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The "Pastor's Corner" is a collection of essays written by Father McCreary on a variety of subjects including Church teachings, social issues of the day, and things to think about. They are published weekly in our Church Bulletin. Click on a essay title below to jump to that essay, scroll down to read them all or click on a subject above to view more essays. |
From
the Pastor's Desk  Very Reverend Glenn McCreary, V.F. |
Catholic Vocabulary
This liturgical year (2007), I'd like to take some
time for a Catholic vocabulary. How often people ask me: what does this
word, this idea mean? Sometimes we hear things over and over until we
take them for granted. And sometimes we even forget what they mean.
| Servant of the Sevants of God | ||
Triduum
Holy Thursday
Mass of the Lord's Supper
Mandatum
Good Friday
Mass of the Pre-Sanctified
Veneration of the Cross
Holy Saturday
Easter Vigil
Easter Sunday
Triduum: a word we see only once a year, a word
hard to pronounce (it's three syllables: Trid-Doo-Umm), a Latin word
that means "three days."
And the three days in question fall at the end of this week. Three days
reckoned in the Jewish fashion-from sundown to sundown. So, from sundown
Holy Thursday to sundown Good Friday: one day. Sundown Good Friday to
sundown Easter Eve, the second. And sundown Easter Eve to sundown Easter
Sunday makes the third day.
And these days make up the greatest of Christian high holy days. Here
are the days we should never, never miss celebrating. And how can we
celebrate them well?
Holy Thursday celebrates three great gifts Christ gave us before
he died: his body and blood in the Eucharist, the sacrificing and consecrating
priesthood, and his great commandment that would "love one another."
At Thursday night's Mass of the Lord's Supper, we see the ancient
ceremony of the Mandatum, the washing of the feet. Don't forget
to bring your rice bowls to Mass that night-our offerings for the world's
poor also wash feet!
After Mass, we remember the Garden of Gethsemane, keeping watch with
the Eucharistic Lord through the night. An old Catholic custom sent
people visiting all the Blessed Sacrament chapels in their vicinity.
In very Catholic areas crowds of people, teenagers and families and
older folks, move from church to church, neighborhood to neighborhood,
to pray and, yes, to visit. In our area we don't see those crowds. But
every Catholic Church in this county opens its chapel to us that night-we
have only to show up.
Good Friday brings the only day of the Catholic year when we
don't offer Mass. Mourning the death of Christ, we receive communion
consecrated the evening before-what we used to call the Mass of the
Pre-Sanctified. We pray throughout the day-Morning Prayer, our local
ecumenical service in the afternoon, the Liturgy of the Lord's Passion
in the evening. Special to that last liturgy is the Veneration of
the Cross, when we come forward to kiss the image of the cross,
a sign that we embrace the saving cross in our own lives.
Holy Saturday we wait. And when night comes, we retell the story
of our salvation from Genesis' "In the beginning…" to
the angel's words "Why do you seek the living among the dead?"
The Easter Vigil welcomes Christ's resurrection, along with our
parish's new Catholics in the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation and
Eucharist.
And Easter Sunday we keep telling the story over and over: Jesus
lives and we will live forever! When sundown comes, we've sung our alleluias,
we've hunted our eggs, we've shared our feast, we finished our Triduum,
but we've just begun to celebrate our 50 day Easter.
Confession has always had something to do with Lent.
In the Church's early days, Lent began when ashes were placed on the
foreheads of those who had confessed their sins. Lent ended on Holy
Thursday when those same repentant sinners would be absolved and welcomed
to the Eucharist.
More recently, confession was part of the Easter duty. Catholics had
to receive communion at Easter-that was, and is, the Church's law. And
if we have serious sin on our conscience, we have to go to confession
before that Easter communion.
And, even more recently and very sadly, many Catholics have moved away
from regular confession. And that's a loss to our individual spiritual
lives and to the life and the strength of the Church as a whole. Perhaps
this Lent we might rediscover the power and grace of confession.
We might begin that reappraisal of confession by reflecting on the various
names given this sacrament.
We speak of confession. We confess our sins. We put a name on the wrong
we have done. And we say it aloud to the priest. We don't hide under
any generalizations. It's not quite enough to say "I have sinned."
We need to say "This is how I sinned." Then we let the sin
go, then we can begin the healing God offers.
We also call this sacrament penance. Now the original word for
penance, metanoia in the Greek, means to change our minds, to turn ourselves
around. Speaking our sin, being sorry for it, receiving God's forgiveness
should help up change our lives. The penance the priest gives us-that
act of kindness, those few prayer-is just a token that we're willing
to start changing our lives.
And in the past 40 years, we've heard also of the sacrament of reconciliation.
