Friday, May 28, 2010

The Ave Maria - Latin Lesson #2

In our last Latin Lesson, we learned The Sign of The Cross, with which we begin all things. Now, since we can only access our Savior Jesus Christ through his adorable Mother Mary, the Hail Mary or Ave Maria is our subject. The prayer runs thus:

Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen

You can get a rather laughable, yet serviceable, pronunciation here.

Pointing out the obvious is always a good place to start, and thus Ave means "hail" and Maria is Mary in the romance languages. Gratia means "grace". The phrase "ex gratia" is used for legal services which are provided free of charge, and literally translates "by favor" or "out of kindness". This is where we get our word gratuity from (a tip), which is a further payment beyond the required done out of kindness, at least in theory. Plena is where we get the "full of". The word plenary, which is applied to indulgences which grant a full remission of temporal punishment (as opposed to partial) comes from this Latin word. Tecum is two words combined: te and cum. Te means "you" and cum means "with". That shouldn't be too hard for any scholar of a romance language (Spanish especially).

With the next sentence we get into some good grammar. Not that we have "benedicta tu in mulieribus" and then "benedictus fructus ventris tui". The difference is in who they are talking about! The -a is applied to Mary, because she is a woman, thus she gets the feminine ending (benedicta, -us, -um is a routine first declension adjective). The -us is masculine, and thus Jesus gets it. Don't be confused by the -us you think you see in Mary's like in mulieribus. It is actually -ibus, which is in fact feminie, fitting for the embodiment of all femininity. Having a beginning understanding of Latin grammar can get you a long ways, but if you don't get this, it doesn't matter. You can still pray in Latin, and understand what you are praying!

With that out of the way, benedictus is blessed (like our Holy Father Pope Benedict), and fructus is fruit. Ventris means "womb" here, but can mean stomach or belly in the context of eating. A woman with children is called a venter in English.

Mater
means mother, like alma mater, which means "nourishing mother" (a proper title for The Mother of God!). Dei is like God, like "deify". Ora (from the first conjugation orare) is a verb meaning "to pray" here, though also to speak other places. Thus we have "to orate". Pro nobis means for us, which again is rather standard for a romance language. Peccatoribus means sinners. I don't know of any English words that come from this, though the Internet tells me peccatophobia is the fear of making mistakes. Peccatoribus is used famously in the Tridintine Mass (the Pre-Vatican II Mass), where the priest says aloud "nobis quoque peccatoribus" surrounded by silence on either side. The phrase means "and also us sinners".

Nunc is "now". Mortis is "death", as in mortuary. And again nostrae, like nobis is the first person plural.

Orate Fratres! (Pray brethren)

"May God Reward You"

Christianity was founded by beggars. And yet, we are sometimes alarmed at the flagrant begging of our fellow Christians. Some examples:

The renowned Fr. Z at "What Does The Prayer Really Say?" has an Amazon wish list and regularly reports that "so and so from such and such" bought him a book, or an expensive can of tomatoes, or what have you. He also has an extensive collection of bird feeders which are filled with donated money. Now, nobody quite knows what Fr. Z does (he is often on a plane, and hangs out with plenty of big hitters at the Vatican), but we can assume that the Church he serves hardly leaves him destitute.

J.P. Sonnen, over at Orbis Catholicus Secundus (there was a primus prior...) has a "Donate" button on the side of his blog. This is perhaps understandable: he is a student at the Angelicum as well as a father of a few young children. It's understandable that he doesn't have the money for the camera that takes the Catholic eye-candy pictures I (and readers all over the world) fawn over.

And then there are the truly destitute: the religious who are the warriors and support of the Church. Every order that takes vows of poverty (almost all) exists by the good will of others and their own hard work. The Carmelite Monks in Wyoming, men after my own heart, live off of the donations of others, and even accept stocks, bonds and other securities! They supplement this income by roasting coffee. Buy some Mystic Monk coffee here.

The point of all this is that Catholics have no problem out and out begging. And why should they! Our Lord became human so that he could beg! Certainly nobody can encourage laziness or greed, and in the end it is prudence (perhaps the most illusive, yet most necessary of the virtues) which governs the matter.

But, lest it be thought that Catholic beggars stop there, I remind you that prayer, the beautifully free, infinitely valuable gift given to us by God is worth more than any worldly repayment. Thus Fr. Z reports, "As I mentioned several days ago, I will say Mass tomorrow, Friday in the Octave of Pentecost for those who follow the traditional calendar, for the intention of those benefactors who have sent donations and used the wish list. It is my duty and pleasure to pray for those who have been so supportive."

J.P Sonnen makes a point of assuring his readers that he prays for them (whether they donate or not) and also inserts the eminently Catholic phrase, "may God reward you". This phrase might alarm us. At the beautiful Church of St. Agnes in St. Paul Minnesota the almost militant crew of alter boys they have trained are instructed by a wall card in the sacristy to neatly hang up their cassock and surplice in the dignity of their vocation of alter boy. The message, which really reads rather harshly ends, "may God reward you". It seems almost cruel: chew out the young boys, and then guilt trip them with God's promises? No, that is not it at all! The line is simply a divine "thank you" - the benefactor is saying, "since I am powerless to thank you, being in the position of a beggar, I'll ask God to help you". The phrase is associated with religious communities first and foremost, especially Carmelite and Poor Clare women.

So, be assured that the Red Cardigan Society will continue to provide their services (if you can call them that!) free of charge, and we don't know how to put a donate button on the side of our blog, so that won't show up either. But next time you see a Christian all but begging for money, don't be alarmed. God will reward you.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Religious Life

Jesu et Maria sit nobis in via!

