Talk for RCIA this Sunday
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_KXHqjxpwk1ZB7fDcfGMJfnVneCUN02EAftZx3-eNu0/edit?usp=sharing
As an example of flawed conscience, I submit the example of one Greg Williams, former radio host of KTCK (1310AM The Ticket in Dallas). Back in 2005 he told a story on the radio about his experience in rehab. He had voluntarily checked himself in due to a Vicodin addition during the 2004-2005 holiday break. A portion of the story can be heard here.
This audio is from the second segment of that talk. In the first segment, he mentioned an interesting fact: all the staff in that rehab clinic were trained to avoid looking at their patients in the eye. The patients were obviously in pain and if the staff looked them in the eye, they might take pity on them and might do something to ease the pain. It's understandable that this clinic had drugs or alcohol on hand: the addicts probably had it on them when they came in. So it's possible people could squirrel it away and, in a misguided sense of compassion, give the patients something to take the edge off. Conscience tells us to help, but it doesn't tell us the best way, or even the right way.
Conscience does not good unless it's formed by something outside of ourselves. Something trustworthy and well-founded.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Thoughts about the Rites of Initiation in RCIA
My talk from yesterday's retreat
I read it for my own benefit as much as anyone else's. The story of Elijah is about as personal as any I can think of. I pray for refreshment almost every day.
In fact, I've been thinking about leaving RCIA for more than a year because I don't know if I can keep going. Work isn't getting any easier, and I'm not getting any younger and there are other considerations that I don't want to get into in a semi-public forum (assuming anyone ever reads these posts).
I've been looking for a sign, and our new pastor starts on March 1, so maybe that will be it. With God's grace, I can keep going. But if He withdraws His grace because it's time for me to do something else, I certainly can't do it on my own.
My Most Successful Lent
I haven't decided what to do for Lent this year. Actually, work has been grinding me down to the fine powder and I'm making a long car trip in a week, so between those two thing, I'm not sure what more penance I can do.
But I was reminded this morning of what I did last year and it was very successful.
There was a certain Religious Sister who works for the diocese who had taught a class I attended who said a series of things that really upset me. It would be uncharitable for me to dwell on them here, but they were straight out of the 1970's felt-banner era and I was surprised that such generational and cultural biases still existed in the 21st century.
And the more I thought about it, it really made me mad. I was mad at her, I was mad at the people in her religious order, I was mad at the people who hired her for to teach this class, I was mad at the people who hired them, and I was mad at the local Ordinary. In short, I was pretty mad and frustrated. I had been promised that this generation was passing and there'd be a new, orthodox group to take their place Real Soon Now(TM).
I chewed on that anger and nurtured it for several years.
I couldn't remember her name, but I knew that she was some bigwig with the diocese religious order ... organization or whatever it's called. I had seen her picture on a poster for that organization on the day that she was teaching the class. A week or so before Lent last year, I was walking around the parish and -- lo and behold! -- that very poster was hanging on the wall with that very Sister's smiling face beaming at me. In a flash of inspiration, I took a picture of it on my phone.
Soon, it occurred to me to pray for her. I'm not one for symbolic gestures -- I've had too much pop psychology at corporate training events to take it seriously -- but I resolved that I would pray for her every day during Lent, and on Easter I would erase her picture from my phone with the idea that this would erase the anger from my heart. Since she was all about the NewChurch, I decided that an Our Father, a Hail Mary and St Michael Prayer would be appropriate.
So every day in Lent, I prayed those three prayers for her and for catechists in the diocese, and for those who run that program including the bishop. That's a lot of work for three little prayers. But I did it every day. And on Easter I deleted her picture.
I wish I could say there was a huge cathartic release when I did, but it wasn't like that. The first week of Lent I felt no difference at all. I don't know if there was a single point during Lent where she didn't bother me anymore, but by Holy Week, I was pretty much over her. It did feel good to delete her picture, but I can't really explain why. I was actually kind of embarrassed by the gesture, and embarrassed that it was necessary. Maybe I was just happy that it was over.
Had I written this post before I did that I'd have spent several paragraphs trashing the woman, including what she said, what she wore and anything else I can think of. Now, that doesn't seem necessary.