God makes peace with us in this sacrament. God truly forgives us. Christ
promised that forgiveness on Easter night when he gave his apostles
the authority to bind and loose sins. We might prefer that God had chosen
an easier route for us to find forgiveness. Why not just say our sins
quietly to God in prayer? Christ, who is Wisdom incarnate, knew us better.
He knew we needed to speak our sin. He knew we needed to start acting
anew. He knew we needed to hear the incredible words: "I absolve
you from your sins."
Make confession part of your Lent. Make confession part of your Christian
life. Lenten penance services begin this week. Confessions are heard
in this Church every Saturday. And any priest will find time for you
if you ask for an appointment. God waits, like last Sunday's father
figure, to welcome us home. God waits, like Jesus with the adulterous
woman, to send us back to our lives, strengthen by his grace to sin
no more.
We should notice something different about Mass today. We see rose-not
purple-vestments. Flowers-banished from the altar a few weeks ago-have
returned. We hear instrumental music-something we've been fasting from
since Ash Wednesday-once again.
It's Laetare Sunday, the halfway point in our Lenten fast. Advent
had its Gaudete, and now Lent has its Laetare.
"Laetare," like "gaudete," means "rejoice"
in Latin. But the Lenten mid-point rejoicing differs from Advent's.
Laetare is the first word of the entrance song in the Missal, a text
taken from the prophet Isaiah: "Rejoice, Jerusalem! Be glad for
her, you who love her; rejoice with her, you who mourned for her, and
you will find contentment at her consoling breasts."
Who rejoices this Sunday? Jerusalem-the holy city, the place where the
Jewish people built God's temple. Jerusalem-a symbol for the Church,
God's people gathered in unity, the temple of the Holy Spirit.
And how does the Church rejoice? As a mother, ready to give birth through
baptism at Easter; as a mother, happy to see wayward children returning
home through penance; as a mother, feeding her children with the Bread
of life and the Cup of salvation in the Eucharist.
But, don't forget: we are the Church. And Laetare's joy must be our
own. Be joyful because this Easter seven adults will join this Church.
They have seen God's work among us and have come to embrace the Catholic
faith.
Be joyful over those who celebrate reconciliation this Lent. And let
the joy of God's forgiveness be yours as well. It is, after all, so
easy: God longs to hear our sorrow and to welcome us home.
Be joyful over the Eucharist we share. How privileged we are that Christ
invites us so often to his table! Don't take this great gift for granted.
Don't think of Mass primarily as an obligation or a ritual-even though
obligations and rituals can be perfectly good things in themselves.
But remember that Mass is a true sharing in the life and sacrifice of
Jesus Christ. We can never deserve it. Nothing else will ever satisfy
our spiritual hunger. Receive the Lord's presence with joy and thanksgiving.
back to top
Last week, I talked about Lent's origin as a time of preparation for
those preparing for baptism. But, Lent has also always been a time for
sinners to be reconciled.
Lent calls us all to repent our sins. But just what is sin?
Sin is a human rebellion against God's will and plan, a refusal
to live life as God created and intended it. That rebellion expresses
itself in the many ways we break God's commandments.
Now, there's sin and there's sin. Let's remember some of the old-but
still very true-definitions.
Original Sin is the imperfect situation into which we're born.
Even the best of us seem incapable of always choosing the good and rejecting
the bad. We have this virtually genetic tendency towards wrongdoing.
Only Christ and Our Lady came into this world without original sin-Christ
by his divine nature, Mary by grace. In baptism, we are set free from
original sin; even though it's effects on our nature remain.
Actual Sin is the wrong choices we make, rejecting God and breaking
the commandments. And actual sins must be true choices-we don't break
the commandment about Sabbath worship when we're in the hospital for
surgery!
Mortal Sin is an action or omission so great that it severs our
relationship with God and the Church. We call it "mortal"
because it is deadly; it kills a life-giving relationship. Mortal sins
must be confessed to the priest. And it would be a great sin itself-the
sin of sacrilege-to receive holy communion when we know we have an un-confessed
mortal sin on our conscience. Mortal Sin requires three elements: 1.
The action has to be seriously sinful, not a passing fault; 2. We have
to know that the action is sinful-mortal sin does not sneak up on us
or happen by accident (But, even if ignorance lessens our guilt, we
have a responsibility to seek and know the truth), and 3. We have to
freely choose the sin-an accident is not a sin; something we're forced
to do is not a mortal sin
Venial Sin is lesser sins-consisting in less serious matter,
incomplete knowledge or partial freedom. Venial sin weakens our relationship
with God and the Church. We avoid those sins and repent them when they
happen. Prayer and works of charity can forgive them-although we may
speak them in confession. They do not prevent us from receiving holy
communion
Inquiry
catechumen
candidate for full communion
Rite of Welcome
Rite of Election
Elect
Book of the Elect
Scrutinies
Scrutinies for the Elect
Neophytes
Mystagogia
March 4th, 2007
Lent and Easter both mean springtime, a time for new beginnings. Christ,
by his death and resurrection, gives a new beginning to human history.
