Catholic Sensibility

Cheer Pray for your bishop or count down the time till the door hits his butt on the way out of the cathedral. Another study in contrast brought to you courtesy of the internet age. Curious that one site utilizes a modern innovation, that ubiquitous computerized time ticker, and another a traditional means of support. Care to guess where the trads come down on it?

The pope’s comments on annulments were getting some attention here and there this weekend. It’s hard to comment on incomplete statements, so I’ll just touch on the underlying assumption here that people seeking annulments are already in second marriages. They’re not–not all the time. I’ve known many people who were not in sacramental marriages, and long before any second spouse entered the picture, approached the Church for a declaration of nullity.

Second marriages aren’t always the sacramental target of annulments. Lots of non-Catholics request them so they can be received into the Church. You’d think the hierarchy would be more interested in evangelization and lassoing in new believers than propping up tribunals with more busywork. More “misdiagnosis: sacraments” from Rome.

Americans also get a bad rap for piling up about a third of all church annulments. It’s not really that American Catholics have a disregard for sacramental marriage. It’s probably American legalism bred into us. Catholics in other parts of the world don’t bother nearly as much with the annulment process. Europeans, I suppose, don’t even find a second opportunity to explore sacramental life in the Church.

The Orthodox have a sensible, sacramental approach to divorce and remarriage. While I know adopting their approach to marital sacramentality isn’t likely to get adopted in Rome any time soon, I suppose canon lawyers can breathe easy their workload isn’t getting lighter anytime soon.

(This is Neil) This coming Tuesday is the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, or Candlemas. The readings can be found here (or, alternately, here). The learned Anglican Bishop of Gibraltar, Geoffrey Rowell, in his Credo column for the Times this week, offers some reflections.

Here, then, is an excerpt:

Simeon sees in the child the Lord coming to his Temple. The prophet Malachi had said that the Lord would come to His Temple like a refiner’s fire, to cleanse and purge, and purify. How can this be, in this small child? Christian devotion has wondered with amazement at the child carried in the old man’s arms, yet that same child was the old man’s king, God and Lord. The Lord has indeed come to his Temple, but the refining fire is the love that stoops down to the lowest part of our need. As Simeon cries out, this is “the light to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of his people, Israel”. He goes on to tell Mary that her child will fulfil the destiny of love, the destiny of sacrifice, and she too will be caught into that refining fire — “a sword will pierce your own heart also”. Those close to this salvation, this redemption, are drawn into the self-offering that is at the heart of this transformation.

The Feast of Candlemas has many names. It is the Purification of the Virgin Mary. It is the Presentation of Christ in the Temple. In Eastern churches it is simply “The meeting”, or, if you like, the encounter — the encounter of human longing for deliverance, for salvation, for the healing of the broken lives that feed into a broken society, with the love of God that goes to the uttermost for each and every one of us.

Our society needs salvation, transformation. Each one of us needs our own salvation, healing, deliverance, wholeness. And that salvation comes so often through moments of meeting. What we call meetings, as we know so well, are often not meetings in any deep sense at all; but when we truly meet one another, when we are vulnerable to one another, when we disclose to husband or wife, to close friend, or counsellor or priest, something of our pain and our longing and our hope, then we can find that out of meeting comes salvation. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness is not able to snuff it out.

Candlemas has been called a hinge feast. In the last light of Christmas we turn to share anew in the continuing journey of the divine love. That journey brings us to a cross, a gallows, and to arms embracing us in love, pinned by rough and rusty nails to sharp, splintering wood. Love is always costly, and the love of God that comes down to the lowest part of our need is no exception. …

Count me singularly unimpressed on hearing the report that Pope John Paul II practiced self-mortification.

There’s quite a long discussion at dotCommonweal about it. From CNS:

Msgr. Slawomir Oder, postulator of the late pope’s (sainthood) cause, said Pope John Paul used self-mortification “both to affirm the primacy of God and as an instrument for perfecting himself.”

Self-mortification is probably the easiest form of humility. Why? No matter how … vigorous it is, it is done in private. Real humility is experienced with other human beings. Let me offer a small example from the annals of parenthood.