I don't expect this to work for everyone. People in a continuing relationship wouldn't be able to symbolically delete other people from their lives: new provocations would require them to start over continuously. But it worked in this case.
But I was reminded this morning of what I did last year and it was very successful.
There was a certain Religious Sister who works for the diocese who had taught a class I attended who said a series of things that really upset me. It would be uncharitable for me to dwell on them here, but they were straight out of the 1970's felt-banner era and I was surprised that such generational and cultural biases still existed in the 21st century.
And the more I thought about it, it really made me mad. I was mad at her, I was mad at the people in her religious order, I was mad at the people who hired her for to teach this class, I was mad at the people who hired them, and I was mad at the local Ordinary. In short, I was pretty mad and frustrated. I had been promised that this generation was passing and there'd be a new, orthodox group to take their place Real Soon Now(TM).
I chewed on that anger and nurtured it for several years.
I couldn't remember her name, but I knew that she was some bigwig with the diocese religious order ... organization or whatever it's called. I had seen her picture on a poster for that organization on the day that she was teaching the class. A week or so before Lent last year, I was walking around the parish and -- lo and behold! -- that very poster was hanging on the wall with that very Sister's smiling face beaming at me. In a flash of inspiration, I took a picture of it on my phone.
Soon, it occurred to me to pray for her. I'm not one for symbolic gestures -- I've had too much pop psychology at corporate training events to take it seriously -- but I resolved that I would pray for her every day during Lent, and on Easter I would erase her picture from my phone with the idea that this would erase the anger from my heart. Since she was all about the NewChurch, I decided that an Our Father, a Hail Mary and St Michael Prayer would be appropriate.
So every day in Lent, I prayed those three prayers for her and for catechists in the diocese, and for those who run that program including the bishop. That's a lot of work for three little prayers. But I did it every day. And on Easter I deleted her picture.
I wish I could say there was a huge cathartic release when I did, but it wasn't like that. The first week of Lent I felt no difference at all. I don't know if there was a single point during Lent where she didn't bother me anymore, but by Holy Week, I was pretty much over her. It did feel good to delete her picture, but I can't really explain why. I was actually kind of embarrassed by the gesture, and embarrassed that it was necessary. Maybe I was just happy that it was over.
Had I written this post before I did that I'd have spent several paragraphs trashing the woman, including what she said, what she wore and anything else I can think of. Now, that doesn't seem necessary.
I don't expect this to work for everyone. People in a continuing relationship wouldn't be able to symbolically delete other people from their lives: new provocations would require them to start over continuously. But it worked in this case.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Interesting facet of Benedictine Spirtuality
http://corbiniansbear.blogspot.com/2016/01/harbinger-of-lent.html
Key part
Benedictine Oblates ... must submit their "Bona Opera" proposals to the abbot. This is according to Chapter 49 of the Rule of St. Benedict.
I have frequently heard of people making known their lenten penances. I have done it myself often, as a way to holding myself accountable. If no one knows what I'm giving up, then no one knows if I'm cheating. It did occur to me that publicizing what I'm giving up could be a form of prideful boasting, but it never occurred to me that one would get permission for his penance.
Key part
Benedictine Oblates ... must submit their "Bona Opera" proposals to the abbot. This is according to Chapter 49 of the Rule of St. Benedict.
Everyone should, however, make known to the abbot what he intends to do, since it ought to be done with his prayer and approval. Whatever is undertaken without the permission of the spiritual father, will be reckoned as presumption and vainglory, not deserving of reward. Therefore everything must be done with abbot's approval.The reason St. Benedict required monks to receive approval for anything not required by the Rule is that he had no doubt seen how some monks would not wisely limit extra devotions or penance. Worse, what is supposed to be an offering to God can instead become an occasion for pride. The devil is subtle. There are many monitory tales of such deception.
I have frequently heard of people making known their lenten penances. I have done it myself often, as a way to holding myself accountable. If no one knows what I'm giving up, then no one knows if I'm cheating. It did occur to me that publicizing what I'm giving up could be a form of prideful boasting, but it never occurred to me that one would get permission for his penance.
It just goes to show the totality of life in a monastic community, even for the third-order members.
