Sunday, May 24, 2015

Dominica Pentecostes

Pentecost
El Greco (1541-1614)

Deus qui hodierna die corda fidelium sancti spiritus illustratione docuisti: da nobis in eodem spiritu recta sapere, et de eius semper consolatione gaudere.

O God, who on this day hadst taught the hearts of Thy faithful by the light of the Holy Ghost, grant us by the same Spirit to have a right judgment in all things and ever to rejoice in His consolation.

Friday, May 22, 2015

Criticizing the Pope

St. Paul rebukes St. Peter

Steve Skojec over at One Peter Five has recently broached a topic of great importance for faithful Catholics today: Can a Catholic criticize the Pope? I was tempted to write a longer piece on this subject, but it's so important that I think it wiser to try to keep the discussion focused at one place. Since Steve brought it up, and wrote a good article to get the discussion started, I'm perfectly happy to direct readers over there. I see that Pat Archbold of Creative Minority Report has done the same. If you're interested in hearing my thoughts on the subject, please see the comments section beneath Steve's post.

The Memorial

Eleventh Conference on the Most Sacred Heart

 by
 Fr. Henry Brinkmeyer

According to Clement XIII, one of the aims of the devotion to the Sacred Heart is to inspire us with love for the Blessed Eucharist by recalling to our minds the unspeakable love which instituted it. The divine Sacrament of the Eucharist has been called the last effort of the boundless love of our Saviour for man. It may be considered under four heads: first, as a Memorial; secondly, as a Sacrament; thirdly, as a Sacrifice, and fourthly, as the Real Presence.

Every tabernacle is surmounted by a cross because the Blessed Sacrament is a blessed memorial of our Lord's Passion and death. "As often as ye shall eat this bread and drink this chalice, ye shall show forth the death of the Lord until He come." Why? First, because it was given as a parting gift on the eve of the passion, and secondly, because it contains our Lord and perpetuates Him as the Victim of the Cross.

In the first place, it was given as a parting gift. Let us recall the touching episode of the Last Supper. Jesus and His apostles are seated at the table for the celebration of the Paschal solemnity. It is the last meal they are to take together, for He is about to leave them. They have lived in His company for almost three years. He has been the kindest of masters and truest of friends, and now He is to part from them. Their hearts are filled with sorrow. Our Lord is sorrowful, too. He knows how they will miss Him. He knows their weakness. "You shall all be scandalized in Me," He says to them. Every farewell makes a pathetic scene. He is going to meet death; tomorrow evening at the same hour He will be in His grave, and they will have shamefully forsaken Him; their head and chief will have even thrice denied Him. Jesus foresees all this, yet He will not cast them off. "Having loved His own, He loved them unto the end." Even in those last hours of His life, when His soul is sorrowful unto death, He will give them a token of His undying love. He will give them a pledge of affection which shall compel them to remember Him.

A death-bed gift is always a precious gift, more especially if it be a souvenir to which the heart of the dying one clings, and around which entwine all the tenderest memories of the dear departed one. What gift will He bestow in that last hour? The Father had so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son. What will the Son bequeath to us, He who is not only God, but also man, whose kind human Heart with all its human love is shrinking from the impending separation, and bleeding to leave those He loves alone, like poor sheep scattered without a shepherd? "My delight is to be with the sons of men!" "O Lord," we may exclaim, "abide with us. The greatest gift Thou couldst bestow would be Thy lasting presence in our midst! Alas! That cannot be since Thou art to die and return to Thy Father. But lo! Thy loving pledge we hear: 'I am with you all days, even to the consummation of ages.'"

Yes, love makes all things possible, His presence amongst us is indeed the gift He is about to confer upon His children. He is to die, and yet to remain living amid these scenes until the end of time. Listen to His words:
I am the living Bread that came down from heaven. [...] Who soever eateth Me, the same shall live by Me. [...] Take ye and eat, this is My Body. Drink ye all of this, for this is My Blood.
And then He adds:
Do this; do as you have seen Me do. You also take bread and wine and consecrate them into My Flesh and My Blood, and do this in memory of Me.
And:
As often as ye shall eat this bread and drink this chalice, ye shall show the death of the Lord till He come!
O Lord, is it possible? Is such Thy dying gift? Yes, we too shall be Thy guests. Blessed be Thy holy name! This very morning we have gathered at Thy Banquet. Thou hast fed us as Thou didst feed Thy apostles and disciples, and Thou art still as truly, really, and substantially present here, as Thou wert that blessed night with Thy chosen ones in Jerusalem's upper room.