This summer, Eau Claire will be losing one of its most valuable and hidden treasures, St. Bede’s monastery. Benedictine sisters have lived and worked there for some time, and have been part of Eau Claire for even longer. They have been teachers primarily, and their lessons flowed from a life of prayer and close communion with each other and God. In their wooded retreat just beyond city limits, they lived quietly, observing the 1500 year old Benedictine way of life through vows of obedience, stability and devotion to the monastic way of life.

Sadly, this monastery, like many across the States, is suffering from a loss of vocations. The Benedictine nuns will be leaving Eau Claire and merging with their motherhouse in St. Joseph, MN. American soil seems particularly unfertile for new vocations. But such is life. As the oldest institution on the planet, the Catholic Church is familiar with the waxing and waning of devout populations. In the long run, Christ’s bride is unafraid. The Lord did, after all, promise that the Church built on Peter would not fail (Mt 16:18). The Church is only saddened that so many will not enjoy answering Christ’s call.

There are many different forms of religious life, but there are two sweeping categories that most fall into: the actives and the contemplatives. Active monks and nuns are those who have an “apostolate” or active ministry in the world. They might run a school like the St. Bede’s sisters, or a hospital, such as Sacred Heart Hospital, which used to be run by Franciscan nuns. Active religious work in the community during the day, but retreat into their “cloister” which is closed off from anyone who is not part of their monastery. There, they pray the Psalms in the Liturgy of the Hours and sleep, knowing they are safe in the palm of the Father.

Contemplative religious dedicate themselves wholly to prayer. They are often strictly cloistered, meaning they rarely, if ever, leave the confines of the monastery; the strictest only accept family for visitors and then only twice a year. Thus physically separated from the world, they become hidden spiritual fathers and mothers of the world, as we discussed in Reginae Eclessiae. They realize the depths of their uselessness and so commend the world to God in constant prayer. Their lives are not separate from the world, but aimed at serving it purely. They give up all worldly possessions and desires, not because these things are evil, but because after leaving them behind, they are free to pray always. Their goal and purpose is to be a well-spring of prayer that the Church might draw from to quench Her thirst.

There are many orders of religious life: Benedictines, Trappists, Cistercians, Franciscans, Dominicans, Carmelites and many more. My personal favorites are the Carthusians. Over 90% of their waking day is observed in silence. The only sounds are the tolling of bells, the occasional hand saw, and a melodious chant at Mass, Vespers, and Vigils. Each monk lives in a four room cell with a small garden. In one room he works, in another he prays, another he studies, and the last he uses only to pray a quick Hail Mary when returning from the three times a day he leaves his cell.

Their life is spent in silence and solitude; their only company is the Lord. No visitors are allowed into the monastery nor do they ever leave, yet the monks have a peculiar knack for getting martyred. Three were killed after the Anglican Church was founded and the Papists were persecuted. More were killed when Carthusians in Italy opened their doors to refugees fleeing the Nazi armies. Apparently, the Nazi’s did not like the monks protecting Jewish and Italian families. It’s amazing how these monks reacted to their torture and subsequent death. “The Silent Summer of 1944,” which was run in the Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore Romano, retells their tale. “Brother Gabriele, for example, had a burning flame repeatedly held up to his beard. The monk courageously faced the pain wordlessly and calmly looked at his torturer, who finally gave up, confused by such behavior.” Dom Giovanni Abetini was beat with a rod while balancing a Breviary on a board. If the book of prayer fell, he was beat and ridiculed. These stories come from a 2004 trial held in La Spezia, Italy. Vincenzo Rizzo was a young man protected by the monks, who testified to many other horrors the monks and refugees were subjected to.

Contrary to popular marketing practices, the Carthusians are content not to advertise. The American Charterhouse has a website with an extensive description of their type of spirituality, but that’s about it. It consists mostly of extended quotes from non-Carthusian authors, simple photographs of the monastery, and quotes from the Rule written by St. Bruno 900 years ago. They’re up front about telling people interested in joining the Carthusian ranks that most likely they won’t make it. They refuse all honors from the Church. None of their monks go on to become Bishops. Nor do they pursue the canonization process for any monk who shows exceptional virtue. Instead, they bury him in a grave marked with a plain white cross. The monks say “laudabiliter vixit” which is the Latin equivalent of “he did alright.” In the grave, the monk is happy to finally fade away into obscurity, remembered by no one but the Christ. Yet, in their 900 year existence, the brothers are still around. Despite their attempts to be forgotten by the world, their lives are like cities built on hills, beacons of light in the darkness.

Men and women in religious life are essential to the body of Christ. Christianity could not hope to survive without them. They are God’s promise of salvation in their little oasis, safe from most worldly desires. They are models of the interior life that all souls seduced by the Lord are called to. Nothing is more important to them than God, and their poverty, silence, and solitude shows this. By observing their outward lives, we laymen learn how our interior lives should be orientated. It may be necessary for us to live in houses, earn adequate amounts of money, and other activities that aren’t conducive to contemplation of God, but we are to strive to be detached from all created things. Never should we put our faith in our possessions or even other people; they’re going to fail us eventually. We can love these things, accepting them as good, but that is very different than trusting in them. Instead, we ought to follow the example of the monks, abandoning our trust in things and placing it all in God.

Christus Vincit, Christus Regnat, Christus Imperat!