(note, Corbinian's Bear is a strictly anonymous blog. The author identifies himself as The Bear in honor of St Corbinian's bear and identifies himself as a retired lawyer but other than that strictly refers to himself is ursine terms to preserve his anonymity. It's part of his schtick)
Monday, January 25, 2016
Father Longenecker on Church Shopping
Been thinking about this lately, for some reason.
Father Longenecker used to run a number of posts by his 'alter egos'. Mrs Brady was one of them.
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/mrs-brady-on-church-shopping.html
And then there was this post
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/church-shopping.html
Father Longenecker used to run a number of posts by his 'alter egos'. Mrs Brady was one of them.
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/mrs-brady-on-church-shopping.html
And then there was this post
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/standingonmyhead/2010/09/church-shopping.html
That being said. Sometimes you just got to go, but when you do you’d better agonize and pray over the decision, and when you find that new parish. You’d better stay put and learn stability. I know it will sound like heresy to some folks, but there is more to the spiritual life than fine liturgy. It’s called humility. Humility is very very hard.Indeed.
Humility is endless.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Eleven Cardinals Book
Before the recent synod on the family, Ignatius Press released "Eleven Cardinals Speak on Marriage and the Family". It's hard not to think of this as a sequel to the "Five Cardinals Book" that was released prior to 2014's synod on the family. One wonders what will happen prior to the next synod.
I didn't get the book right away because I was hoping that Ignatius would release a Kindle or iBooks edition. When I finally realized that wasn't going to happen the synod was halfway over and I resisted buying the book because I figured it'd be obsolete by the time the final report came out. After the synod was over, I didn't get it because I was getting tired of the constant discussion about marriage and things related to marriage (I am married. I am familiar with the subject. Perhaps there are other topics of interest?) But a month ago I ended up buying it, more to support my local Catholic bookstore than anything else.
It's a slim volume at 136 pages, including the preface by Winfried Aymans. Given that there are eleven authors, it's understandable that it's an uneven book. Mr Ayman's preface and the first chapter by Cardinal Caffara (Bolgna) are outstanding, and probably worth the price of the book. The second chapter by Cardinal Cleemis (Syro-Malankara) and the seventh chapter by Cardinal Onaiyeken (Abuja, Nigeria) are very interesting as the present how the Church's teaching on marriage is transmitted and received in different cultures, which I foolishly assumed as the point of these synods, not to regularize the decadent practices of the West. Then of course is Cardinal Sarah's contribution which is wonderful as always.
So I can't discourage people from getting this book. But I'm not sure I can whole-heartedly recommend it, either. My earlier misgivings persisted even as I read the better chapters. There's an odor of antiquity in the book. Most of the authors have "emeritus" in their titles and so it seems that their views are not necessarily reflective of the current people running dioceses around the world. Since the majority of the authors in this book are in no position to do anything practical or constructive with regards to Church teaching, it naturally leads one to think that that is the case in general. That the people in the Church at large that uphold traditional values are not in a position to do anything about it and, by extension, the majority of people who ARE in a position to do something are not inclined to uphold Church teaching. That's a completely fallacious argument, but I couldn't help getting that impression.
I suspect that Ignatius views this book as a minor contribution to the body of knowledge surrounding marriage which is why they didn't take the effort to make it available electronically.
I also have specific quibbles. Cardinal Eijk (Utrecht), Cardinal Meisner (emeritis, Cologne) and Cardinal Savino (Caracas) make the point explicitly that the Church is too timid in teaching the truth about marriage and sexuality. Cardinal Eijk actually uses the phrase "catechesis has been seriously neglected for half a century". I hear this all the time and it's true. But the fact that I hear it all the time also sets my antenna twitching and I've come to see this as a cheap applause line for conservative Catholics. It's the equivalent to a speaker warming up his audience with "I'm always very happy to come to (insert name of town). The people are so good looking and friendly!" It's used to get on the good side of your audience so they agree with everything else you way. It's a way of filling the space when you have nothing else to offer. It's treacle.