The sacraments of initiation-baptism, confirmation and eucharist-give
a new beginning to people embracing the Catholic faith.
And so, in Lent and Easter, we hear a good deal about the RCIA-the
Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults.
Many times we think of RCIA as Vatican II's answer to convert instructions-private
sessions with the priest that led a non-Catholic to often a very private
celebration of the sacraments. But Vatican II didn't invent RCIA-rather,
we retrieved its wisdom from our ancient past.
When people first think about the Catholic faith, they have questions.
The first part of RCIA is Inquiry, a time to ask questions, to
explore the faith without really making a commitment. Inquiry can take
months-or it could take years.
When someone decides they do want to join the Church, they become a
catechumen-if they've never been baptized-or a candidate for
full communion-if they've been baptized in another other Christian
community. We celebrate with catechumens and candidates the Rite
of Welcome, a ritual at the door of the church marked with the signing
of the cross all over their bodies.
With Lent, the catechumens and candidates enter a time of prayerful
enlightenment, as they discern what it means to live the Catholic faith.
The first Sunday of Lent, the Bishop chooses-- "elects"--those
who will receive the sacraments this Easter in the Rite of Election.
Catechumens-who are now called the Elect--sign their names in
the Book of the Elect-the large book now next to the tabernacle
in our church.
Then come the Scrutinies-rites that ask the Spirit to scrutinize-to
examine-the hearts of those approaching the sacraments.
This Sunday, the Scrutiny focuses on the candidates for full communion,
asking the Spirit to show them their sin as they prepare for confession.
The next three Sundays, we celebrate Scrutinies for the Elect.
These prayers are really exorcisms, meant to drive out the spirits of
sin and disbelief to clear the way for the Holy Spirit in baptism and
confirmation.
Holy Saturday morning we pray with the elect and the candidates. And
in a beautiful ceremony, the Church gives them their new names, their
confirmation names.
Finally, we come to the Easter Vigil After the first Easter gospel,
the one about the myrrh-bearing women, the elect are baptized. The candidates
for full communion join them for confirmation and all share in the Lord's
table.
After Easter, we continue to pray and celebrate with the newly baptized-now
called the neophytes, meaning newly-enlightened. This is the
time of Mystagogia, a time to joyfully reflect on the mysteries
they have received-the mystery of God present in Church and sacrament.
Mardi Gras
Carnival
Fastnacht
Shove Tuesday
February 18th, 2007
When I was in high school, some teachers referred
to this time of the year as the Winter Doldrums. School grew old.
Courses that seemed exciting in September now turned boring. The heavy
calendar of holidays-Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year-had
passed. Springtime and end of term events-May courts and proms and
graduations-seemed an eternity away. Days grew longer, but the weeks
of late winter, endless-without change or distinction, without activity
or celebration.
But, not so in the Church. These last weeks and days before Lent bear
a number of names-coming from the Catholic world's various ethnic
traditions. Each of those names speaks to these pre-Lenten days as
well as the Lent we're ready to begin
Mardi Gras: Lately Mardi Gras has become a fashionable pre-Ash
Wednesday bar and club occasion. The French word means "Fat Tuesday"
and it really has only a little to do with New Orleans and Cajun food.
The fat was originally lard and butter, the cooking fats we used to
use before modern science invented the even deadlier margarine. Lent's
fast used to exclude all meat products-including fat, dairy and eggs.
The days before Lent began gave us time to use up the fat-to fry doughnuts
and pancakes, to bake rich custards and cakes.
Carnival: We use this word to describe various eating and money-making
occasions throughout the year. But the original Latin, Carne, Vale!
means "Farewell, Meat!" Our ancestors knew a Lent that meant
40 days without any meat-essentially six weeks of fish and vegetables.
Today our abstinence means no meat on Ash Wednesday, the Lenten Fridays,
and Good Friday. But that's the beginning, not the end of our fast:
how can we eat more healthily for 40 days? How can we live in deeper
harmony with nature for 6 weeks? How can our springtime table be life-giving
instead of death-dealing?
Fastnacht: the German word gave a special name to the doughnuts
baked and sold (have you noticed how often ancient customs have turned
into modern commercial gimmicks?) in these days. The word really means
"the night before, the eve of the fast." And in our tradition,
the night before an event is a special celebration. Think of Christmas
or New Year's Eve, keeping watch for midnight, the beginning of Christmas
or a new calendar year. Or the Easter Vigil, that long and wonderful
liturgy that brings us close to the dawn of the resurrection. Fastnacht
tells us to wait up, to eat and drink, to sing and dance--until the
clock strikes twelve and we quiet down and and move away from the
table to keep the fast!