The young miss, for some reason, has decided she wants to set up her own aquarium. She’s begun researching fish and has a plan in place. The plan includes using the old tank that, until about 8AM this morning, resided in the backyard shed. Hints have been dropped, so after I dropped her off at school and got back in the driveway, I thought maybe I should brave the virgin show (and ice) in the yard and add my tracks to those of crows, rabbits, and the neighbor’s dog. There were the matters of breaking through the crust to have snow pour in my sneakers, finding the doors frozen shut, going back to get the sharp shovel to crack at the ice.

Then I noticed the two holes in the snow, one almost covered by me, leading to the rabbit burrows. Uncover the hole, I thought, and let’s be careful about the wildlife. I can only imagine if one of the neighbors saw me running through my backyard with a shovel and an empty aquarium in my hands. My wife was still in slumber, thus missing my wet socks and cold toes.

Here’s another little bit of humility: I tested the tank in the bathtub to check for leaks, but then the emptied water didn’t drain right away. So much for my morning shower.

I don’t relate this tale to paint a picture of a perfect dad. I’ll confess I thought of just telling Brit that the shed was frozen shut and why don’t we wait till Spring?

My point is that if the pope or any other saint wants to find a more fruitful mortification than a little private whipping, get married or join a religious community and take the thing 100% seriously 100% of the time. Or as close as you can get to it. Unmarried and unvowed? Take several hours a week to visit the sick or the elderly.

These interpersonal mortifications are far more fruitful than a little self-inflicted discomfort. Life throws enough discomfort at us. What good does it do to embrace it in one theater and avoid it in the other? One commentator thought that the best act of self-mortification John Paul II could have done would be to resign when he knew he was no longer physically able to carry out his ministry. I can’t say that would be entirely true. I really don’t know. But if it were a tickle from God, I would have paid attention.

One of the better confessors I’ve known, after hearing my confession about some transgressions against my family, gave me an act of satisfaction that I’ve tried to maintain to this day. He said that in the next few days, I would feel a nudge from God. My penance was to act on that nudge immediately, without resentment, justification, or delay. In the next twenty-four hours, I felt four nudges. Small things, really. But significant enough to deter my agenda of the moment and give me the opportunity to serve my wife, my daughter, or my pets.

I don’t know if John Paul II is a saint. I’m glad I’m not on that committee. I don’t know if self-mortification helped him. If he is a saint, I suspect it was in spite of the extreme asceticism and not because of it.

A few words on bad experiences with church musicians. Like many people I succumb to the temptation to gossip. I was not good at avoiding it when I was young. Things on this blog and in others’ comboxes probably slip out that shouldn’t.

Those of you who follow me or are bothered by me probably know a meme I frequently return to is that orthodoxy is no guarantor or virtue. In other words, I don’t think that using chant and Latin, being against abortion on demand, or anything else that can be pigeon-holed as “conservative” means the person in question has some moral elevation over those who aren’t “conservative.” The same is true for social justice advocates, whether their stance comes from a sense of white guilt or from a more mature and considered desire to be on God’s side to set things right in the world.

On another site, a comparison was offered between NPM and CMAA. That contrast has been brewing this week here and there on the net. I wasn’t terribly impressed with this reported sentiment on PrayTell:

Heard at the CMAA church music colloqium: “How not to alienate Catholics in the pews, many of whom have never heard sacred music in church.”

It’s a variation on a theme. Not a wise one from the perspective of the spiritual life. Just when you think you have it all figured out, God will sneak up and surprise you badly. It happened in the Bible. It happened to the saints. It still happens today.

While comparing different “orchards,” Charles asked if I was painting a negative picture of CMAA, while suggesting that NPM is absolutely committed to better liturgy through better music and well-formed church musicians. And if they’re so different, I suppose, CMAA must not be committed to the good stuff.

Maybe it’s part of a paradox with which human beings must wrestle, but clearly both organizations and nearly all of their members are decent to excellent musicians committed to good liturgy. Why then, do their viewpoints conflict so much? One might conclude the liturgy wars aren’t really about good liturgy at all. But that would be dangerous. So it’s easier to malign the other camp as either ignorant of sacred music or Vatican II.

