Paschal Candle Details

There is a long tradition in my parish of decorating a “blank” paschal candle. A parishioner used to make them each year, but she has “retired” from that duty. The past few years, I’ve ordered a plain candle from a provider.

The decorating used to consist of a “band” which somewhat randomly assembled some of the elements: date, Greek letters, the cross. One of our parishioners, bless her, is still working on the old template, and produced a nice embroidered band, which you see above, which just had the word “Alleluia” on it. (Her idea–not mine.) No date, cross, or other details. She also thought a “tilted” presentation would serve well.

So we repurposed the decorative band from last year’s candle to make the cross, and I was able to confect two Greek letters. The gold numerals for the date are easy to find at a craft store–thanks to my wife.

I really dislike the wax nubs candle providers send. I always have. I like instead the red beads here–more suggestive of drops of living blood.

I’ve decorated homemade paschal candles and plain ones all sorts of ways for many years. I’m hoping to hike up this effort significantly in 2014. Anybody out there have any good ideas from their own history?

 

Homeless Jesus

What the cathedrals in Toronto and New York rejected, was accepted at a Jesuit school of theology at the University of Toronto.

The artist:

It was very upsetting because the rectors liked it, but when it got to the administration, people thought it might be too controversial or vague.

What do you think? Too radical a depiction of Matthew 25:31-46? Inappropriate, as the big city archbishops suggested?

Regis College dean Rev Gordon Rixon:

The mission of our college is to promote critical theology, with advocacy for justice and an appreciation of beauty.

 

 

Advent Wreath

Our townie neighbors to the north have their Advent wreath set up in their narthex. The icon of Christ in the center–that’s usually where they display an icon or image of a saint on the feast day. I like this set-up. I think it tempts young Christians to enter that circle, but hey–seasonal festive adventurism is good.

 

You Can’t Just Haul A Cooler of Wine to Mass

… and come away with a chest of Blood. Artist Sebastian Errazuriz suggests that his supply of vino was …

inadvertently blessed by the priest while turning wine into the blood of Christ during the Eucharist.

Well, no. It doesn’t work that way.

But the making of wine popsicles on a crucifix stick, that’s slightly clever. On the other hand, I prefer my wine chilled and white, not frozen.

 

Following Up: Stations of King’s Cross

Two  months ago, I blogged on Stations of the King’s Cross, reproductions of paper cuttings depicting the Via Dolorosa for London train travelers. The artist has been in touch and sends this word:

On Saturday 26^th May an exhibition of the original artworks will open at St Mary’s, Eversholt Street (near King’s Cross Station.) Rather neatly, this is the eve of Pentecost, which marks the end of the Easter Season. The exhibition will open with an evening prayer at 7pm, followed by refreshments, and an opportunity to view the artworks accompanied by live piano music. The well known Catholic poet Sarah de Nordwall (one of the Catholic Voices) will be performing some poetry, and free booklets will be available for people to take as they please. Everyone is welcome to the event.

The paper-cuts have been professionally framed and will be sold by silent auction: bids can be submitted at St. Mary’s, or online at www.stationsofthekingscross.com. Details of the leading bids will be updated every day throughout the exhibition.

All proceeds will be donated to the following charities:

• Mary’s Meals (who provide one daily meal in a place of education to attract chronically poor children into a classroom where they receive an education that can, in the future, be their ladder out of poverty.)
• St Vincent de Paul Society (who tackle poverty in all its forms through the provision of practical assistance to those in need.)
• The Bard School (an open community supporting faith-based artists.)

The exhibition will be open 9am – 8pm daily up to and including Monday 4th June.

Booklets illustrating the papercuts were available on the Circle Line and can also be acquired for free from the artist’s web site. A sample:

Some audio from Britain featuring an interview with the hosting pastor, Fr John Caster: Stations of King’s Cross-bbc-radio

 

Daily Mass Ambo

Here is my parish’s daily Mass ambo. It’s a bit worse for wear, and a few parishioners and I have been either repairing it or chatting about a replacement for the past few years.