Shrove Tuesday: The old English word pushes us closer to the
meaning of Lent. To be "shriven" means to be forgiven, particularly
by the priest (the shriver) in confession. Two customs about Lenten
confession developed through the years. If Easter communion was to
be made, of course, confession late in Lent was necessary. But, if
Carnival got us into trouble, confession put that right and set us
in an appropriate state of mind for 40 days of putting the mind and
heart of Jesus Christ.
Whatever name we use, take these days to celebrate the goodness of
the world, to rejoice in friends and family, and to prepare for the
blessings of the Lenten fast.
back to top
Catholic
February 11th, 2007
If one Sunday you find yourself waking up in a Bed
and Breakfast in one of the Catholic countries of Europe or South
America, you'll need to ask at the front desk: "Where is the
Church?" Please note: you don't need to explain which one. You
don't need to say "iglesia catolica" or "iglese catholique."
There will only be one Church and it will be Catholic and-what will
make your question all the more unnecessary-it will probably be located
smack in the middle of town, where you couldn't possibly miss it.
From the very beginning, the followers of Jesus have been the Church.
"Catholic" never appeared in the Bible, "Christian"
only in passing. Jesus founds "the Church" on Peter. Paul
writes letters to "the Church" at Rome, at Corinth, at Thessalonica.
If that's the case, where did Catholic come from?
The word Catholic comes, like so many of our Church words, from the
Greek. It's really two words "kata"-according to, and "holos"-whole,
complete (we get the word "holistic" from the same word.)
Catholic-according to the whole group-refers to the beliefs and practices
of the larger church as opposed to a more local or even more personal
approach.
Why start making this distinction? Very early in the Church's history,
divisions cropped up. One local Church would take on a peculiar doctrine
or way of worship. Particularly popular priests and bishops might
have their own special followers.
And very early in the Church's history, people recognized that this
might not be a good thing. St Paul corrects the Corinthians when they
seem to care more about the charismatic Apollos or the first apostle
Peter than they do about their faith in Jesus. And St Ignatius of
Antioch first used the word Catholic to describe the Church over and
against local and personal divisions. True believers belonged to the
whole Church-not the Church in North Africa or the Church in Gaul
or the Arians or the Nestorians.
The word Catholic grew more important as the sad divisions of Christ's
followers grew larger and deeper. Catholic described the Church in
Western Europe as separate from the Orthodox Church in the East. Yet
both Churches would consider themselves to be both Catholic-the universal
faith-and Orthodox-the right-worshipping community.
With the Reformation, Catholic again emphasized the universality of
the Church. Church could never be adequately described with the name
of a theologian (like Luther or Calvin or Wesley) or a national identity
(like the Anglican communion) or a particular doctrinal stance (like
Episcopalian, emphasizing governance through bishops, or Presbyterian,
emphasizing governance through elders, or Baptist, emphasizing adult,
believer's baptism.) To be Church, we needed to embrace the whole
experience--2000 years of belief and structure and worship.
And with the Reformation, "Roman" came to be part of the
Catholic ID. We were Roman Catholic-the universal Church gathered
in unity around the successor of St Peter, the Bishop of Rome, the
Pope.
Today we often hear about "Non-Denominational" congregations,
groups that want to transcend the old battles lines in order to proclaim
Jesus Christ and his gospel. Never forget: we were the first, and
we're still the oldest, non-denominational Christians. And it's all
in that name: Catholic.
Pope
Papacy
Apostolic Succession
Bishop of Rome
Vicar of Christ
Servant of the Sevants of God
Papal Infallibility
Sensus Fidelium
February 4th, 2007
Today Luke's gospel introduces Peter, one of Lord's
first disciples. All the gospels give Peter a prominent role. His
name routinely appears first among the twelve apostles With James
and John, he's part of the inner circle. He is first to proclaim Jesus
as Messiah. Jesus calls him "Peter", a name that means "rock,"
the rock on which Jesus builds his often battered, but always indestructible
church. Jesus gives Peter the keys to the kingdom and makes him shepherd
over God's flock.
Peter goes on to play a central part in Luke's Acts of the Apostles.
He writes two New Testament letters. He proclaimed the gospel in Rome,
where he was martyred. St Peter's Basilica stands over his grave.
Peter leads us to reflect on the Pope and the Papacy.
All bishops have replaced the original Twelve Apostles. They continue
Jesus' mission of preaching the good news, sanctifying people by the
sacraments, and shepherding God's people into deeper unity. Bishops
receive that commission in an unbroken line that traces back to Jesus
himself. Jesus chose and sent the apostles. The apostles chose and
sent bishops-like Timothy and Titus in the New Testament down to the
bishops of our day. We call that the apostolic succession.
