Catholic Sensibility

As a response to the US Bishops’ Fortnight of Freedom, I’d like to offer an alternative. My readers here know of my skepticism with the USCCB campaign. It strikes me as politically motivated, possibly. And even if the bishops protest that it’s not, groups such as the NRLC have inserted themseves into the opportunity to make it so.

Starting today, and running for two weeks, I’ll offer up daily reflections on good and holy women. I have a few guest-bloggers coming in, and I’m open to more. And your suggestions–not every slot is filled as of this morning. Hopefully we can observe the conduct of holy women in the face of freedoms denied and perhaps gain some needed perspective in the spiritual life, not just for political purposes. Not all of the featured women were “red” martyrs for the faith. But all suffered, usually cruelly, at the hands of men who seemed concerned less for the freedom of others and more for their own privileges.

Marguerite Porete of 14th century France seems a good place to begin. Speaking of which, Marguerite was a beguine. Beguines first appeared in what are today the low countries, Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxembourg around 1100AD. The first Beguines took no vows, devoted themselves to prayer and apostolic action, and lived alone or sometimes in small communities on the fringes of villages and towns. A woman could choose a temporary or lifelong commitment. There were no rules, official ecclesiastical recognition, or such. Beguines were just lay people who followed the prescriptions of the Gospel: loving God and neighbor.

And so we have free women, outside of a cloister, praying like religious, performing charity, and operating outside of institutional Catholic structures. The movement seems more serious than third degree associations or volunteer corps. Less rigorous than permanent monastic life. It seems reasonable to me that not every Catholic woman fits into one of two slots: household or convent. Clearly Beguines inhabited a well-discerned place apart from these two.

Naturally, some believers were suspicious of them. Various heresies were attributed to some groups. But the lack of organization along the lines of traditional nuns likely meant that “heretical” Beguines were individuals, not the movement as a whole. And indeed, many well-regarded saints favored the Beguines. And it might also have been that like today, “heresy” was more about “stuff we don’t like” than material that was actually counter to the Christian faith.

We know only two things of Marguerite. She wrote a book. And the Church invested considerable resources to try her for heresy, ensure her conviction, and erase her apostolate from influence. This passage from the beginning of her work might sting a bit in some quarters:

You who would read this book,
If you indeed wish to grasp it,
Think about what you say,
For it is very difficult to comprehend;
Humility, who is keeper of the treasury of Knowledge
And the mother of the other Virtues,
Must overtake you.

Theologians and other clerks,
You will not have the intellect for it,
No matter how brilliant your abilities,
If you do not proceed humbly.
And may Love and Faith, together
Cause you to rise above Reason,
Since they are the ladies of this house.

For the early 1300′s, The Mirror of Simple Souls had good things going for it: a huge following among lay Catholics, written in the vernacular, and it was backed up by what looked like a promotional tour. My parish’s library has a copy of Mirror, but it’s been checked out for a while. I haven’t read it, but I’ve seen it described as building on the premise that communion with God and love for neighbor places one on the path to spiritual perfection. It’s an interesting personal confluence, as I’ve been reading Meg Funk’s Thoughts Matter and I’ve been struck there by her suggestions toward the discipline of thoughtless prayer with the aim of achieving a certain spiritual purity before God. From Marguerite:

Thought is no longer of worth to me,
Nor work, nor speech.
Love draws me so high
(Thought is no longer of worth to me)
With her divine gaze,
That I have not intent.
Thought is no longer of worth to me,
nor work, nor speech.

Marguerite came to the attention of the Inquisition because she was a popular traveling preacher, and unattached to a community like other Beguines. And she was not shut up behind a cloister wall. Or shut up by superiors. After her conviction in April 1310, she was handed over to the secular authorities. Less than two months later, she was burned to death.

The parallels with today are obvious. I was thinking about the Archdiocese of St Louis that wanted a secular court to evict the dissenters at St Stanislaus Parish, and complained when the judgment didn’t go their way. In the 14th century, alas, the Church was thick with secular authorities, and could merely turn over people it didn’t like for punishment, or worse.

The Mirror of Simple Souls continued to circulate for centuries, without an author’s byline. It wasn’t until the 1940′s when Catholics rediscovered that it was written by a “heretic.” By that time, the book had received an imprimatur and nihil obstat as an anonymous work of medieval spirituality. Others have noted that Juan de la Cruz covered a lot of Marguerite’s material in a similar way in The Ascent of Mount Carmel. Love, and the love of God, seems irresistible. Death cannot stop it. Fire cannot quench it.

Today there is an international society devoted to the woman and her witness of faith. And I’d like to leave off with a reflection that suggests something of 1 John 4:7ff:

I am God, says Love,
for Love is God and God is Love,
and this Soul is God by the condition of Love.

I am God by divine nature
and this Soul is God by the condition of Love.

Thus this precious beloved of mine
is taught and guided by me,
without herself,
for she is transformed into me,
and such a perfect one, says Love,
takes my nourishment.

I like Marguerite. Audacious. Simple. Worthy.

As we read yesterday, a community might have a church already in use. At some point, a liturgy is needed to mark a shift in status ((perhaps from chapel or oratory) or to celebrate a significant renovation or restoration. Chapter III of the RDCA, brief though it is, gives these important differences from the previous chapter:

2. All the directions given in the Introduction to chapter two apply to this rite, unless they are clearly extraneous to the situation which this rite envisages or other directions are given.

This rite differs chiefly from that described in chapter two on these points:

• a) The rite of opening the doors of the church (see chapter two, no. 34 or no. 41) is omitted, since the church is already open to the community; consequently, the entrance rite takes the form of the simple entrance (see chapter two, nos. 43-47). However, in the case of dedicating a church closed for a long time and now being opened again for sacred celebrations, the rite of opening the doors may be carried out, since in this case it retains its point and significance.
• b) The rite of handing over the church to the bishop (see chapter two, no. 33 or no. 40 or no. 47), depending on the situation, is either to be followed, omitted, or adapted in a way relevant to the condition of the church being dedicated (for example, it will be right to retain it in dedicating a church built recently; to omit it in dedicating an older church where nothing has been changed in the structure; to adapt it in dedicating an older church completely restored).
• c) The rite of sprinkling the church walls with holy water (see chapter two, nos. 48-50), purificatory by its very nature, is omitted.
• d) All the rites belonging to the first proclamation of the word of God in a church (see chapter two, no. 53) are omitted; thus the liturgy of the word takes place in the usual way. A different, pertinent reading is chosen in place of Neh 8:1-4a and its responsorial psalm, Ps 19b:8-9,10,15 (see chapter two, no. 54a).

Commentary:

2a would seem to suggest that if a church were closed for renovation, a period of months, that the opening of the doors could be ritualized. From my experience, I remember this was done for a parish renovation that took six months, but not for one that required just four weeks.

2b seems very clear. My recollection with my “six month” parish was that we didn’t “hand over” the building to our bishop. It had already been done a half-century before when the original structure was dedicated.

2d brings us to an interesting point with readings. If dedicating a church already in use doesn’t trigger certain rituals, including the special Lectionary reading, then it probably doesn’t raise the event to the level of a liturgical observance. In other words, the original dedication of a church already is use is the proper observance. And if that is true, then this Mass of Chapter III becomes more a ritual Mass and not a solemnity. Treatment of the Gospel reading would need to follow ordinary practice. My 1996 parish’s rededication was celebrated on the Sunday of Christ the King. I don’t recall us departing from that day’s Lectionary, except for the second reading.

Thoughts?