial light.” (This, to me, was the most unpersuasive paragraph in the book – I haven’t noticed a lack of “sun” references in popular music or a lack of light imagery in contemporary film.)

In any case, Baldovin is not dogmatic about celebrating versus populum, ad orientem, or (as in Ratzinger and Cardinal Christoph Schönborn’s writings) obviam Sponso, facing a cross on the altar. He concludes, “Whatever the stance of the priest, both priest and people need to be oriented toward God in prayer.”

D. Fr Baldovin agrees with Dom Aidan Nichols, OP, and the then-Cardinal Ratzinger when they argue that the “didactic element overwhelms the latreutic” (that is, the liturgy becomes about instruction rather than worship) in much contemporary liturgy, or, worse, that the liturgy becomes spectacle. He argues that we must receive the liturgy as gift. Baldovin notes, “Realizing that we cannot do catechesis during the liturgy itself may well force us to work harder to find appropriate ways to catechize the community. It has been my frequent observation that the liturgy is unable to sustain the catechetical and community-building weight that has been put on it.”

E. Baldovin agrees that there are aesthetic problems and “performance” problems that mar contemporary Catholic liturgy. First (as hinted above), priests should not begin the Mass by saying, “Good morning, I’m Father ? and I want to welcome you here today.” The second and third problems can be summarized by two quotes from the late Adrian Kavanaugh: “Churches are not carpeted,” and “Most of the music currently done in the liturgy is stunningly immodest and stunningly bad” (1976; Baldovin says that things have gotten better).

What do you think?

Jennifer at Twisted Physics offers a very fun Carnival of Space #109. She refers to my pretty pictures from last week as Space Porn. Just don’t tell MM at VoxNova; it might skew his graphs.

I urge you to check out this video from the Japanese lunar orbiter Kaguya/Selene. HDTV from space. Far more exciting and fulfilling than silly porn. Doesn’t it make you want to go to the moon?

img_6803Why celebrations of the Word? Here’s what the rite has to say in section 82:

82. The special celebrations of the word of God arranged for the benefit of the catechumens have as their main purpose:

1. to implant in their hearts the teachings they are receiving: for example, the morality characteristic of the New Testament, the forgiving of injuries and insults, a sense of sin and repentance, the duties Christians must carry out in the world;

2. to give them instruction and experience in the different aspects and ways of prayer; 

3. to explain to them the signs, celebrations, and seasons of the liturgy;

4. to prepare them gradually to enter the worship assembly of the entire community.

Commentary:

I like the emphasis on morality as a process of the heart, not of the mind. I suppose the “instruction” of the second purpose is more aligned with apprenticeship than didactic lecture. Although homilies of these word services could be more explicit about aspects of the liturgy. These word services should also include more than just the Scriptures and homily–signs of the liturgy would include regular aspects such as candles and incense and some sacramentals, as well as feast-specific experiences.

Any thoughts on your part?

I’m mildly surprised at how much traction Michael Jackson’s death is getting in the Catholic blogosphere. Via David Gibson, there’s this piece up at First Things today. I think there’s something less of the comparison between Lady (of the Tramp)/St Guinefort, and more to the profit-driven engine of the contemporary media. Conservative Catholics don’t get off scot-free in this.

If I may make a more apt comparison, I think Pope Pius XII is a better fit for the Jackson glove. The WWII pope has his own legions of followers and detractors, each trying to out-shout the other to make their point.

Commenting on Michael Jackson as some sort of saint requires us to examine how we really deal with celebrities. Let’s be honest and say that the modern culture might even be more obsessed with discrediting celebrities and outing them as objects of derision. Did this start in earnest with President Nixon? With his enemies lists, and with the delicious nightly unveiling of the congressional Watergate hearings? My dad watched them like a soap opera. Each subsequent political mini-generation seemed to up the temperature, and conservatives were surely no dissenters from escalation.