While all bishops are successors of the apostles, the Bishop of
Rome is successor to St Peter. He inherits the rights and responsibilities
Jesus gave Peter. He acts as the Vicar of Christ, Jesus' particular
representative in the Church. He can "bind and loose" doctrine,
giving the final decision on what the Church teaches. He can make
laws for the Church. He calls Catholics to act for truth, justice
and peace. At their best, the Popes do all this with deep love for
Christ and for humankind, expressed by the title Pope St Gregory the
Great chose for his office, the Servant of the Servants of God.
Popes have not always been good men. They have sometimes abused their
authority, especially political and economic authority. But Jesus
did not promise perfection for his Church, he promised that the rock
would stand against the jaws of hell.
Questions over the Pope's authority eventually led to the dogma of
papal infallibility.
Papal infallibility means that, by God's gracious action and Christ's
saving promise, the Pope cannot err when he expressly teaches in the
name of Peter. Infallibility applies only to the areas of doctrine
and morals-political opinions, economic systems, art and science cannot
be infallible. Only twice have Popes so proclaimed: the dogma of Mary's
Immaculate Conception and her Assumption, settling old questions and
controversies, giving Catholics a starting point: this is what we
believe about the beginning and the end of Mary's life.
Now they're the not only infallible doctrines in the Church. Many
things are infallible simply because we've always and everywhere believed
them: the divinity of Christ, the Virgin Birth, the Resurrection,
the Real Presence, the sanctity of human life, etc. We hold them as
true because they have been taught again and again, from the earliest
days, by the Spirit-led Church. That infallibility comes from the
sensus fidelium, the sense, the instinct of the faithful.
Sanctus (Holy)
January 28th, 2007
These winter weeks, we've been learning-or re-learning,
if you like-a revered piece of music, the Sanctus.
And I know we've sung these words in English for many years, but as
we learn them in Latin, maybe it's time to think about them again.
The words of the Sanctus come from scripture. The first section comes
from Isaiah 6, a passage we'll hear next weekend at Mass. The prophet
sees a vision of God in the temple. He hears the seraphim, those angelic
beings closest of all to God, crying the text we have sung at Mass
for nearly two millennia.
Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus: three times we cry out, "Holy,
holy, holy." When used about God, "holy" means transcendent
or beyond us. The Father of the Church saw in the three repetitions
of the word an allusion to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
Dominus Deus: Lord (the one who has dominion over all things)
God,
Sabaoth: not a Latin word at all, but a Hebrew word. (Our liturgy
has traditionally used Hebrew ("Alleluia" and "Amen"),
Greek ("Kyrie eleison") and Latin.) Sabaoth means "hosts,"
in the sense of a great number of something, a legion, an army. "Lord
God of hosts" admits of several meanings: God of the angels,
God of heavenly armies, God of Israel's armies, God of the stars.
Hard to translate, our Roman ancestors didn't bother. In English we've
opted for "God of power and might," which gives some of
the sense, but loses all the poetry.
Pleni sunt caeli et terra gloria tuum: Full are heaven and
earth with your glory.
Hosanna: Now we've moved from Isaiah to Psalm 118. We know
this psalm from Eastertide. It begins with "Give thanks to the
Lord, for he is good, for his mercy endures forever." It includes
the phrase, "This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice
and be glad in it!"
"Hosanna" is another Hebrew word, also hard to translate.
Originally it meant, "Save us, now." But eventually it grew
to be used as a word of praise, like "alleluia" or even
"hurrah."
In excelsis: we know from the Gloria refrain we sing at Christmas.
In the highest, which can mean either "in heaven" or "to
the highest degree."
Benedictus qui venit in nomine domini: Blessed who comes in
the name of the Lord. In the psalm it refers the pilgrims approaching
the temple. In the Eucharistic Prayer we cry out our blessings on
Christ, who comes to us-both in the bread and wine transformed into
his body and blood and as our Savior and Judge at the end of time.
Remember, as early as St Paul the Eucharist had an orientation towards
the Second Coming: "As often as you eat this bread and drink
this cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes."
As we keep this week (January 18 through January 25)
the Octave of Prayer for Christian Unity, we might well reflect on
ecumenism.
The word comes from the Greek, oikoumene, which means "the whole
world." But the word is rooted in the notion of a household-the
relationships between husbands and wives, parents and children, employers
and workers. It's also the root for the word "economy,"
where finances are interpreted as relationships between buyers and
sellers, owners and renters, rich and poor.
Through most of Christian history, ecumenical referred to the entire
household of the Church. We speak of the ecumenical patriarchs in
the Eastern Churches-archbishops entrusted with the care of the large
household of a province (in contrast to the parish priest who had
care of a rather smaller piece of the Church). We know about the ecumenical
councils-ranging from the first century Council of Jerusalem to Vatican
II, quite close to our own day, councils that pulled in bishops from
the whole Christian world (not a region or country).