But what makes it offensive in this case is these people are the very ones who can do something about it. Cardinal Eijk make think catechesis has been poor in the last five decades, but he's been the archbishop of Utrecht since 2007 and a bishop since 1999. Cardinal Meisner was the archbishop of Cologne for twenty-five years. Cardinal Savino has been a bishop in Venezuela in various capacities for thirty-three years. These are not exactly helpless bystanders. I'd rather read less about their complaining about how things are in the Church and more about they've done to fix the problems.
The other quibble is related to a pet peeve of mine, so probably isn't valid for everyone. The authors mention that Vatican II is the key to a correct understanding of the family, largely through the interpretive lens of Pope St John Paul II at his Apostolic Exhortation Familiaris Conosorto. Yet it also appears in the pages that many of the problems are caused by a misunderstanding of Vatican II. This is more treacle. It's hard to imagine getting published a a Catholic author without invoking Vatican II. It wears me out. I'm left with the conclusion that Vatican II has basically the same function as alcohol in the minds of many.
So I remain conflicted about the book. There are definitely gems contained within it and I think it's a good reference on the subject. It's worth the price and it's worth the space on your bookshelf if you're a catechist or evangelist of any sort. At least today. I remain cautious about it's shelf life. I still worry that Pope Francis will issue his own apostolic exhortation and render much of the argumentation in this book obsolete. I don't think he'll exactly overturn John Paul II, but ... well, actually I just don't know what to expect. He could uphold Church teaching, but for a completely different reason than is presented by these authors. He could dismiss them as pharisees and symptoms of a throw-away culture and antithetical to mercy, yet not go so far as to say their conclusions are wrong. Who knows?
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Some thoughts on the Epiphay
This is something I wrote for RCIA back in 2012. As I read it now, I'm a bit embarrassed at some of the wooden language. I have another angle on the Epiphany that I might get out this week, but here this is, anyway.
--------------------------------------
Opening Prayer
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
for he has come to his people and brought about their redemption.
He has raised up the sign of salvation
in the house of his servant David,
as he promised through the mouth of the holy ones,
his prophets through the ages:
to rescue us from our enemies
and all who hate us,
to take pity on our fathers,
to remember his holy covenant
and the oath he swore to Abraham our father,
that he would give himself to us,
that we could serve him without fear
– freed from the hands of our enemies –
in uprightness and holiness before him,
for all of our days.
Gospel: Matthew 2:1-12.
When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, "Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage." When King Herod heard this, he was greatly troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.
Assembling all the chief priests and the scribes of the people, He inquired of them where the Christ was to be born. They said to him, "In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it has been written through the prophet: And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; since from you shall come a ruler, who is to shepherd my people Israel."
Then Herod called the magi secretly and ascertained from them the time of the star's appearance. He sent them to Bethlehem and said, "Go and search diligently for the child. When you have found him, bring me word, that I too may go and do him homage."
After their audience with the king they set out. And behold, the star that they had seen at its rising preceded them, until it came and stopped over the place where the child was. They were overjoyed at seeing the star, and on entering the house they saw the child with Mary his mother. They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they departed for their country by another way.
In the Gospel, there seem to be three different reactions to Jesus’ birth. Herod was suspicious of Jesus and antagonistic towards Him, the rest of Jerusalem was indifferent and the Magi were open to Jesus.
Herod the Great was a bad guy. Note he and his grandson, Herod Agrippa I, were called “King of the Jews” because they ruled over Judea on behalf of the Romans (as “client kings”). He jealously clung to power, to the extent of killing three of his own children and a number of his wives who he saw as overly ambitious. Herod’s vainglory was such that when he was near death, he was concerned that no one would mourn his death, so he called a number of famous and respected people to Jerusalem and ordered that when he died, these also should be killed, so that his death would bring sorrow to the land, one way or another. He most certainly would have been alarmed about the arrival of a new “King of the Jews”.
Now what about the rest of Jerusalem. The Gospel says that the rest of Jerusalem was “troubled” about the arrival of the Magi. There is a possibility that they were worried for the safety of Jesus, given Herod’s volatile nature, but that doesn’t seem likely. The Gospel is incomplete so we don’t know if the chief priests and elders were aware of the star that the Magi were following, if it was visible to them, if they saw it but didn’t notice it, or if they saw it and considered what it might mean but dismissed it as unimportant. However, the Gospel strongly implies that chief priests and elders were dull to the possibility of the birth of the Messiah because it’s apparent that they didn’t travel with the Magi to search for His birthplace. Herod instructed the Magi to bring back the location of the child, which he wouldn’t have needed to do if some of his own people had gone with them. Bethlehem is about 5 miles away from Jerusalem. They couldn’t be bothered to go? To see if the Messiah is really there, or if the Magi were crazy?