Even more, Americans seem to rejoice in the rehabilitation of politicians from Nixon to Bill Clinton. Consider also such jailed notables as Martha Stewart. Is Mike Vick not far behind? It seems there’s a curious cult wanting to elevate saints, watch them trip and fall, then cheer again as they are restored to a (hopefully) chagrined greatness. As the Culture War accelerates in the face of Republican political humiliation, we see it on both sides of the ideological divide: a rallying around the heroes, Obama and Palin, and no spared effort to embarrass or humiliate them, or, failing that, their loyal followers.

It seems to me the current culture is more about anti-saints, and Jackson is no different. Stardom in his young life was followed by weirdness and scandal, and now in death, by adulation again. Yet there are those who want to continue the cycle of hero/failure even now. Maybe the Romans were on to something in bringing these messes to a dignified conclusion: de mortuis nil nisi bonum

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Let’s give a bit of perspective on these posts. Last week we finished the section 75-80, which describes how to conduct a catechumenate. That followed the Rite of Acceptance liturgy (48-74) in which unbaptized newcomers to the faith enter the Church as catechumens.

Ahead (this week) in sections 81-89, we’ll have all text, no rubrics or rituals, to tell us how to conduct the most important liturgies of the catechumenate period, celebrations of the Word of G0d.

81. During the period of the catechumenate there should be celebrations of the word of God that accord with the liturgical season and that contribute to the instruction of the catechumens and the needs of the community. These celebrations of the word are: first, celebrations held specifically for the catechumens; second, participation in the liturgy of the word at the Sunday Mass; third, celebrations held in connection with catechetical instruction.

This is interesting. The rite presumes that liturgies of the word will be held in connection with catechetical sessions. For most American parishes, that would be a weeknight. What nearly every parish does provide is an invitation and expectation that catechumens will attend Sunday Mass. The usual practice there is to break open the word after dismissal, while the baptized community celebrates the Eucharist.

The rite seems to imply that on some occasions, the faith community celebrates liturgies of the word for the benefit of both the community and the newcomers, and without (necessarily) an explicit attachment to the catechetical session or to the pattern of Sunday worship. These celebrations seem to be given top priority above other forms. I know of no parishes doing this–not even my own. What would such celebrations look like? RCIA 85-89 give a model, and these will be discussed in an upcoming post. The purpose of these liturgies will be covered in sections 82-83. Offer your own speculation, but I’ll end with one of my own, because “liturgical season” jumps out at me.

I wonder if the intent here is, in large part, to introduce the catechumens to the rhythms of the liturgical year. I would surmise that such gatherings of catechumens and community introduce the primary seasons, such as Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Eastertime. Gatherings also could coincide with major feasts such as Epiphany, Pentecost, and the holy days of obligation. A third consideration would be the prime solemnities of the liturgical year: All Souls, Annunciation, Sts. Peter and Paul. A fourth possibility would be the major divisions of the Gospel narrative in ordinary time. An example of the latter would be a session anticipating or breaking open the Bread of Life discourse from John 6 that we’ll be reading in August.

Additional thoughts on this?

My friend Jack Smith takes a valiant turn at defending his bishop, Robert Finn of Kansas City-St Joseph, from the question posed by (among others) America:

What moral responsibility do activists and church leaders bear to prevent moral and political criticism on both sides of the abortion divide from escalating into hate speech?

Jack concedes his own blog headline, “We Are At War,” didn’t quite match the bishop’s keynote title, “Warriors for the Victory of Life.” I mention on Jack’s Catholic Key blog that I find the terminology of warfare problematic. As a pacifist, I certainly object to it on principle. But additionally, it adopts the political ploy of playing to the “base.” It’s not much different from warm-feely messages delivered to the self-satisfied. And to be sure, there are times when people are dispirited and crestfallen and need a pep rally to bolster their own energies for the task ahead. A more effective message to the pro-life “base” would be, in my opinion, a serious self-examination from top to bottom. Do individual pro-lifers present the best example, as the Church insists believers always should? When we have erred, are we not challenged to examine consciences, confess wrong, and amend behavior? And when we are confronted with political failure, as the pro-life movement itself judges the elections of 2006 and 2008, isn’t it time to reexamine strategies and tactics? The GOP mainstream seems to be repeating the same old messages, only louder and longer, and their political foes seem pleased to give them ample rope to hang themselves. The president is clearly an able politician (even if he is inexperienced) and maintains a posture above the fray. Too bad pro-life leaders, especially bishops, haven’t managed the same.