With the sad divisions of Christianity-Orthodox East separate from
Catholic West in the 11th century; Protestant divided from Catholic
in the 16th century-ecumenism came to refer to the restoration of
the household, the gathering together as one all who belong to the
Christian family.
Ecumenism challenges all Christians to reclaim the unity Christ desired
for his Church. To believe in Jesus means we must relate to one another.
Ecumenism requires work. We still have to learn how to speak and hear
the truth in love. Yes, we're glad we share a common baptism between
Catholics, Orthodox and Protestants. Yes, we're thankful we can pool
resources to reach out in justice and mercy towards the needy of our
world. Yes, we're happy that we no longer persecute or malign one
another over our differences.
But ecumenism calls us to keep working through those differences.
Fundamental differences continue to exist over how we use the sacred
scriptures. Basic differences over what Jesus meant when he said,
"This is my body," continue to separate communion table
from altar. A host of issues related to ministry-including the Pope
and the historic priesthood and even the non-ordination of women-continue
to divide us. In recent years, we've seen a growing divide with many
of our Protestant sisters and brothers over sexual ethics and life
issues. The Catholic Church has no intention of becoming Pro-Choice
or of marginalizing the demands of monogamy.
Ecumenism provides daunting challenges. What can we do? First of all,
we pray. This week is essentially an Octave of Prayer-God will give
us the unity we pray for. We continue to work and worship as we can.
We strive to listen respectfully to others. And we speak the truth
clearly and, above all, lovingly.
In today's gospel, Jesus goes to a wedding feast and
changes water into wine-saving the celebration and enriching everyone's
joy. But the wedding feast was more than a convenient foil for the miracle:
marriage itself has long played a part in Jewish and Christian thought
and practice.
What is marriage for us as Catholics?
The scriptures hold marriage in great esteem. The Law of Moses set forth
rights and responsibilities that husbands and wives bore each other.
Sins against marriage-adultery, fornication, and homosexual activity-were
named as capital offenses. The prophets described the relationship between
God and Israel as a marriage-often a stormy union, with the Israel the
bride wandering off in adultery, but God always the faithful and forgiving
spouse. The Song of Songs describes a passionate marriage which Jewish
rabbis and Christian theologians interpreted as an intimate and loving
conversation between God and his people
The gospels tell us that Jesus insisted that God intended marriage to
be a permanent commitment-divorce and remarriage were nothing less than
adultery. St Paul, while commending celibacy, calls Christians to faithful
and loving marriages and describes the relationship between Christ and
his church as a husband and wife relationship. The last book of the
Bible, St John's Revelation, ends with a description of the kingdom
as the wedding between the Lamb (Jesus) and the bride (the new Jerusalem,
the Church).
The Church came to name marriage as a sacrament. We understand that
marriage exists for both unitive (to unite the couple in love and friendship)
and procreative (to begin a new family with the bearing and raising
of children) purposes. The life-giving love of a true Christian marriage
shows the church and the world something of Christ's life-giving love
for his bride, the Church.
As a sacrament, marriage takes place within the rites of the Church.
Catholics don't marry in front of a justice of peace or a Protestant
minister, in a National Park or on a sunset beach. We marry in a sacred
space, in the context of the Church's prayer and praise.
Now, sometimes-human relationships, including marriages, are difficult.
Sometimes the only solution to a violent or abusive marriage is a separation
or a divorce. The Church urges us to work at healing and strengthening
weak marriages. But a divorced person remains a member of Christ's body
and should continue to receive the sacraments of Reconciliation and
Eucharist.
What if a divorced person wants to remarry? The gospel texts quoting
Jesus seem to rule out the possibility. The Catholic Church has striven
to be faithful to the word and command of Christ. But we know that sometimes
people enter into a marriage without the freedom or understanding or
maturity that would permit them to give true consent to the marriage
vows. An annulment is a statement from the Church that, after investigation,
there was found something essential missing in the relationship from
the very beginning. The annulment, witnessing that no full Christian
marriage ever existed, allows the person to enter into a new marriage.
Like Christmas, todays' feast goes by many names.
The official-and original-name is the Epiphany. Epiphany is a
Greek word that means"made manisfest," or "brought to
light." The church's liturgy notes three epiphanies or manifestations
of the Christ. The first is the one we hear about in today's scriptures:
the star manifests the Lord's birth to the pagan Magi. The second we
celebrate on Monday with the Feast of the Lord's Baptism: the Father's
voice and the Spirit's descent manifest Jesus at the beginning of his
public ministry. The third we will hear about in next Sunday's gospel:
Jesus' first miracle-turning water into wine at Cana's wedding feast-manifests
his divinity to the disciples and they begin to believe in him
The time following Epiphany is called Epiphanytide. This year
Epihanytide only lasts a day-most years the Lord's Baptism falls on
the Sunday following. Before Vatican II's reform of the liturgy, Christmas
and Epiphnay lasted much longer-until the Feast of the Lord's Presentation
on February 2. If we listen carefully to the entrance songs for these
first few weeks of Ordinary Time, however, we'll still hear some Epiphany
themes: the nations coming to praise the God of Israel.