So why would the rest of Jerusalem be “troubled” over the coming of the Messiah? John Chrysostom (one of the Fathers of the Church) says that they were worried about what kind of world the new king would usher in. He quotes a verse from the Septuagint version of Isaiah 9:5-6 They would be glad, if they had been burnt with fire; for unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given .
Perhaps the political situation in Jerusalem was favorable and the Jewish elders were not too keen to have things thrown into chaos again. The Sadducees and Pharisees enjoyed a certain status in Jewish life, though they didn’t much care for each other. Each group probably thought that God was on their side, and would have been happy for the Messiah to come and smite the other side. But until that time, they seemed to have reached a detente with each other and enjoyed the favor of society and the establishment. Herod, for all this faults, was politically astute and took care of the Jewish people. He rebuilt the temple and some of his wives and sons even converted to Judaism. But for whatever reason, it seems that Jerusalem was not ready for Jesus.
The Magi, on the other hand were open to God’s call. They saw a sign and followed it to see where it lead, and it lead them to God. The gifts of the Magi are often commented on: gold, for a king; incense for a God; myrrh for a man, who will die. Perhaps they understood the mission of Jesus. Perhaps they knew about Herod and suspected that Herod would seek to eliminate a rival to his thrown.
Saint Josemaria Escriva makes a good point about the Magi: God sent them a sign while they were doing what they do. The Magi watched the stars, so God sent them a star. Similarly, he called Peter, James and John while they were fishing and Matthew while he was collecting taxes. He even called Paul while he was persecuting Christians!
It may be helpful to consider at this point the prologue to John’s Gospel (John 1:10-11). “He was in the world... and the world knew Him not. He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.”
So this is the life of Jesus. At Jesus’ birth and at His death we have people who don’t see God and people who do. We have Roman officialdom (represented by Herod at the birth and Pilate at the Passion) who are thinking only in earthly terms. They can’t be said to reject Jesus’ Divinity: it doesn’t even register with them. It’s not even part of their world view. It is completely alien to them, to the point that their minds can’t even recognize that it’s there. On the other hand we have the Jewish authorities of the day, who are expecting something, but not this. They expect a king, not a pauper. They don’t expect His arrival to be noticed first by Gentiles. They don’t expect his apparent powerlessness. They are similar to, but not quite the same as the Romans. Jesus is so different from what they expect that they are unable to see Him. Even the miracles that Jesus performs are not enough to overcome this. We all know of circumstances where we’re looking closely for something, but in the wrong place. What we’re looking for may be in plain sight, but it’s invisible to us because we’re looking someplace else. Finally, the gentiles, the outsiders, are portrayed as responding to God. Not having any expectations about God, they are able to receive God as He is.
Note something else about the Magi: they first sought a King in the capital city: the normal place that you’d expect to find a king. And they find their King, but only after consulting with the Jewish leaders. Jewish leaders who apparently weren’t too interested in finding the King themselves. When God chose Abraham and his descendants to be the chosen people He did so so that the Jewish people would lead all nations to God, as is mentioned in the Psalm today. And here’s an example of the Jewish people leading gentiles to God, however unwittingly. There’s a popular interpretation in the writings of the Fathers of the Church that the star disappeared from the Magi when they got to Jerusalem, forcing them to consult with the leaders there. It was God’s will that people should be lead to God by other people. Today we have the Church filling that role: bringing God to the people and people to God.
Closing prayer
Almighty, ever-living God,
when Christ was baptized in the river Jordan
the Holy Spirit came upon him
and your voice proclaimed from heaven, ‘This is my beloved Son.’
Grant that we,
who by water and the Holy Spirit are your adopted children,
may continue steadfast in your love.
[We make our prayer] through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God for ever and ever.
Amen.
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