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Sign of The Cross - Latin Lesson #1

Because Latin is the official language of the Roman Catholic Church (thus helping all who use it to remain obedient to the Church), and because it is not our native tongue (thus making present the mystery of God and prayer in the very words we use), the Red Cardigan Society has a wholly positive view of the moderate use of Latin in prayer and liturgy. For that reason, we will be posting Latin lessons from time to time, designed for the person who has no inclination to learn the proper grammatical procedures of Latin. Thus the mystery of Latin will not remain also inaccessible.

To begin with, the sign which begins all things:

In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen

In is rather obvious. Nomine means name, like our word "nominal", which means "in name only", like "he is only nominally a Catholic". Patris is "of the father", coming from the word pater, where we get "paternity" and "patron". The "of the" part comes from the declension of the noun [the genitive case]. [It comes from pater, -is, which is betrayed as a third declension noun by the genitive -is]. "et" means and, as in "et cetera", meaning and the rest. "Filii" is son, from filius, where we get "filial". Spiritus Sancti means [literally "the breath/air/soul/life of the sacred/divine/holy", spiritus being in the nominative case, sancti in the genative, a la Whitaker's Words]. Sancti here is the same word used in the "Sanctus" or Holy sung at Mass. And "Amen" is exactly the same!


Perhaps a discourse on the great mystery of the Sign of The Cross is due on this blog, but for now, revel in the mystery of the Trinity which you can now invoke in this mysterious, but now access able, language.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Bishop Slattery's Homily

On Saturday the first Solemn High Mass in the Extrodinary Form was celebrated at the
Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington D.C. I was unable to watch the festivities, as I was occupied listening to an amazing homily by a Fransiscan at the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, WI. Unfortunately there is no transcript of that homily (it certainly deserves it!), but Bishop Slatery's homily at the High Mass is a good substitute. Where as the Fransiscan talked about the Eucharist, Immaculate Conception and Assumption, all three very Catholic, Bishop Slattery talks about suffering, obedience and Truth, also all very Catholic. It's worth a meditative read.

---


We have much to discuss – you and I …

… much to speak of on this glorious occasion when we gather together in the glare of the world’s scrutiny to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the ascension of Joseph Ratzinger to the throne of Peter.

We must come to understand how it is that suffering can reveal the mercy of God and make manifest among us the consoling presence of Jesus Christ, crucified and now risen from the dead.

We must speak of this mystery today, first of all because it is one of the great mysteries of revelation, spoken of in the New Testament and attested to by every saint in the Church’s long history, by the martyrs with their blood, by the confessors with their constancy, by the virgins with their purity and by the lay faithful of Christ’s body by their resolute courage under fire.

But we must also speak clearly of this mystery because of the enormous suffering which is all around us and which does so much to determine the culture of our modern age.

From the enormous suffering of His Holiness these past months to the suffering of the Church’s most recent martyrs in India and Africa, welling up from the suffering of the poor and the dispossessed and the undocumented, and gathering tears from the victims of abuse and neglect, from women who have been deceived into believing that abortion was a simple medical procedure and thus have lost part of their soul to the greed of the abortionist, and now flowing with the heartache of those who suffer from cancer, diabetes, AIDS, or the emotional diseases of our age, it is the sufferings of our people that defines the culture of our modern secular age.

This enormous suffering which can take on so many varied physical, mental, and emotional forms will reduce us to fear and trembling – if we do not remember that Christ – our Pasch – has been raised from the dead. Our pain and anguish could dehumanize us, for it has the power to close us in upon ourselves such that we would live always in chaos and confusion – if we do not remember that Christ – our hope – has been raised for our sakes. Jesus is our Pasch, our hope and our light.

He makes himself most present in the suffering of his people and this is the mystery of which we must speak today, for when we speak of His saving presence and proclaim His infinite love in the midst of our suffering, when we seek His light and refuse to surrender to the darkness, we receive that light which is the life of men; that light which, as Saint John reminds us in the prologue to his Gospel, can never be overcome by the darkness, no matter how thick, no matter how choking.

Our suffering is thus transformed by His presence. It no longer has the power to alienate or isolate us. Neither can it dehumanize us nor destroy us. Suffering, however long and terrible it may be, has only the power to reveal Christ among us, and He is the mercy and the forgiveness of God.

The mystery then, of which we speak, is the light that shines in the darkness, Christ Our Lord, Who reveals Himself most wondrously to those who suffer so that suffering and death can do nothing more than bring us to the mercy of the Father.

But the point which we must clarify is that Christ reveals Himself to those who suffer in Christ, to those who humbly accept their pain as a personal sharing in His Passion and who are thus obedient to Christ’s command that we take up our cross and follow Him. Suffering by itself is simply the promise that death will claim these mortal bodies of ours, but suffering in Christ is the promise that we will be raised with Christ, when our mortality will be remade in his immortality and all that in our lives which is broken because it is perishable and finite will be made imperishable and incorrupt.

This is the meaning of Peter’s claim that he is a witness to the sufferings of Christ and thus one who has a share in the glory yet to be revealed. Once Peter grasped the overwhelming truth of this mystery, his life was changed. The world held nothing for Peter. For him, there was only Christ.