Some people call Epiphany Little Christmas. The idea is, of course,
that the approach of the Magi continues the story celebrated first on
Christmas Eve and Day.
Sometimes Epiphany has been called Twelfth Night. The traditional
date for Epiphany is January 6. In Catholic countries where the day
is also a civil holiday, the feast continues to be celebrated on January
6, the twelfth day of the Christmas season. In places like the United
States, Epiphany always fall son the Sunday after the New Year-anywhere
between January 2 and 8! The carol, "The Twelve Days of Christmas"
remembers Epiphany as the richest of the Christmas feasts-when we receive
all the gifts that God, our true love, sends us. Shakespeare's "Twelfth
Night" tells the story of mistaken identities manifested, harsh
rulers (think of Herod) made foolish, and the course of true love set
straight.
And some of our Orthodox brothers and sisters claim January 6 or January
7 as the traditional Christmas, hence sometimes Russian Christmas. Behind
this lies the difference between the old Gregorian and the new Julian
calendars-with an 11 day adjustment between them. As we strive to be
a church in deeper unity-the unity Christ always intended for his people-let's
remember as we wrap up our Christmas season, some Christians are just
beginning to celebrate the Word made flesh.
It may not be a holy day of obligation this year, but New Year's Day
is, for Catholics, much more than just the first square on the calendar.
It's the oldest feast of Mary-the feast of the Theotokos, the
Mother of God.
The Greek term, Theotokos, literally means "God-bearer." In
Latin it's usually translated as Mater Dei, "Mother of God."
Mother of God can be an easily confused term. And some Christians have
avoided using it because they misunderstand it. Do we believe Mary is
the mother of the Holy Trinity? No. Do we believe Mary to be the mother
of the eternal Father or the Holy Spirit? No.
But Mary is the Mother of Jesus. And Jesus is truly God. He is from
all eternity the Word that the Father Speaks. He is the one who makes
the Father the Father. God is not Father because he created the world.
God is not Father because he loves us. God is first and essentially
Father because he always generated the Son.
And in the incarnation, that Son, that Word becomes flesh. From the
moment Mary said "Yes" to the archangel's message, from the
moment the Holy Spirit descended on her, Jesus was fully God and fully
human. We can't separate the humanity from the divinity. So, Mary, mother
of Jesus, was mother of a child fully human and fully divine. She was
mother of the enfleshed Word; she was Mother of God.
Why does the term matter? "Mother of God" tells us how deeply
involved God became with the human race. God truly became one of us,
conceived in a woman's womb, carried during a pregnancy, and fed at
a mother's breast, loved by a mother's heart. That's very involved.
And "Mother of God" tells us that we have a role in God's
saving work. It happened-and continues to happen-through our flesh.
We can say "Yes" to God. We can be the images of Christ. We
can be his body, touching the world with love. We can bring him to birth,
by our works of justice and charity. That's a great role, the dignity
with which God graces the human race.
We're in the Advent season. We light Advent wreaths. We open the doors
on Advent calendars. We sing Advent songs (like O Come, O Come, Emmanuel)
instead of Christmas carols (like "Silent Night"). But just
what is "Advent"?
Advent is a Latin word that means "coming."
In our oldest liturgical books, the year began on Christmas Eve. And
it ended with a series of Masses entitled "In Adventus Domini"-"for
the Advent of the Lord." Those Masses were celebrated at the end
of autumn and the beginning of winter. They talked about Christ's coming
in glory at the end of time-his Second Coming. They were very much about
the resurrection and the last judgment and the repentance that needed
to happen before that day.
Advent matured into a season beginning the fourth Sunday before Christmas.
The liturgical color was purple, a sign of penance and waiting. The
prayers were full of expectation and hope, as well as a request that
we be ready for the last judgment. We omit the Gloria on these Sundays,
waiting for Christmas to sing the angelic song-but, unlike Lent, we
do continue to sing the Alleluia.
The Fathers of the Church talked about three Advents that we celebrate:
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Christmas
Xmas
Holiday
Season
Winter Solstice
December 24th, 2006
In these days when many people seem ready to go into
battle over greetings like "Merry Christmas" or "Happy
Holidays," perhaps it's time to reflect on what these words mean.