The Blessed Eucharist is a Memorial because it is the parting gift of our Lord to the apostles and to us. But it is also a Memorial because it contains our Lord as the Victim of the Cross; it perpetuates Him, as it were, in that state. How does it do this? We shall have an opportunity of studying this more profoundly when later we consider the Blessed Eucharist as a Sacrifice. For the present, let us dwell upon one or two ways in which it perpetuates amongst us the Victim of the Cross.

First of all, that Victim was silent. It had been prophesied of Him: "He shall be dumb as a lamb before His shearers and He shall not open His mouth." He was reviled, but He did not revile; He suffered, but He threatened not; He was cursed and blasphemed, but He cursed not His guilty blasphemers. And when He was dead, His ears did not hear the wails of His Mother and of the women, His eyes did not see the tears of the dear ones around Him; a corpse feels not, hears not, speaks not. Such is the state of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. He speaks not. Of course, no one doubts that He could speak miraculously, if He chose, but day and night there reigns perpetual silence in and about His tabernacle. He never breaks the stillness around His altar throne.

In many a church and chapel He remains a whole day, sometimes a whole week without receiving the homage of a single heart, but He utters no complaint. In some churches, let us blush to acknowledge it, He is neglected, His tabernacle is enveloped in dust, yet no murmur falls from His sacred lips. He sees His children frivolous and irreverent even during the celebration of the divine mysteries, still He does not rebuke them. He beholds some before His very face polluting their souls with mortal sin, but not a word of indignation escapes Him. The unworthy communicant approaches, opens his sacrilegious lips, receives Him and hands Him over to the demons of sin in his Judas-like soul: but Jesus is silent, except perhaps for a whisper of reproach breathed to that conscience stained with the infamous crime committed against His patient, long-suffering Lord.

It is night; all is peaceful in the church ; the little lamp alone sends a few trembling rays of light into the dark aisles. Suddenly the gates of the church are forced asunder by lawless, ungodly men. The tabernacle door is ruthlessly opened, the ciborium seized, and He is made a mockery of, He is cast upon the floor, He may be trampled upon amid diabolical laughter, and then He is left alone to be wept over in anguish by His angels, His priests and His people: but He is silent, for He is none other than the Christ who died on Calvary, the ancient Victim of the Cross.

Again, as man Jesus was, until His Passion, the most attractive and the most beautiful of the children of men. But behold Him on the cross, behold Him dead in the arms of His weeping Mother. All His beauty has departed, the light has vanished from His sacred brow. Was ever a body bruised and rent as His? His face is disfigured with welts and blots of clotted blood, ashy, pale and haggard beyond description because of the terrible agony He has endured. His whole body is disfigured by cruel blows, by piteous falls, by lash and scourge, by hunger and thirst, and by the sharp wind blowing that day over the Mount of Sacrifice. The words of the Prophet Isaias have found their fulfillment:
There is no beauty or comeliness in Him, and we have seen Him, and there was no sightliness in Him that we should desire Him. [...] He was despised and the most abject of men.
Poor, outraged Jesus! Now glance at the Blessed Eucharist and behold Him there. Where is His beauty? Where His strength? Where His awful majesty? Where the splendor of His glory? He is under the species so small that I carry them daily in my hand. He is so concealed that He does not show the form of a human being. At the foot of the cross in the arms of Mary, we do not see His divinity, we see at least His body, mangled, horribly disfigured, it is true, still it is His body. But here He cannot be seen at all. We perceive a little white veil, nothing more. Faith alone has power to penetrate the folds of that veil. O silent Dweller of the tabernacle, Thou art indeed a hidden God, Thou art here, more than ever, the Victim of the Cross!

My dear friends, when we look at the Blessed Sacrament, let us recall that pathetic word of our Lord, "Remember Me!" Let us reflect that it is a Memorial of the greatest sorrow men ever witnessed, a Memorial of the greatest pain a creature on earth ever endured, a Memorial of the tenderest, most faithful, most unselfish, most heroic love the world shall ever know the last gift of a Heart that fears to be forgotten. Oh, yes! Lord, we will remember Thee!
May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, and my hand wither and rot away, if I should ever forget Thee!

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Church of the Late First Century: Liturgy and Ritual

Reading N°16 in the History of the Catholic Church

 by
 Fr. Fernand Mourret, S.S.

The Doctrine of the Twelve Apostles supplies information on the liturgy of the late first century which is no less interesting than that on the hierarchy. The Christian's life is described as a life of prayer. He must pray at least three times a day.[1] From other sources, we know that the hours for prayer were the third, the sixth, and the ninth,[2] i.e., nine o'clock in the morning, noon, and three o'clock in the afternoon. The Christian's attitude at prayer was usually that of the orant, standing, bareheaded, with hands raised to the level of the shoulders. The Jews ordinarily prayed with their head covered. Slaves were not permitted to uncover their head, but St. Paul directed Christians to pray bare-headed, like free men.