This is, as you know, quite a dramatic shift for the man who three times denied Our Lord, the man to whom Jesus said, “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Christ’s declaration to Peter that he would be the rock, the impregnable foundation, the mountain of Zion upon which the new Jerusalem would be constructed, follows in Matthew’s Gospel Saint Peter’s dramatic profession of faith, when the Lord asks the Twelve, “Who do people say that I am?” and Peter, impulsive as always, responds “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”

Only later – much later – would Peter come to understand the full implication of this first Profession of Faith. Peter would still have to learn that to follow Christ, to truly be His disciple, one must let go of everything which the world considers valuable and necessary, and become powerless. This is the mystery which confounds independent Peter. It is the mystery which still confounds us: to follow Christ, one must surrender everything and become obedient with the obedience of Christ, for no one gains access to the Kingdom of the Father, unless he enter through the humility and the obedience of Jesus.

Peter had no idea that eventually he would find himself fully accepting this obedience, joyfully accepting his share in the Passion and Death of Christ. But Peter loved Our Lord and love was the way by which Peter learned how to obey. “Lord, you know that I love thee,” Peter affirms three times with tears; and three times Christ commands him to tend to the flock that gathers at the foot of Calvary – and that is where we are now.

Peter knew that Jesus was the true Shepherd, the one Master and the only teacher; the rest of us are learners and the lesson we must learn is obedience, obedience unto death. Nothing less than this, for only when we are willing to be obedient with the very obedience of Christ will we come to recognize Christ’s presence among us.

Obedience is thus the heart of the life of the disciple and the key to suffering in Christ and with Christ. This obedience, is must be said, is quite different from obedience the way it is spoken of and dismissed in the world.

For those in the world, obedience is a burden and an imposition. It is the way by which the powerful force the powerless to do obeisance. Simply juridical and always external, obedience is the bending that breaks, but a breaking which is still less painful than the punishment meted out for disobedience. Thus for those in the world obedience is a punishment which must be avoided; but for Christians, obedience is always personal, because it is centered on Christ. It is a surrender to Jesus Whom we love.

For those whose lives are centered in Christ, obedience is that movement which the heart makes when it leaps in joy having once discovered the truth.

Let us consider, then, that Christ has given us both the image of his obedience and the action by which we are made obedient.

The image of Christ’s obedience is His Sacred Heart. That Heart, exposed and wounded must give us pause, for man’s heart it generally hidden and secret. In the silence of his own heart, each of us discovers the truth of who we are, the truth of why we are silent when we should speak, or bothersome and quarrelsome when we should be silent. In our hidden recesses of the heart, we come to know the impulses behind our deeds and the reasons why we act so often as cowards and fools.

But while man’s heart is generally silent and secret, the Heart of the God-Man is fully visible and accessible. It too reveals the motives behind our Lord’s self-surrender. It was obedience to the Father’s will that mankind be reconciled and our many sins forgiven us. “Son though he was,” the Apostle reminds us, “Jesus learned obedience through what He sufferered.” Obedient unto death, death on a cross, Jesus asks his Father to forgive us that God might reveal the full depth of his mercy and love. “Father, forgive them,” he prayed, “for they know not what they do.”

Christ’s Sacred Heart is the image of the obedience which Christ showed by his sacrificial love on Calvary. The Sacrifice of Calvary is also for us the means by which we are made obedient and this is a point which you must never forget: at Mass, we offer ourselves to the Father in union with Christ, who offers Himself in perfect obedience to the Father. We make this offering in obedience to Christ who commanded us to “Do this in memory of me” and our obediential offering is perfected in the love with which the Father receives the gift of His Son.

Do not be surprised then that here at Mass, our bloodless offering of the bloody sacrifice of Calvary is a triple act of obedience. First, Christ is obedient to the Father, and offers Himself as a sacrifice of reconciliation. Secondly, we are obedient to Christ and offer ourselves to the Father with Jesus the Son; and thirdly, in sharing Christ’s obedience to the Father, we are made obedient to a new order of reality, in which love is supreme and life reigns eternal, in which suffering and death have been defeated by becoming for us the means by which Christ’s final victory, his future coming, is made manifest and real today.

Suffering then, yours, mine, the Pontiffs, is at the heart of personal holiness, because it is our sharing in the obedience of Jesus which reveals his glory. It is the means by which we are made witnesses of his suffering and sharers in the glory to come.

Do not be dismayed that there are many in the Church who have not yet grasped this point, and fewer yet still in the world will even dare to consider it. But you – you know this to be true – and it is enough. For ten men who whisper the truth speak louder than a hundred million who lie.

If, then, someone asks of what we spoke today, tell them we spoke only of the truth. If someone asks why it is you came here to Mass, say that it was so that you could be obedient with Christ. If someone asks about the homily, tell them it was about a mystery. And if someone asks what I said to the present situation, tell them only that we must – all of us – become saints through what we suffer.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

How to Make a Nun

We mentioned the investiture ceremony in Reginae Eclessiae. Here is a first hand look.
The time-honored, solemn tradition of... applying make-up.

The Father walks His Son's brides down the aisle.


The nuns made a cappa magna for the occassion:


The Bishop crops the postulant's hair:

The hair will be given to the new nun's mother.


And after a quick costume change and a few vows, both of which last a lifetime, you've got yourself a nun:

And just for good measure, here are nuns from a different order just after they recieved the habit. Notice the weight of the Church's mysogonistic opression in their faces:


My personal favorite...


The newest mothers of the world:

Friday, April 23, 2010

Reginae Eclessiae

Jesu et Maria sit nobis in via!