I recall my very enjoyable experience bantering with Jeffrey Tucker on Catholic Radio 2.0. It’s too bad we can’t bypass more of the mess in St Blogs with more efforts like that. But, of course, that would be dangerous. It would actually be evidence that the Catholic Church possesses that certain credal quality. Being One.

I’m more and more convinced that bad experiences with other believers are just that: singular bad experiences caused by one or both sides being stubborn, prideful, willfully ignorant, angry, or whatever. And they have little or nothing to do with the essence of liturgy, or whatever the topic of discussion might be. It’s the main reason why I avoid the term “liturgy wars.” I don’t believe in them. And when I see (or participate) in such a tussle, it’s really more about the people and the things of people,  rather than about God and the matters of God.

Let’s wrap up the Rite of Election for children of catechetical age. As with the adult rite (134) RCIA 287 lists intercessions, but only one set. Just a sample of a petition that has been edited:

That together we may fruitfully employ this Lenten season to renew ourselves through self-denial and works of holiness… (RCIA 134)

That together we may grow this Lent in our love for God and neighbor … (RCIA 287)

A few petitions are not drastically changed from option A in RCIA 134. Option B in the adult rite is actually less wordy than the adaptation here for young people. As another point of comparison, look at the Prayer over the Elect from the adult rite:

Lord God,
you created the human race
and are the author of its renewal.
Bless all your adopted children
and add these chosen ones
to the harvest of your new covenant.

As true children of the promise,
may they rejoice in eternal life,
won, not by the power of nature,
but through the mystery of your grace.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

And the given text in RCIA 288, option A:

Lord God,
you created us
and you give us life.
Bless these children
and add them to your family.
May they be joyful in the life you won for us
through Christ our Lord.

RCIA 289 gives the dismissal, adapted from the four options given in RCIA 136. And as with the adult rite, a concluding song “may”  conclude the liturgy. RCIA 290, the provision for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, is word-for-word identical with RCIA 68.

(This is Neil) The editor of New Blackfriars has generously made a number of articles about Thomas Aquinas freely available. One of them is Yves Congar’s “Saint Thomas Aquinas and the Spirit of Ecumenism,” originally published in 1974 (see here [PDF]). Cardinal (then-Père) Congar’s article would seem to be especially relevant as the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity just concluded a few days ago.

It must be said, the title of Congar’s article might at first seem counterintuitive, even opportunistic, for two main reasons. First, we do not generally consider the medieval period as a time marked by the respect for the other “as other” that is necessary for ecumenism. And didn’t Thomas Aquinas – perhaps a man of his time after all – write a Contra errores Graecorum? But, regarding Aquinas, he didn’t title his work himself, criticized only the rejection of the papal primary and the Filioque (which he understood as “per Filium”), and had a great deal of respect for the Greek Fathers. He never actually took part in actual discussions with Eastern Christians, and, if he had, he would have noted that the Greek and Latin Fathers, despite any disagreement, had managed to live in communion with one another.

Second, Congar notes, we often consider the “temper” of Aquinas’ “sensibility” to be quite different than the “existential point of view” of Lutheran and much later Protestant theology. There is some truth to this (see my posts here and here). But Congar tells us that Aquinas’ analyses and distinctions are means (“particular angles”) to approach reality. They are not meant to be “reified.” Furthermore, Aquinas is not interested in constructing a cold and impersonal system. He is actually very interested in human liberty. For instance, Congar writes that, in the IIa pars of the Summa, “man is not treated as a ‘nature’ in the current sense of the word, but as the creator of that which he is called to be, by his virtuous acts and the habitus: He creates himself.” Congar also notes that many Protestant theologians have appreciated Aquinas.