Outside the fixed times of prayer, the Christians were urged "to seek daily the presence of the saints (i. e, other Christians, their brethren), that they might find rest in their words,"[3] and to "be frequently gathered together seeking the things which are profitable for their souls."[4] On Sunday, the Lord's Day, they are to confess their sins, be reconciled with their brethren if there have been any quarrels between them, and to offer the sacrifice.[5]

The prayer formulas mentioned in the Didache are the Lord's Prayer and the prayers accompanying the reception of the Sacraments of Baptism and the Holy Eucharist. The Lord's Prayer is quoted verbatim, along with the following doxology: "For Thine is the power and the glory for ever,"[6] a doxology that recalls the formula in Paralipomenon: "Thine, Jehovah, is greatness, power and majesty, victory and magnificence."[7]

The Baptism of the Neophytes
Masaccio (1401-1428)
Brief but exact information is given about Baptism. Whoever is to be baptized prepares himself by a day or two of fasting.[8] First, he must be taught all that he is to believe.[9] He will be brought to some body of running water - spring, brook, or river[10] - because running water, being fresher and purer than stagnant water, is a better symbol of the regenerating and refreshing action of the Sacrament. If living water is not to be had, other water may be used that has been gathered in some receptacle; in this case the water is poured three times on the head of the person to be baptized, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."[11] This is the earliest mention we have of baptism by pouring. This method which, as we have already stated, must have been employed in the beginning by the Apostles on various occasions and by way of exception, later disappeared from the current practice of the Church in consequence of the regular building of baptismal pools, which happened wherever Christian communities gathered together and where baptism by immersion was practiced.[12] Baptism by pouring, used only for sick people, was no longer administered except in case of absolute necessity.

It has been remarked how carefully the Doctrine of the Apostles enumerates sins;[13] it even arranges them in two lists, which, after a fashion, might be considered early examinations of conscience.[14] It clearly affirms that sins can be forgiven.[15] We know also that in Antioch, at the beginning of the second century, sinners could obtain remission of their faults by applying to the bishop.[16] The self-accusation of sins, spoken of in the Didache,[17] may not have been a sacramental, but a simple ritualistic confession, similar to that which the Jews used to make to one another in their synagogues.[18]


Agape Banquet
from a fresco in the Catecombs of Ss. Mercellinus and Petrus

Likewise, it is not sure that chapters 9 and 10, containing thanksgiving prayers with regard to a mysterious meal, refer to the Eucharist. The meal alluded to may have been the purified and Christianized continuation of the Kiddush, or Jewish religious meal, and the invocations preceding and following it may be regarded as something like our blessing or grace before and after meals.[19] In chapter 14, however, the mention of the Eucharist is beyond doubt.
On the Lord's Day come together, break bread and hold Eucharist [give thanks], after confessing your transgressions, that your offering may be pure; but let none who has a quarrel with his fellow join in your meeting until they be reconciled, that your sacrifice be not defiled. For this is that which was spoken by the Lord, "In every place and time offer me a pure sacrifice, for I am a great king," saith the Lord, "and my name is wonderful among the heathen." Appoint, therefore, for yourselves bishops and deacons worthy of the Lord.[20]
There has been much insistence upon the identity of the Lord's sacrifice (θυσία) with that of Malachias, and thereby the comparison of the Lord's sacrifice with the Old Testament sacrifices. This, however, leaves no doubt as to the agreement of chapter 14 with the Apostolic and universal Eucharist of the Lord.[21] That is indeed the "breaking of bread," the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, spoken of by St. Paul and St. Justin.[22]

True, the words of institution, the words of consecration, are not mentioned. It is not explicitly said that the bread and wine are the body and blood of Christ, as was later specified in the paraphrase given of this passage in the Apostolic Constitutions. But we should not forget that the Didache was a manual of piety for the use of the ordinary Christian, and not a ritual.[23] Moreover, if we consider the time and place of this book's composition, after Christianity's first contact with the Greco-Roman world, which was so avid of mysteries and so accustomed to look upon Oriental ceremonies as curious symbols, we are not surprised that the Christians were fearful of handing over the holiest of their mysteries to the extremely fanciful and perchance insulting interpretations of the pagans. Herein we find one of the circumstances that best explain the spontaneous origin of the "law of the secret," which did not rest on any written text, but upon a custom that was equivalent to a law and that assuredly had a solid justification. "The way of the Eucharistic prayers as given in the Didache - by suppressing the formulas most closely connected with the mysteries - was in accord with the rule known as the discipline of the secret."[24]