In her April 11th op-ed column, Maureen Dowd compared her position in the Roman Catholic Church to the position of Saudi Arabian women, saying, “I, too, belonged to an inbred and wealthy men’s club cloistered behind walls and disdaining modernity. I, too, remained part of an autocratic society that repressed women and ignored their progress in the secular world. I, too, rationalized as men in dresses allowed our religious kingdom to decay and to cling to outdated misogynistic rituals, blind to the benefits of welcoming women’s brains, talents and hearts into their ancient fraternity.” What lamentable error! The Catholic Church has an exalted view of women, stemming directly from their understanding of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

In a belief which was first documented in the 4th century, the Roman Catholic Church has taught that God so loved His mother, that He made her the pinnacle of His creation. She was conceived entirely free from original sin, that she might remain the Mother of Divine Grace, Mother most Pure and most Chaste, and the Mother Inviolate and Undefiled, as she is described in the Litany of Loretto. Throughout the course of her life she remained in the same purity, being given the entirety of motherhood and virginity. And at her death, God, not content to see the mother of His Son turn to dust as we will, effected the bodily assumption of the Blessed Virgin into Heaven. And as the Magnificat tells us, all this was given to Mary, the simplest of women, God’s lowly handmaiden! The Church has certainly not repressed this woman, but has revered her to such an extent that many confuse it with worship.

Mary is the ideal of womanhood. While no other woman will be given the gift of virgin motherhood, the purity of the Blessed Virgin is the object of every mother. Abortion, contraception, and other corruptions of pure motherhood are condemned for this very reason. In their place, the Catholic woman is given every guidance to lead her to the fullness of herself. The Mother of God cooked, cleaned and did the so-called menial house chores! The housewife has been made the ideal vocation. Men ought to feel slighted because women, and not men, imitate the very Mother of God.

For those women whom are not called to motherhood, they become the spiritual mothers of the world while remaining virgins. Far from just locking themselves behind the grille, the Roman Catholic nun embraces the entirety of mankind, praying and sacrificing the joys that other women enjoy for humanity’s sake. They go so far as to deny themselves sleep! These women no more throw away their motherhood than they throw away their femininity, even in its most obnoxious forms. The nun is even spiritually married to her Divine Spouse, Jesus Christ. At her investiture, where her hair is cropped and she receives the habit, a nun is adorned with the most decadent wedding dress, jewelry and makeup available, in full recognition of this spiritual marriage. In taking the habit, these nuns vow to remain virgins, in direct imitation of the Perpetual Virgin.

The Church has praised women throughout the centuries. At the very height of the Mass when the Eucharistic species become the very Body and Blood of Jesus, the names of Felicity, Perpetua, Agatha, Lucy, Agnes, Cecilia, and Anastasia ring out in the loudest public declaration of the Church’s love for the great women saints or the past. St. Monica, the mother of the famed St. Augustine is remembered by faithful Catholics in equal esteem as her son. We know about her through a few lines in a work of her son, and yet she is celebrated as one of the holiest of women. Lest it be thought that the Church expects women to “keep their place”, three women, Sts. Catherine of Sienna, Theresa of Avila, and Therese of Lisieux are proclaimed Doctors of the Church, a saints highest title. The Church does not oppress women, is not blind to them, and in no way disdains them. Rather, with the Queen of Heaven as guide, the Church, who herself is feminine, makes all her women queens.

Christus Vincit, Christus Regnat, Christus Imperat!

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

St. Justin, martyr

Prior to the Second Vatican Council, today was St. Justin's feast day. EWTN has reprinted Butler's entry, and New Advent has an impressive write-up as well.

But what caught my eye was this quote, writen no later than 160 AD:

There is then brought to the president of the brethren bread and a cup of wine mixed with water; and he taking them, gives praise and glory to the Father of the universe, through the name of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and offers thanks at considerable length for our being counted worthy to receive these things at His hands. And when he has concluded the prayers and thanksgivings, all the people present express their assent by saying Amen. This word Amen answers in the Hebrew language to genoito [so be it]. And when the president has given thanks, and all the people have expressed their assent, those who are called by us deacons give to each of those present to partake of the bread and wine mixed with water over which the thanksgiving was pronounced, and to those who are absent they carry away a portion. And this food is called among us Euxaristia, of which no one is allowed to partake but the man who believes that the things which we teach are true, and who has been washed with the washing that is for the remission of sins, and unto regeneration, and who is so living as Christ has enjoined. For not as common bread and common drink do we receive these; but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food which is blessed by the prayer of His word, and from which our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh. For the apostles, in the memoirs composed by them, which are called Gospels, have thus delivered unto us what was enjoined upon them; that Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, said, "This do ye in remembrance of Me, this is My body; "and that, after the same manner, having taken the cup and given thanks, He said, "This is My blood; "and gave it to them alone.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Eucharistic Mercy

This is a selection from St. Faustina's Diary:


This morning after completing my spiritual exercises, I began at once to crochet. I sensed a stillness in my heart; I sensed that Jesus was resting in it. That deep and sweet consciousness of God's presence prompted me to say to the Lord,

"O Most Holy Trinity dwelling in my heart, I beg you: grant the grace of conversion to as many souls as the stitches that I make today with this crochet hook."

Then I heard these words in my soul: My daughter, too great are your demands.

"Jesus, You know that for You it is easier to grant much rather than a little."

That is so, it is less difficult for Me to grant a soul much rather than a little, but every conversion of a sinful soul demands sacrifice.

"Well, Jesus, I offer You this whole-hearted work of mind; this offering does not seem to me to be too small for such a large number of souls; You know, Jesus, that for thirty years You were saving souls by just this kind of work. And since holy obedience forbids me to perform great penances and mortifications, therefore I ask You, Lord: accept these mere nothings stamped with the seal of obedience as great things."