So, perhaps we may conclude that Aquinas is not anti-ecumenical, but can he provide constructive aid in the contemporary practice of ecumenism? Congar answers positively. Of course, Aquinas never participated in ecumenical dialogues, but his way of writing “formally” (“from a precisely determined point of view”) means that the essence of his thought can endure even in different historical contexts – “rather as gold abides under the fluctuations of currencies.” Thus, we might expect that Aquinas would provide a description of the new heaven and new earth that would presently be outdated, given his adherence to Aristotelian physics. But Aquinas merely “confines himself” to a formal principle: that the human body will be “entirely subject to the soul, God’s power so disposing, not in being only but in all actions, experiences, motions and bodily qualities” (Contra Gentiles IV.86) – namely, that the glorious liberty of the children of God will be fully realized. This principle can be accepted even in a time of quantum physics. Also, we can say that Aquinas carefully distinguishes between what it is necessary to maintain and what is merely opinion – between the certain and the hypothetical. Finally, unlike many of our coreligionists, Aquinas is very careful before using such terms as haereticum and erroneum.

Besides his method, which has ensured that his thought will endure, Aquinas has positions that are useful to recall in ecumenical discussions (here I will just mention three):

1. While it might be imagined that Catholics emphasize the permanence and finality of the church and its “official” theology, Aquinas always keeps in mind the eschatological reference of all things – thus, the church for Aquinas is always between the synagogue and the kingdom, not an end in itself. 

2.  Aquinas maintains that the virtues have God as ground, rule, and object, so to “believe” is not a human “work,” but merely to become receptive to the witness that God gives of himself.

3. Aquinas writes that the “Holy Church is the same as the assembly of the faithful,” and is primarily the house of God, where the faithful are washed in the blood of Christ, receive anointing, are made holy, and are sanctified (Expos. in Symbol. A 9).

In Aquinas, there is no confusion of the eschaton with the present, and no confusion of the spiritual with the temporal. There is no attraction to theocracy of any sort detectable in Aquinas.

Finally, Aquinas should inspire us with the sheer intensity of his search for the truth, no matter where he found it. The quaestio (“the discussion of the pro and contra, the determination of the doctrine to be held, the response to the objections) that is familiar to anyone who has even glanced at the Summa is an attempt to rescue the truth, even when it is surrounded by error. Aquinas follows the general principle of Aristotle:

And since in choosing or rejecting opinions … a person should not be influenced either by a liking or dislike for the one introducing the opinion, but rather by the certainty of truth, he therefore says that we must respect both parties, namely, those whose opinion we follow, and those whose opinion we reject. For both have diligently sought the truth and have aided us in this matter (Comm. in Metaph. XII, 9).

Thus, after obtaining even proscribed texts, Aquinas always begins by looking for the intentio auctoris – the intention of the author. This is not always an easy task – a formula might have been misused, or another passage might have to be referenced to make sense of the meaning of the original passage, or one might even need to have recourse to the “general aim” or “global intention” of a work. Aquinas, at one point, demonstrates that an argument from Augustine is unsound. But then he says, “Sed tamen ut profundius intentionem Augustini scrutemur …” (“However, if we examine more deeply the intention of Augustine”). Congar asks, “What results would have been yielded by a study which, after pointing out the questionable or even unacceptable meaning of a text by Luther, would have continued: ‘Sed tamen ut profundius intentionem Lutheri scrutemur’?” It is, I should say, very difficult to imagine Aquinas “fisking” anybody at all.

Aquinas, as it is well known, died on the way to the Second Council of Lyons in 1274. Congar asks one more question: What would Aquinas have said if he had lived to go there to speak about the procession of the Holy Spirit? In his De Potentia, Aquinas gives us the two principles he would have applied to the controversial question of the Filioque: first, the principle of development, and, second, the principle of the difference between the concepts and the terms with which the issue had been discussed in East and West. The Greeks had come to use the term “cause” to speak of the Father in his relationship with the Son and the Spirit, while the Latins thought that the use of this term would lead to serious problems. Aquinas claims “if we take careful note of the statements of the Greeks we shall find that they differ from us in words rather than in thought” (De Potentia 10.5.c). Conceivably, if Aquinas had lived to attend the council, the claim that was made two centuries later in Florence might have been made at Lyons: “That which the holy doctors and the Fathers declare, that is to say, that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father by the Son, is intended to signify that the Son, as well as the Father, is the cause – according to the Greeks – the principle – according to the Latins – of the subsistence of the Holy Spirit” (Laetentur coeli [1439]). (Obviously, I am not claiming here that East and West could have been fully reunited so easily.) 