If we do opt to replace, it will have to be reasonably portable, as this chapel is set up with seats facing the nave for weekends. One candidate to replace is our Sunday Mass ambo. There has also been discussion to have at least a platform for it a bit more mobility accessible. And we’ve been trying to figure out a good way to display the Book of Gospels during the week. There’s not an easy way to accommodate a display option into the existing design without upsetting the overall effect.

For your parishes, are you satisfied with your parish appointments for Sunday and daily Mass? What would you replace? Do you provide for the display of the Book of Gospels? Share pictures if you wish.

 

Perspective

No, not Crystal’s blog, which you should certainly visit. The Little Planet Projection makes an appearance in today’s Astronomy Picture of the Day.

We’ll always have Paris, yes?

A hundred here.

The young miss has not had an easy time of it in her elective this semester, photography. She had signed on for a second term stint in 2-D Art, which I understand is some kind of computer graphics course. For some reason, despite other students lifting her supplies, loaning out a camera to a friend, having someone open the door while she was in the dark room, and not getting along with the teacher, she’s pondering a switch to Photography II. I like my daughter’s perspective. If at first you don’t succeed, continue harping away until you get satisfaction. Don’t we live on a little planet, we two.

 

How Green Is Our Green?

Now that the white, gold, and silver festivities of the Christmas season are behind us, it’s time to consider the Church’s shorter stretch of ordinary (or ordinal–counted) time. I hope your green vestments are laundered and burnished and ready to go, if not for today, then for Sunday, at least.

I have to say I’ve usually been unimpressed with the papal vestments I’ve seen the past several years. This sea-green shade has gotten a lot of mileage, at least on Google. I’ve seen images of the pope with a shimmering bluish-green, too. That seems even less inspired. At least the chasuble on the left is a relatively pure green, if lacking a certain gravitas.

But while this shade on the right is a bit more serious, it’s still a tad too light and too yellow for my taste. Olive just doesn’t float my boat.

One challenge is the Catholic indulgence for trimming green vestments in gold. You may feel differently about it, and I know that gold is well-intentioned. But the overall green+gold effect is just too yellowy and not quite serious enough for liturgy. It reminds me of the Packers, all too often.

Silver trim with a forest green is much better. Our parish’s new ordinary time vestment would be about as light of a shade of green as I would go:

Our committee really grilled my friend David Cooper to get something just right for us. The committee didn’t need my opinions–they were hoping for something a bit darker than the very darkest in David’s cloth samples. Here’s a closer look at that shows a pleasant green, silver lining, and a red-to-green pallette for the center:

What about your parishes, my friends? How green do you go?

 

Ruth of the Dust Bowl

A bit of discernment ahead. If any readers would like to chime in, I’d appreciate.

I’ve fielded a serious suggestion to set my next Bible musical in modern or near-modern times. Naomi and her family leave their rural homestead for the city, maybe Kansas  City. Ruth, a city-born daughter-in-law returns with her, and eventually hooks up with Boaz not through the Old Testament tradition of the redeemer, but in a more usual 20th-century courtship.

The music of the times would be easy: lots of jazz (Tin Pan Alley, St Louis ragtime, Kansas City blues, Dixieland, etc.) as well as the emerging acoustic genres of the south: bluegrass, western swing, etc., plus church genres: shape note tunes, gospel, and the like.

I had in mind to polish the Bible-set musical, to do Tobit one step better with my own style. Save the retelling for a revival. But now I’m not so sure. Ruth of the Dust Bowl would be better on a stage rather than in a church. One of the students in the cast said I should consider the marketability of the production. And he was sincere. But am I looking for a bigger market? Or artistic integration? Or inspiring faith? And perhaps all of these aspects are not necessarily exclusive. It is possible to have the story of faith get out there for the widest possible audience–that’s what evangelization is all about, isn’t it?

 

Spare the Crystal

Count me as not a fan of Bishop Brown’s plan to acquire the Crystal Cathedral. Jimmy Mac sent me an email with a tagline like “second collection for air conditioning.” I would love to see the plans for adapting this building for Catholic worship. But I’m strictly a wood and stone man when it comes to churches. Glass is nice for windows and vessels, but not walls and a roof.

I hear the acoustics are horrific in the new acquisition, too. According to this piece, it wasn’t 13 years before the Crystal Cathedral was on its third sound system.