Then I heard a voice in my soul: My dear daughter, I comply with your request.



How little Christ can deny us, Him who took flesh for us, who suffered the humilation of His Passion, Death and Descent into Hell for us! It would be foolish to think that we are not called to the holiness of the saints when we consider that He is most willing to grant us our every wish: He died for that privilage!

Christ told one saint (I want to say St. Rita, though I'm not sure) that He would have instituted the Eucharist for her alone. Think! Christ would have submited to His Life and Death, the most miserable a man could have experienced, all so that one simple woman could be one with Him for but a moment!

How could we possibly submit ourselves for Communion in a thoughless manner or not offer a most unworthy thanksgiving afterwards when we realize the excessive condescencion of God's Love! What could be more excessive than giving your whole self to a man who did nothing to deserve it. Luke warm companionship would have itself been excessive, and yet Christ gives us perfect love!

The saints considered their whole lives both a preperation for recieving the Eucharist and a perpetual thanksgiving. How pitiful are our inadaquate practices.




The Eucharist from Scripture

“And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer; and he was given much incense to mingle with the prayers of all the saints upon the golden altar before the throne;” (Rev 8:3). When the Catholic Church pulls out all of her traditions, this passage comes to life in the liturgy. The priest takes a thurible filled with incense. Walking around the altar, he incenses it and man can see his prayers ascending to God. However, what I find most amazing, is that there is an altar in Heaven.

Why would there be an altar? This is Heaven we’re talking about! There doesn’t need to be any more sacrifice for sins. Why would we need to sacrifice? Won’t everything be perfect? Yes, it will, and perfect love demands sacrifice. Jesus revealed this when He told his disciples, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; for they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her living put in all that she had” (Lk 22: 4). This was true love for God. In Heaven, we see the 24 elders falling down before the Lord while “they cast their crowns before the throne” (Rev 4:10). These were the crowns that God gave to them, but they recognized that He gives us gifts so that we can glorify Him.

Yet, any sacrifice offered by us, including those Heavenly crowns, would be, in a sense, insufficient. Certainly not worthy using Heaven’s golden altar! Our lives are worthless. There is only one Lamb pure and holy enough to be an eternal sacrifice: Jesus. As St. John continues his revelation the Lamb appears “as though it had been slain” (Rev 5:6). Whoa! Jesus is appearing… dead in Heaven? Well not quite, the Lamb is very much alive. St. John is expressing the nature of the life of Christ. He perpetually offers His entire self for the glory of Father and those He loves. We couldn’t expect anything less from the perfect King. He is the good Shepherd who always lays down His life for His flock, eternally pouring His life, His blood, into our souls. Think, if He loves us shameful humans, He couldn’t possibly, even for a moment, withhold the tiniest sliver of love from His Father. Jesus offers His perfect life always to the One who begot Him, Him whom He loves so sweetly. The altar in Heaven is for Christ.

It is the glorious mystery of Christianity that we should follow Christ wherever He might go. Therefore, we offer ourselves “as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God” (Rm 12: 1). God calls us to offer up our lives to praise Him, our perfect Good. Yet, should our worship stop there; I couldn’t help but fall on my knees and weep. Even if I should live a perfect life, I would have nothing worthy to offer God (cf. Rm 11: 35). So holy is our Father that nothing but the sacrifice of an infinite life equal to His own could satisfy Him. Blessed be the Lord that He has made this possible! Or are you unaware that by being sons of God, we share the inheritance and priesthood of Christ (cf. Rev 1:6)?

The core of the Old Testament and priestly life is sacrifice. At the institution of the Passover, Moses tells the Hebrews to buy a male, unblemished lamb. He instructs them to follow the two components of a sacrifice by first, slaughtering the lamb, and second, eating the lamb. Then, Moses has his people smear blood over the doorway to mark them as safe from the Lord’s wrath (Ex 12: 1-13). In Leviticus, a similar sacrifice is institutionalized and codified into law for the celebration of the harvest. Interestingly, there’s an addition. It is written, “you shall offer a male lamb a year old without blemish as a burnt offering to the LORD. And the cereal offering with it shall be two tenths of an ephah of fine flour mixed with oil, to be offered by fire to the LORD, a pleasing odor; and the drink offering with it shall be of wine, a fourth of a hin” (23: 12-13). Here, the sacrifice of lamb and the offering of bread and wine are placed together, side by side.

Another Old Testament practice was the “bread of the Presence” which was placed on a golden table (1 Kings). This was housed in the temple of the Lord, signifying God’s presence. This bread was always present physically as an offering to God. The Law declared the bread holy, not merely normal. Jesus discusses this in Mt 12: 4. “Have you not read what David did, when he was hungry, and those who were with him: how he entered the house of God and ate the bread of the Presence, which it was not lawful for him to eat nor for those who were with him, but only for the priests?”

I ask you brothers and sisters, if God loved Israel so as to give them signs of His presence and means to offer sacrifices to Him and somehow, we as priests will participate in the sacrifice of Christ in Heaven, what are we sacrificing now?

The eve of the Passover. The one True, perfectly unblemished, paschal Lamb lifts up a loaf of bread saying, “this is my body which will be given up for you.” Jesus completes the link between the bread and wine and the sacrificial lamb. In less than 24 hours, the Perfect Lamb would hang limp on the Cross, sacrificed. Jesus reveals at the Last Supper that His death on the Cross is the offering of bread and wine, not separate from the crucified Lamb. The bread and wine are fulfilled in Christ. Now if the sacrifice of Jesus was real. If He actually died, and it wasn’t just a symbolic death, we need to finish the sacrifice and actually eat the Lamb (cf. Ex: 12:8). Oh that is cannibalism! How can Jesus give us His flesh to eat? “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and you drink his blood, you do not have life within you… for my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks by blood remains in me and I in him” (Jn 6: 52-56).