Aquinas, then, might have looked forward, however distantly, to the principle of “equivalence” found in the Second Vatican Council’s Unitatis Redintegratio: that we might preserve unity in what is necessary, and diversity in “the various forms of spiritual life and discipline, or in the variety of liturgical rites, or even in the theological elaboration of revealed truth …” (my emphasis).

So, thus, Aquinas might be a resource for ecumenism in terms of his methods, positions, and, especially, the sheer intensity of his search for the truth.

What do you think?

The Rite of Election for children of catechetical age unfolds mostly as it did for adults. We’ll cover the red-n-black of these nine sections briefly over this post and tomorrow’s, just noting the differences from the adult rite.

RCIA 282 parallels RCIA 130 in that the person in charge of the catechumenate or a community representative presents the children by name. If a “great many children” are at the rite, the young people may be presented in groups, presumably by parish rather than by age. Some coordination is needed if individual naming is not included in the rite, as RCIA “advises” a special celebration prior to Election in which each child is called “forward by name.”

You may have noted that I skipped over the Rite of Sending. There is no adapted rite listed in RCIA. The only option given would be the rite used for adults (RCIA 106-117) presumably with  appropriate adaptation as needful.

RCIA 283 parallels RCIA 131. The variance is that “parents” are included in this as is [the assembly]. In the adult rite, the assembly is questioned separately regarding their support. With youth, the bracketing indicates they may be addressed at the presider’s option or discretion.

Invitation and Enrollment of Names (284, 132) follows. The text is adapted, except for the vital question asked of the children directly. It’s the same as for adults:

Therefore, do you wish to enter fully into the life of the Church through the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and eucharist?

The rubric that follows, describing options for the children giving and/or enrolling their names is identical to that of adults. Check this post on RCIA 132 for commentary.

RCIA 285 alters things a bit, but the essence is still the same. The “Act of Admission or Election” finds the celebrant explaining in brief the “significance of the enrollment,” as he does for adults. The rite with youth has the celebrant addressing the entire assembly instead of the godparents specifically (as in RCIA 133). Then curiously, the youth rite adds, in RCIA 286, a “Recognition of the Godparents.” Here’s the rubric:

286. The celebrant may speak briefly of the new relationship which will exist between the parents and godparents of theelect. He may conclude by placing his outstretched hands over the parents and godparents while praying in these or similar words.

May Almighty God bring joy to your hearts as you see the hope of eternal life shine  on these elect. Steadfastly bear witness to your faith by what you say and do. May these children grow as faithful members of God’s holy people. And may you be a constant support to each other, in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Perhaps not a shining moment for the framers of the rite. The presider’s text sort of floats back and forth between being a prayer to God (sentences 1 and 3) and an instruction to the people (sentences 2 and 4). If this rite is used, I would urge some thought to the option, “similar words.” Otherwise, no further comment from me. What about you?

I haven’t posted links to music in some months. I have some recordings, but none are really in finished form. I have a rough take of a setting of Isaiah 12. The text of the verses is Rev Carl F. Daw’s adaptation of the canticle. The text is copyright © 1982 Hope Publishing Company and is used here with their permission. Rev Daw has also approved a slight adaptation, the addition of a refrain for easier use at the Easter Vigil.

Anyway, here is the audio version of “We Draw Water Joyfully.”

If, for some reason, you wish to “test” this, you will need to arrange permission to use the text with Hope. I’m only authorized to present the audio, as long as I don’t profit from it.

A few Taize-style refrains:

Arms Wide Open

Wings of Holy Zeal

And an old setting of Psalm 134 for Compline that attracted a bit of GIA attention many, many years ago:

Come Bless The Lord

As you can see from the manuscript, on the first one, I have a notion of setting parts of Jeremiah 1 as verses for this. No idea how that might unfold. I used it at Taize Prayer last weekend, and at first I thought it didn’t compare well to the other four pieces chosen. The only saving grace, I thought, was that “Arms Wide Open” was the theme of the retreat. But then people maintained the singing for it just as I thought it was flagging a bit. No comments thumbs up or down from anybody on it.