Footnotes


[1] Didache, VIII, 3.
[2] Clement of Alexandria, Stromata, VII, 7.
[3] Didache IV, 2.
[4] Ibidem, XVI, 2.
[5] Ibidem, XIV, 1 f.
[6] Ibidem, VIII, 2.
[7] 1 Par. 29:11.
[8] Didache, VII, 4.
[9] Ibidem, VII, 1.
[10] Ibidem.
[11] Ibidem, VII, 3.
[12] De Rossi, Bullettino di archeologia cristiana, 1886, p. 19.
[13] Didache, Ch. 1-5.
[14] Ibidem, Ch. 5.
[15] Ibidem, XI, 7.
[16] St. Ignatius, Ad Phil., Ch. 8.
[17] Didache, IV, 14; XIV, 1.
[18] Buxtorf, Synagoga judaica, chap. 20.. Cf. Morin, De poenitentia, Bk. 4, Ch. 2, N° 21 f. Such, at least, is the view of several eminent Catholic scholars, e. g., Funk, Patres apostolici, I, 14, 32.
[19] Batiffol (Études d'histoire et de théologie positive, pp. 71-78), Cagin (L'Eucharistie, p. 254), Duchesne (Bull. crit., 1884, p. 385) and Ladeuze (Revue de l'Orient chrétien, 1902, pp. 339-399) think that there is question here of both the Agape and the Eucharist. The question of the Agape is of considerable apologetic importance. Most Rationalists hold that originally the Eucharistic supper was merely an ordinary meal which, after long evolution, became divided into two distinct ceremonies: the Eucharist and the Agape. Among the noteworthy books on this subject, is that of Baumgartner, Eucharistie und Agape im Urchristentum. The learned author cites and minutely analyzes a vast number of texts, grouped according to the countries whose practice they show. Then he states the following conclusions: In the first century we find, in all Christian centers that we know of, institutions that are perceptibly identical with regard to the Agape and the Eucharist. On Sundays, early in the morning or sometimes about midnight - the hour of the Lord's Resurrection - the Christians met together to celebrate the Eucharist. This latter is connected with religious instruction and includes essentially the prayer of thanksgiving pronounced by the bishop over the bread and wine; the people take part in this liturgical function by saying the Amen and by receiving Communion. Sunday evening, the Christians, following an old Jewish custom, take their meal in common, and this image of their brotherly love is also an occasion for them to refresh and succour their needy brethren: it is the Agape, a meal sanctified by prayer and by the exercise of the charismata of tongues and of prophecy; the celebration of the Eucharist was never connected with this evening meal, but, according to St. Paul (1 Cor. 11), the Agape was an image of the great love which Christ showed to His disciples at the Last Supper. "Baumgartner's work," says Vanhalst (Revue d'histoire ecclés., 1911, p. 721), "forms a solid defense of the Roman conception of the Eucharist. It is of genuine scientific value, harmonizing with the dogmatic conceptions of Catholic tradition." Yet, on several points, particularly on the subject of the Jewish prayers recited before the meal, Baumgartner's study should be supplemented by that of Mangenot, "Les soi-disant antécédents juifs dl l'Eucharistie," in the Revue du clergé français, 1909, PP. 385 ff., and by that of Batiffol, "Nouvelles études documentaires sur la sainte Eucharistie" in the Revue au clergé français, LX, 513.
[20] Didache, XIV, 1-3; XV, 1.
[21] Cagin, op. cit., p. 255.
[22] We do not understand how Rauschen (Eucharistie und Bussakrament in den ersten 6 Jahrhunderten der Kirche, p. 2) can say that one may hardly appeal to the Didache in favor of the Real Presence. If that text were isolated, doubtless it would be obscure; but when compared with so many other Apostolic, patristic, and archeological texts, its interpretation leaves no doubt.
[23] The prayer formulas given by the Didache are, moreover, only indications. We know that, in those early years, the celebrant himself improvised prayers. That practice continued until the fourth and even the fifth century. See Cagin, Te Deum ou lllatio, p. 342, and Souben, Le Canon primitif de la messe, p. 12.
[24] De Rossi, Bullettino di archeol. crist., 1886, p. 23.

***

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Tuesday, May 19, 2015

On Sorrow

If you're connected to any form of social media, chances are good that you're being barraged with exhortations to "be a joyful witness" and to "transmit joy and hope to others." It would seem that there's nothing more worthy of contempt these days than giving the appearance of being a "sad Christian," an "old maid," or a "sourpuss," to use a few choice insults which have been directed at faithful Catholics over the past few years. One gets the distinct impression that, no matter what you do, all will be forgiven as long as you do it with a smile.