The Apostle Paul says this explicitly, “The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” (1 Cor. 10 16-17.) If we “participate” in something, we are part of that reality. Participation definitely does not mean symbolic, but to share a nature. The species of Bread share the reality of being Christ’s body and the wine, His blood. Paul continues that through this marvelous reality that something miraculous occurs: we who are many become one body. How can a merely symbolic presence do this? “I speak as to sensible men; judge for yourselves what I say” (1 Cor 10:15).

I am astonished that people believe Christ came to earth and gave us more symbols and powerless rituals to observe. He came to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth. Christ is present; Christ is King now. He was not here to mess around with human symbols and holy bread, but to give to us the reality of Heaven. Of course, we’re not ready to see this face to face, so like Moses who came down from the mount, His face shining, Jesus also veils Heaven for us. He gives us our Eternal Happiness in a reality we can cope with (Cf. Ex 34:29-33).

As “a high priest after the order of Malchizedek” (Heb 5:10), Christ too offers bread and wine (cf. Gen 14:18), but because Christ is infinitely greater than this mere mortal, His offerings and sacrifices cannot be merely symbolic lest we dishonor Him by saying that His gifts to us are equivalent to those of Moses. Nay, while the holy bread on the golden altar signified the presence of the Lord in the temple, the Eucharistic Bread is greater. It is the presence of the Christ’s eternal sacrifice on the altar of Heaven.

The Kingdom of Heaven is here (Alleluia, Alleluia!); Christ has ascended His throne and rules the world. He is Emanuel, God with us. Heaven is in our midst like a fig tree about to blossom. Its beauty is here, its fullness concealed beneath the sepals, safeguarded from the elements of the world. Because Heaven is here and truly now, we offer the same sacrifice of Heaven: the Eucharist, Jesus the Christ.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Sacred Sex

Jesu et Maria sit nobis in via!

If the simple question of "What do you enjoy?" were to be asked around campus we can imagine some of the common responses. Drinking, hanging out with friends, watching movies, playing video games, ect. But if we were more honest about what we truly enjoy the common responses would probably look a little different. Perhaps something like this? Sex, porn, masturbation and (still) drinking. We desire, seek out and consume all of these because they seem to bring us great pleasure.
Sexual desire is universal in all of us at some point in our lives. Some of us control it, and some of us are controlled by it.

There exists a common misconception about what the Church teaches on the matters of sex. However, the truth is really quite simple and agreeable. Anyone who claims to be a Christian and believes that sex is bad, wrong, dirty, etc. could not be farther from what the Church holds to be true. Sex is sacred. We hold that sex was designed to be an expression of love.

So then why is it that the Church stands so much against any form of sexual activity outside of the covenant relationship of marriage? Because it is not sex, it is lust. It should be well noted that even in marriage a couple is capable of indulging in lust rather than in a true act of love. Yes, in biological terms sex is simply a physical act. However, sex is more than just the physical, it is a much deeper uniting of the body, mind and soul. Beyond this, it is a pure expression of love. And what is it that we mean by love? To will the good of the other. And does anyone among us take issue with such a charitable and honest definition?

This last paragraph brings many questions even to Christian minds, but a fundamental question lies beneath these. Why must sex outside of marriage always (and even sometimes inside of if) be an act of lust rather than love?

Perhaps it would be best to make a few points clear before addressing this question. First of all, we completely agree that sexual impurity brings great pleasure to the human body. We also hold as true that the sexual activity is often mutual and can even bring a form of happiness to many people.

Then why does the Church stand so defiantly against it! Does God not want us to be happy? Yes, He does, but God invites everyone to a greater, more fulfilling happiness.

Not one of us is commanded to abstain from all hints of sexual immorality for the sole sake of saving ourselves from something, in this case sin. Rather, we are saving ourselves for something. Even before meeting our spouse we have the opportunity to be madly in love with them. And by what means? The same means those of us who are currently married show their spouse how much they love them, by faithfulness. Would any of us experience joy as the result of the infidelity of our spouse? Of course not, so we see that trust and love flourish when chastity is practiced. How great a joy it would be if all who are called to be married would preserve their body, mind and soul for the sake of their spouse to be. How much greater would the trust and love be between the two, as they know they have both been loved by the other before ever meeting!

But is this too Utopian? Could this ever really happen? It matters not what the rest of the world does in this regard; rather, if we see that chastity is right, good, and true, are we not called to follow and lead others in it's ways?

In the light of the merits of chastity, we can see the short comings of lust more clearly. Even a hint of lust results in an imperfect love. Lust does not put what is truly good, chastity, for the other above one’s personal pleasure. If it is true and good to be faithful to one’s spouse even before meeting them, then all other sexual activity is unfaithfulness.

So to you who do not share our belief in the merits of chastity, we wish to pose some questions. And while these following questions and the words they contain will have different definitions to all readers, we ask that you please do not consider the hypocrites among us, rather the idea of chastity itself. So then, does this way of life cause an increase in love or an increase in hate? Is it a reasonable (not provable) way to go about one's life? Is it a life you would like to see in your future spouse or children, yet choose to not live it out yourself?

And to you who profess a life of chastity, may this article urge you to live out life accordingly.