On the second one, I’ve always liked that quote since I saw it in a Claretian publication a few years ago. This setting has never been used in liturgy or even seen by anyone else. (My wife won’t like that, probably.)

Regarding “Come Bless The Lord,” this has been seen and done several times: at an NPM convention, in a few parishes, a few summer liturgy gatherings. It was meant for Night Prayer, or perhaps Evening Prayer at a stretch (the Collegeville Benedictines use 134 for Vespers) not for Sunday Mass. The three wind parts, choir parts, and verses are all stacked in the manuscript, but you know the drill for Taize, right? I would have a treble instrument state the melody, then the cantor intone, then as the assembly gets comfortable singing, add the voice parts. Instrument parts enter judiciously, probably not while the psalmist is singing. Verse one comes in several times later, choir and assembly maintaining the refrain (if they dare). Then a few refrains, then verse 2, then a few more refrains, then verse 3, then several refrains to take things back down to quiet simplicity.

Parishes have my express permission to use the three printed settings above for their own experimentation or liturgical use. My only request is to send a report back to me. If there’s any composer out there who would like to take a stab at verses for the first two Taize pieces, I’m willing to collaborate. Have fun.

The outline of the Rite of Election for adults and the one for children of catechetical age are virtually identical. The additions for young people are two: the inclusion of parents in the affirmation by the godparents, plus an optional “Recognition of the Godparents” placed after the Act of Election.

I suspect that recent legislation clamping down on lay preaching would abrogate it, but I’ll offer the 1988 text giving the rubrics for the homily:

281. The bishop, or the celebrant who acts as a delegate of the bishop, gives the homily. This should be brief and suitable to the understanding of the children. If the celebrant finds it difficult in the homily to adapt himself to the mentality of the children, one of the adults, for example, the children’s catechist, may speak to the children after the gospel.

While I think there are any number of lay people who could and should be given an opportunity for liturgical preaching, I think letting a bishop or priest off the hook at a major church liturgy is wrongheaded, even if children are present. First, I think that being an effective preacher means being able to communicate with children and youth. A cleric unable to do this probably shouldn’t have the faculties to preach in the first place.

The content of the “brief” homily is a no-brainer:

The entire community should be encouraged to give good example to the children and to show their support and interest in them as they prepare to celebrate the Easter sacraments.

You can’t get much easier that this. While it may be preaching to the choir, so to speak, it does give the bishop or other preacher an opportunity. A lay person may not be able to preach these days, but a wise preacher, if he were a bit adrift on the content of the Election homily might well attempt a simple exchange, approaching a number of parents, godparents, catechists, and pastors, and ask them, “What message do you need to hear as these children approach the Easter sacraments?” Speaking with the children themselves, if only in the cathedral parish, might be a good idea, too.

What do you think?

So I see the pope is promoting the New Media as a tool for evangelization. Good. The bishops laughed at the suggestion back in 2008 that the pope should start a blog. And naturally, St Blog’s sees this as sort of a justification for all the time we spend online. Good, too, I suppose.

But getting back to the New Media, I think the Holy Father could take his own advice. If he did a blog, even if it were just brief transcripts of his addresses or bits and pieces of his books and other writings, he would be seeing hundreds of thousands of hits a day. No priest, not even Father Z, could generate that.

(This is Neil)

Day 8
Theme: Witness through Hospitality
Text – Have you anything here to eat? (Luke 24:41)

Readings
Gen 18:1-8 Let me bring a little bread, that you may refresh yourselves
Psalm 146 He who gives justice to the oppressed and gives food to the hungry
Romans 14:17-19 Pursue what makes for peace and mutual edification
Luke 24:41-48 Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures

Commentary
Today, electronic communication has made us neighbours in one small and overloaded planet. As in the time of Luke, many peoples and communities have had to leave their homes, wandering and journeying to strange lands. People of the world’s great faiths have arrived bringing new beliefs and cultures to our communities.

