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.