By this article we do not mean to propose a complete defense of all Church doctrine in regards to sex and alike; rather we simply hope to clear up a common misconception of our day. So let it be known that we do not practice such virtues as chastity because of the so-called 'evils of sex;' rather we practice such virtues so that we may love our God and our spouse more fully.

Christus Vincit, Christus Regnat, Christus Imperat!

Heavenly Gold

Jesu cum Maria sit nobis in via!

Fundamental to understanding Christian doctrine is knowing the four last things: death, judgment, Heaven, and hell. These help define and guide the entire Church toward her Spouse. Without them, Christianity is crippled in being meaningful at all. It becomes a pleasure as fleeting as atheism which dies whenever we do. Unless we know what is eternally true and valuable, we could never learn to value what’s actually important in this world. We learn to choose the good and avoid the wide chasm of hell by understanding the end to which we aspire, Heaven.

When we begin contemplating Heaven as children, we imagine unlimited skittles, mansions, or x-boxes and other non-sense. We associate Heaven with unlimited physical pleasures while we begin knowing hell as a place of eternal pools of fire, unlimited physical suffering. As we grow older, our picture of Heaven should become more complicated. We imagine choirs of angels and a city of gold with walls made of jasper. Precious stones decorate its foundations. We hear a fanfare of blazing trumpets as Christ descends from above. On the other hand, hell’s pain intensifies as we encounter real suffering beyond scraped knees and stubbed toes. Heaven is clearly more desirably than hell.

Yet, Christians seem to think there’s a choice involved. So, why do people choose hell? If, when we died, St. Peter showed us the gates of Heaven and hell, we would need to be irrational to go to hell! Yet, seemingly rational people certainly will and do choose hell. Contrary to what some think the devil is rather deceptive. Surely both we and many others who presumptuously believe we’ll choose Heaven could be easily fooled into hell.

Sacred Scripture loves painting spiritual truths in terms our physically orientated brains can understand. Considering our human nature, this shouldn’t be surprising. It’s impossible to describe anything not physical. Poets have tried to describe love; the end result has been confusing the general populace. In my thought, such things as a “quickening heart beat,” a “tremble in the voice,” or a “fluttering stomach” are typically accidently related to love and are more likely caused by an unchecked concupiscence. Real love is measured in sacrifice. As human beings, we reason that we love our spouses or other people by realizing what we’re willing to give. Do you forgive the whining? Do you call her even if you don’t want to? Would you drop your desires at a moment for the sake of the other? No matter why we think we’re in love, it’s not because we actually perceive love. We only know love because of the physical effects, whether in the body or by our actions, because love is an abstract reality.

In describing Heaven and hell, Scripture’s authors explain such invisible, eternal realities. For, how can we articulate the glory of God? He is by definition a spiritual being. There is no way we could see Him with our eyes; however, to encourage us in persistence, our Lord willed to reveal these mysteries to us. Thus, He described Heaven in terms of physical things. This doesn’t mean we should stop describing Heaven in terms of gold and silver or even something as tasty as skittles. These do help us understand. The problem is stopping there. For, the Father has revealed His splendor in more than just physical objects by giving the beautiful actions of Christ’s birth, death, and the institution of the Holy Eucharist.

By entering into time as a mere human being rather than an angel or any other heavenly creature, the Divine declared the goodness of His creation and His own humility. A lowly human, bodily form was good enough for God. Can you imagine what Christianity is claiming? A perfect, infinite being, who could have incarnated as anything, assumed the physical appearance of the men who wallow in sin against Him. Even more, Jesus could have appeared as an adult man, but He went further than that. He began life at conception, the most vulnerable moment in mankind’s life, in the womb of the Most Blessed Ever-Virgin, Mary. He then consecrated the entire life of humanity by unjustly suffering, dying on the Cross, and descending into hell.

That is humility. A total sacrifice of one’s self, a Divine sacrifice. Even going to hell to find His lost sheep? That is love. Of course, Christ still wasn’t done. He continues His unwavering promise to be “with [us] always, until the end of the age” (Mt 28:20). In a mystery that defies the wise, we enjoin our High Priest in offering the eternal sacrifice of His Body and Blood in Heaven (cf. Heb 9:12). Christ humbles Himself further to a status lower than even man by assuming the form of simple bread and wine, which we then offer back to the Father in the Eucharistic sacrifice.

What does all this have to do with the New Jerusalem and walls of jasper? Humility, love, and sacrifice are the gold and the silver. God has revealed that these are beautiful; these are true strength and power. This is what He wants. To think that Heaven’s greatest glory will be singing angels or mansions, is to make the same mistake of the Jews who believed that their King would give them simply political salvation. No, Heaven will be much more akin to an eternal Holy Mass where we join Christ in making our lives into a burning sacrifice, giving every penny into the coffers of God, not just 10%.

There’s something about this that’s quite horrifying because the end of our happiness is usually found in things. On Earth, we seek what we want; in Heaven, we’ll only want God. Here and now, we cling to our will. In Heaven, we’ll surrender our entire self, our entire will, a total sacrifice to be enjoined perfectly to God. Is it a surprise that many will choose hell? Who wants this Heaven where you give all your glory away?

Christus Vincit, Christus Regnat, Christus Imperat.

Prayer of Fr. Charles de Foucauld

I abandon myself into your hands;
do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.

Let only your will be done in me,
and in all your creatures.
I wish no more than this, O Lord.

Into your hands I commend my soul:
I offer it to you
with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord,
and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands,
wihout reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father.