In the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity we recognise in our shared journey towards unity the hospitality and companionship of Christians of all churches. Christ also calls us both to offer and to receive the hospitality of the stranger who has become our neighbour. Surely, if we cannot see Christ in the other, then we cannot see Christ at all.

The story in Genesis describes how Abraham receives God in opening his house and offering hospitality to strangers.

The God of all creation also stands with the prisoner, the blind, the stranger. Our psalm is an offering of praise for God’s everlasting faithfulness and all that God has done for us.

The text from Romans reminds us that the kingdom of God comes about through justice and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.

The resurrected Christ brings his disciples together, eats with them and they recognise him again. He reminds them of what the scriptures said about him and explains what they did not understand before. Thus, he frees them from their doubts and fears and sends them out to become witnesses of these things. In creating this space for encounter with him he enables them to receive his peace, that implies justice for the oppressed, care for the hungry and the mutual up-building as the gifts of the new world of the resurrection. Christians throughout history have found the risen Lord as they have served others and been served by others in faith, so we too can encounter Christ when we share our lives and our gifts.

Prayer
God of love, You have shown us your hospitality in Christ. We acknowledge that through sharing our gifts with all we meet you. Give us the grace that we may become one on our journey together and recognise you in one another. In welcoming the stranger in your name may we become witnesses to your hospitality and your justice.

Reflection questions
1. To what extent is the country in which you live hospitable to the stranger?
2. How in your own neighbourhood can the stranger find hospitality and a space to live?
3. How might you show gratitude for those who have shown you hospitality by being available?
4. How does the cross show us that God’s hospitality is a hospitality lived out in total self-giving?

Evangelization hums along pretty well in your parish. Your colleague, the RCIA director, speaks with you about this year’s crop of catechumens. A good group, you hear, but with the possible taint of heresy.  That perks your ears. You’ve been asked to include this list of names into the Vigil’s Litany of Saints.

Take the Purple Chair and render judgment. Which names make the Easter Vigil cut this year? Who is sent back for a middle name or a patron saint? Here’s the list:

Amadeus
Arian
Baxter
Elvis
Giles
Gnosis
Hermione
Irenaeus
Miles
Minerva
Modern
Nestor
Niles
Severus
Superba
Wolfgang
Zambdas

Who’s a saint? A pretender? A heretic? Have any names of your own to offer up?

I’ve wanted to get back to Msgr Marini’s much-touted and much-promoted address on reform2. One of the weakest points of his talk is his treatment of participation. He does concede that the principle of participation is all over the Vatican II documents, and not only the liturgy constitution. He recognizes the many follow-up documents in 1964 and the years that follow.

Nevertheless, there has not always been a correct understanding of the concept of “active participation”, according to how the Church teaches it and exhorts the faithful to live it.

This is one of those ideas that, when repeated frequently enough, may start to have the ring of truth to it. For my part, I will concede that some lay people at some times, in seeking to imitate the priest as the “ideal participant,” have focused too much on advocating specialized liturgical roles as the ideal participation. I’ve never promoted liturgical involvement in that way, and I know many of my professional colleagues have not, either.

Msgr Marini’s point misses or ignores the main challenge of post-conciliar pastoral liturgy; the engagement of the assembly on all levels.

When parishioners fold their arms at the early Sunday morning Mass and refuse to sing, I’ve accepted that situation, and others like it, as part of a challenge of ministry. A refusal to be engaged by the rite doesn’t presume (automatically) a lack of faith or its expression. Believers sin, but it doesn’t cancel baptism. Married couples enter difficult periods or separations because of jobs, emotions, etc., but it doesn’t affect the sacramental reality of their marriage. People may be imperfectly engaged by the liturgy, and the correct pastoral approach by priests and other leaders is to invite them to a deeper role in the Mass. Why? Not to make the Mass more exciting. But to complement a faith that is already present, and to effect the Church’s earthly purpose for the liturgy: the sanctification of the faithful, a cooperation with the grace of Christ.

The pope’s liturgist quotes an unfortunate section from the Holy Father’s book, The Spirit of the Liturgy.