 

Asmodeus: The Blur of Evil

There was discussion on how to depict the demon afflicting Sarah. We didn’t determine an actual casting role for certain until we were well into rehearsals. From Tobit 3:17:

So Raphael was sent to heal … to give Sarah, the daughter of Raguel, as a wife to Tobiah, the son of Tobit, and to rid her of the wicked demon Asmodeus.

My friend John captured this blurred image of Asmodeus, who appears lurking around Sarah. Hopefully the audience gets the drift that the demon is invisible to the characters. The image is serendipitous, in that if we could show the demon as a blur of action, that would be closer to my ideal. Perhaps in the film version. As it is, the blend of blood red and black, the inhuman beak, and the hand that deals death: this image may be imperfect in focus, but it depicts the nature of evil all too well.

 

Asmodeus

My friend Anna plays a role totally out of character for her, but here is a phone image of the wicked demon:

Tobiah, mindful of Raphael’s instructions, took the fish’s liver and heart from the bag where he had them, and put them on the embers intended for incense. The odor of the fish repulsed the demon, and it fled to the upper regions of Egypt; Raphael went in pursuit of it and there bound it hand and foot. (Tobit 8:2-3)

Our costumer has done a great job with this. My only direction was to make sure the character looked inhuman.

 

Armani Vestments

I’m not super-impressed with the Armani vestments donated to the Church for the use of Bishop Domenico Mogavero. Silk is nice, but I hope the bishop isn’t inclined to sweat. Silk stains easily.

Starfish, coral, and sea shells: I  have no objection to natural objects being used as liturgical symbols, but I prefer vestments without them. What about you?

 

Susanna the Just

Just a heads up if you’re not going to Mass regularly this Lent, one of the best Old Testament stories is coming up in the Lectionary on Monday. Rembrandt von Rijn depicts his usual characters in the spotlight, except the elders are in the dark.

Artemisia Gentileschi’s depiction also picks up on the invasion of sexual abuse: the elders in attacking a woman at bath, one’s presumptive touch of her hair and the other whispering to keep it all a delicious secret.

Daniel offers the best legal defense in the Bible in dealing with these two:

After they were separated one from the other, he called one of them and said: “How you have grown evil with age! Now have your past sins come to term: passing unjust sentences, condemning the innocent, and freeing the guilty, although the Lord says,’ The innocent and the just you shall not put to death. Now, then, if you were a witness, tell me under what tree you saw them together.”

“Under a mastic tree,” he answered.

“Your fine lie has cost you your head,” said Daniel; “for the angel of God shall receive the sentence from him and split you in two.”

Putting him to one side, he ordered the other one to be brought. “Offspring of Canaan, not of Judah,” Daniel said to him, “beauty has seduced you, lust has subverted your conscience. This is how you acted with the daughters of Israel, and in their fear they yielded to you; but a daughter of Judah did not tolerate your wickedness. Now, then, tell me under what tree you surprised them together.”

“Under an oak,” he said.

“Your fine lie has cost you also your head,” said Daniel; “for the angel of God waits with a sword to cut you in two so as to make an end of you both.”

The whole assembly cried aloud, blessing God who saves those that hope in him.

Getting back to the Dutch Master, I’m struck with Susanna’s appeal to the viewer. She’s looking at us, isn’t she?

Victims of unjust authority, especially Church authority, also look to us, especially those who follow the sorry news of badly behaving bishops and their partners of abuse in the presbyterate. Those who assembled the Lectionary obviously thought that the defense of the innocent was a priority of the season. I would hope the lesson we glean from Daniel 13 isn’t just to appeal to God in hope when we are in need of salvation. We are like Daniel, of course, and charged with the defense of the innocent, even when it goes against the mob.

 

“I have seen the figure of Christ.”

I wanted to share a blind parishioner’s encounter with our new processional crucifix. The pastor related it to me:

She heard that there was a new processional crucifix.  Probably her husband John described it to her.  She asked me if it would be OK for her to touch it.  Yes, of course, I said.  So with her husband’s help she explored the figure with her fingers.  She commented on the smoothness of some parts.  She could distinguish the nails, for example, and the crown of thorns. At the end she said something like, “I have seen the figure of Christ.  It is beautiful.”