Jack goes a little overboard with this:

This week’s Current Comment editorial in America disgraces the paper and the Society. It is vicious calumny in service to wicked ends.

No, I think the question raised in the editorial is apt: do bishops have responsibilities, given the current climate of fracture in the Church, and the reality of political disenfranchisement by conservatives who have been in ascendancy for the past twenty-eight years? I would be very interested to read Bishop Finn’s response to the question. Even if one is trying to rally disheartened followers, and knowing that dozens of blogs and web sites will link and selectively quote your talk, does he have additional responsibility not to incite anger, disunity, and aggression?

I stated on the “We Are At War” post that the whole of the bishop’s talk  must be read. It does have its own context. Yet my friend Jack doesn’t seem willing to grant a similar context to admittedly strong words from “America, NCR, and Commonweal,” not to mention other Catholics who are honestly questioning the whole situation in the Church and society at large. He runs off the rails a bit by lassoing criticism of a bishop into an enemy-of-my-enemy meme via President Obama. The conclusion of his post:

So why would the editors at America, NCR, and Commonweal, who all got on this anti-bishop bandwagon, attempt to associate Bishop Finn and by extension other outspoken bishops and the pro-life movement as a whole with murder and truly incendiary speech and threats? Why would they seek to make those who have consistently at personal cost defended human life, the enemies of life?

Is it because the ultimate strategy for them to “Sing a New Church Into Being,” is to alienate the Faithful from their Shepherds? Is it because the defenders of life have criticized their master? They will muster any excuse for him, praise him immodestly for actions he has not taken, and destroy the reputations of any who dissent from him.

That is not the way a Christian works for the Risen Lord. But their master is not Risen. He resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. And serving a man this way is idolatry.

The problem and challenge with the blogging medium is the instantaneous nature mixed with the lack of editors (colleagues) and the inevitable errors we bring to our writing means our web sites will usually run the gamut of quite good to truly bad. I think this is one of my friend’s worst posts on an otherwise laudable blogging effort. And I can appreciate his loyalty to Bishop Finn, not only as his boss, but as his diocesan pastor.

Bishops are criticized all the time. If indeed we’re talking bandwagons, we’re not talking about one or a few. This wagon trail would extend to Rome and back–and it probably always has.

I think the critical Catholic media are asking apt questions of the bishops. Many of us see inconsistencies, and those of us not close to the political arm of the pro-life movement may have the perspective lacking from within. It is the duty of a pastor to serve unity, and if unity is served by sitting people of different opinions together and soliciting their input and reconciliation, so be it. The task of promoting life in the political sphere is that of the lay person, not the bishop. When bishops get mixed up about their job description, they should be called to an accounting of it.

In trying to cast this criticism as an arm of the pro-president effort is to misread what the Republicans and moral conservatives have been doing for three decades and trying to read it into one’s political adversaries. So sure, there are Democrats who are active Catholic editors and writers and leaders. But not quite so many as there are Republicans identified with the pro-life/anti-abortion effort.

My open suggestion to Jack would be to have Bishop Finn address these concerns: How does a bishop concern himself with unity at a time when Catholics find themselves fracturing over politics? If one can recognize that the cultural setting is particularly partisan, and that even the threat of violence from within hangs over society, is the imagery of “war” and “warriors” appropriate? Do bishops today realize their followers will pull whatever they like from net-published talks and documents and use them for their own ends? Does any of this affect what a bishop says and how he might say it?

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