By the actio of the liturgy the sources mean the Eucharistic prayer. The real liturgical action, the true liturgical act, is the oratio. …This oratio—the Eucharistic Prayer, the “Canon”—is really more than speech; it is actio in the highest sense of the word.

Not looking far enough afield, I think. Early and Patristic traditions valued the proclamation of the Word as well. I think we are safe in being able to elevate the value of Christ’s kerygma, his proclamation of salvation, especially through the Gospels, as part of this oratio.

If this talk is to be taken as some sort of manifesto on or for the reform2 movement, I think the exclusive emphasis on adoration will be its major flaw. What I read as adoration in many places in this address is sometimes just a synonym for reverence. Liturgy includes this, but it includes much, much more. There are times in the Roman Rite when we are asked to make a proclamation of faith: the acclamations after the readings, the Creed, Memorial Acclamation A, for example. We are also called to sing, and the primary songbook we are given (the Psalter) offers not only moments of adoration, but praise, petition, lament, as well as our human emotions.

Msgr Marini offers four questions at the end of this section. I want to answer them briefly, and then turn it over to the commentariat:

Are we truly certain that the promotion of an active participation consists in rendering everything to the greatest extent possible immediately comprehensible?

This wouldn’t be my definition of active participation. But the best moments of the liturgy: the proclamation of the Scriptures, the Eucharistic Prayer, and the Communion procession: these should be obvious. These are not the moments for incomprehension, at least not perpetrated by leaders.

May it not be the case that entering into God’s mystery might be facilitated and, sometimes, even better accompanied by that which touches principally the reasons of the heart?

Is Msgr Marini appealing to the affective side of humanity? An emotional connection between God and an attitude of adoration? I think that the “feelings” connected to reverence, must be balanced with other human factors, things like courage in the face of trials, tenacity in belief, a conscious decision of the will to follow Christ. And perhaps other emotional responses as the Psalms and the Gospels illustrate–lament, joy, and even more “negative” aspects like anger or discouragement. Do we not bring these to God as well, for healing and restoration, if for nothing else?

Is it not often the case that a disproportionate amount of space is given over to empty and trite speech, forgetting that both dialogue and silence belong in the liturgy, congregational singing and choral music, images, symbols, gestures?

This isn’t new to the reform2 movement. Progressive liturgists have been promoting silence and dialogue for decades.

Do not, perhaps, also the Latin language, Gregorian chant, and sacred polyphony belong to this manifold language which conducts us to the center of the mystery?

Certainly they do, but they are not the only sacred expressions of liturgical participation.

Let’s crunch together these three sections of instruction on the Rite of Election for children of catechetical age. For the basic principles and discussion, the Rite of Election is covered in RCIA 118 and through to section 135.

RCIA 278 is a reminder that readiness is based on the “testimony” of adults: parents, godparents, and catechists. “Election,” or the Church’s choice, is also influenced by the children’s “reaffrimation of their intention.” Are child catechumens prepared to witness, on an age-appropriate level, to their intention?

RCIA 279 designates a priority of places for the celebration of election: cathedral, parish church, “some other suitable and fitting place.” This section also reminds that if children are enrolled with adult catechumens, the adult rite (RCIA 129ff) should be used, and the presider is authorized to offer “appropriate adaptation.”

A word on adaptation, pretty much any liturgical sort. To be effective, it must be planned. A liturgical minister does poorly to adapt on the fly. The pace of presidency, especially, is affected by one pace with the comfortable words of a script, and changed to something pause-pitted and grammatically questionable when words and phrases are altered on the spur of the moment.

RCIA 280 designates that Election is celebrated after a homily at Mass. It should take place on the First Sunday of Lent. The ritual Mass from the Missal (Christian Initiation: Election) is to be used. Readings are to be taken from the First Sunday of Lent, though “others may be chosen from elsewhere in the Lectionary.”

One last comment before opening up the discussion. This would not be a situation in which I would find most any “Masses with Children” adaptations very helpful. Election is a community celebration, not one necessarily devoted to children. While children are the focus of the sacramental journey, the rites directed to them are given in adapted form in the sections that follow (281-290). If explanation or instruction must be part of the liturgy, then the processions, music, and a carefully crafted homily should shoulder the task.