Well, I call phooey

Personally, I'm tired of the insinuation that I'm a bad Catholic if I'm not glad-handing everyone I meet. Why not let prospective converts know the truth from the get-go?

Being Catholic is not always easy. It's not always fun, either. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices that hurt. Sometimes those sacrifices are made for you. Sometimes you understand why, and sometimes you don't. But, as a Catholic, you can be sad without losing hope; you can experience sorrow without falling into despair. The great strength of Catholicism is not that it eliminates suffering, but that it gives our suffering meaning.

There's an old woman who sits, always alone, a few pews ahead of me at church. She never speaks to anyone. She knows all the hymns by heart. And she weeps bitterly through the whole Mass.

When I see her return to her place after having received Our Lord, her eyes are puffy and bloodshot, her nose red and shiny. Before the ciborium is placed back in the tabernacle, she has moved on to her second handkerchief, the first having been utterly demolished during the consecration.

After Mass, she kneels and sobs, sits and sobs, blows her nose a last time, collects her things, and then rises to leave. She always looks exhausted, like she has just returned from the bedside of a terminally ill loved one. There is a hint of a smile on her lips, but the smile is neither for me nor for the other parishioners, with whom she doesn't even try to make eye contact. She's smiling for Our Lord, who is in her heart.

She might be old and wrinkled, but at that moment, she's truly beautiful, positively glowing with love of God. And I love her for it.

If you are a "sad" Catholic, take heart, gentle reader: you're in good company.

Mater Dolorosa, ora pro nobis!


Does Richard Dawkins Exist?

Regular readers will have noticed that things around here have taken a decidedly philosophical turn as of late. I've written several longish articles (see here, here, herehere and here) which I sincerely hope have been able to spark in you an interest in our rich Catholic philosophical heritage. Now, I realize that engaging in the study of philosophy can be a somewhat daunting task, and I'm still looking for ways to make the treasures of Catholic philosophy more readily accessible to those of you whose resources in time and energy may be limited. In the meantime, I would like to keep the flame burning by presenting you with a talk delivered earlier this year by Dr. Dennis Bonnette of the Aquinas School of Philosophy with the delightfully cheeky title Does Richard Dawkins Exist? It's just over an hour long, and it's best enjoyed in one sitting, so try to find some undisturbed time to take it in.

The presentation itself is a very accessible introduction to Aristotelian-Thomist metaphysics. Dr. Bonnette goes about his task by contrasting the Theistic Hylomorphism of the Thomist school with the dominant scientistic philosophy of the day, i.e. Atheistic Materialism. For those of you engaged in apologetics, this video is sure to whet your appetite for more substantial portions. A brief outline of the talk is as follows:

  • Introduction (0:42-2:06)
  • The Case for Atheistic Materialism (2:06-25:10)
  • The Response of Theistic Hylomorphism (25:10-59:20)
  • Conclusion (59:20-1:02:20)



If you enjoyed the video, and would like more of the same, please let me know in the comments section.

Monday, May 18, 2015

In hoc signo perturbes

This post offers only a series of images, and I invite you, gentle reader, to peruse them at your leisure (the images can be viewed in a larger format by clicking on them). I'm not drawing any conclusions from this, and it's not meant to tempt you to wild speculation, either. It's just a starting point for a potentially interesting conversation, either here or elsewhere. Those who feel inspired to research the images further are welcome to add their own insights in the comments section.

Pope Francis

Cardinal Óscar Andrés Rodríguez Maradiaga

Archbishop Victor Manuel Fernández

Cardinal Chibly Langois

Archbishop Ludwig Schick

Bishop Christopher J. Coyne

Bishop Wayne Kirkpatrick

Bishop Edward Scharfenberger

Bishop Myron J. Cotta
Bishop Jaime Soto

Bishop Pierre Nguyên Van Kham

Bishop Jose Luis Lacunza Maestrojuan

Bishop Gabino Zavala (Ret.)*

Bishop David O'Connell

Bishop Luc Van Looy

Bishop Kevin Doran

Bishop Justin Mulenga

Bishop John Conway McNabb

Bishop Moses Hamungole

Bishops Robert Barron, Michael G. O’Connell and Joseph V. Brennan

Bishop Robert Barron
(just making sure)

Newly Recognized Chinese Bishops at Youth Synod 2018

*Note: Bishop Zavala resigned in 2012 after it was discovered that he had two children. The picture is from before his resignation, and is the earliest confirmed sighting thus far. Interesting, no?