Many languages speak of tomorrow's feast as the Lord's Nativity. The
Latin of the missal calls it "Nativitas." The Romance languages
carry that notion with "Natale," "Noel," and "Navidad."
But English-speakers talk about Christmas. And there's a wonderful
truth hidden in that word. We celebrate Christ's Mass. We don't spend
our day focusing on our wealthy and generous selves. We celebrate
Christ. And we celebrate Christ in the Mass-a tradition that stretches
for the very dawn of Christianity. Our liturgy doesn't coo over a
baby in a manger: it makes present the very death and resurrection
of the adult that child became. And that death and resurrection, begun
in the incarnation, brings us to God.
And the abbreviation Xmas never began as a slur on the feast.
The "X" is the Greek letter Chi, the first letter in the
word "Christos." In the days of hand-written books (which
make up, after all, the largest portion of human and Christian history),
nuns and monks would abbreviate whenever they could. And the Greek
X made an easy abbreviation for the name Christ.
Holiday is not a secular term at all. It's an alternative spelling
for holy day. Even though all days become holy through our cooperation
with God's grace, Christmas tells us that there was a day in history
when the Word became flesh, a day particularly touched by God's action,
a day made particularly holy.
Season, as in "Season's Greetings," may seem like
a way to lump all the winter festivities-Christmas, Channukah, Winter
Solstice, and Kwanzaa-into one. But, season has Christian origins
as well. The church has never celebrated Christmas as a single day-we
begin on Christmas Eve and we keep a season of grace through the Lord's
Epiphany. So, keep those trees up until the Three Kings arrive!
Winter Solstice is a term from science. It's the shortest day
of the year, the first day of winter. All Northern Hemisphere religions
have noticed the symbolism of light and darkness easily available
in these days. So yes, Christmas trees and mistletoe and burning logs
have been with us since pagan times. When the missionaries baptized
our pagan ancestors they wisely baptized those beautiful old customs
as well.
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Gaudete
December 17th, 2006
Every Sunday of the year-in fact, every Mass in the
Missal-has a Latin name. It comes from the entrance song of that celebration.
But, since Mass is usually in English or Spanish or French or Italian
or German, we've forgotten many of those old names. We've forgotten
the Mass in honor of Mary, "Salve, Sancte Parens," (Hail,
holy Parent). We've forgotten that Notre Dame's bellringer came by his
name when the priest found in a basket on the Sunday after Easter-Quasimodo
("As in the fashion of children I fed you")
But two of those Latin names have hung on in our imagination. One of
them belongs to today's celebration: Gaudete.
"Gaudete" is simply one of many Latin words that means "rejoice."
From it we get English words like "gaudy" (rather too cheerfully
colored) or even "gay" (in its original sense of merry or
happy).
As the entrance song, "Gaudete" quotes St Paul's words to
the Philipians: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice!
The Lord is near."
Joy becomes part of the ambience of this particular Advent Sunday.
Other Advent Sundays the vestment color was the purple of nighttime,
the violet of winter hills. On Gaudete, the vestments are rose, a lighter
color.
Other Advent Sundays the flowers and music are subdued. We're waiting
for Christmas, after all. But pink flowers appear on the altar and our
music sings forth with special strength.
And why not? After all, Advent is at least-this year quite a bit more-than
half over. We are that much closer to our celebration of Christ's birth.
And we are that much closer to the final Advent-when war and strife,
sickness and death, suffering and doubt are past and we can rejoice
with our Savior forever.
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Most people simply don't know what the Immaculate Conception is. They
confuse it with the Virgin Birth-the teaching that Jesus was conceived
without a human father's intervention. But that's not the Immaculate
Conception.
Take the phrase word by word. "Immaculate" means "clean,"
"without stain." It doesn't mean "without sex."
Our culture has sometimes associated "dirty" with sex-for
example, dirty words, dirty movies or magazines. But the Catholic faith
has never regarded sex as dirty. Sex was a gift from God. Sex makes
up part of the sacrament of holy matrimony. Used as God intended-within
a faithful and loving marriage, with an openness to new life-sex can
indeed be clean and without stain.
The Immaculate Conception isn't about Jesus' Virgin Birth. The Immaculate
Conception isn't about Jesus' conception and birth at all.
The Immaculate Conception has to do with Mary's conception in the womb
of her mother, St Anne. (That's why we celebrate it on December 8-exactly
9 months before the celebration of Mary's birth on September 8.)
Remember when the angel Gabriel comes to Mary and calls her "full
of grace."
He doesn't tell her she will be full of grace. He hails her as graced
at that very moment. And "full" of grace: endowed with as
much grace as a human person can possess, as close to God as one can
be.
As the Spirit-led Church reflected on that unique phrase (Neither Moses
nor Peter nor Mary Magdalen are ever named by scripture as "full
of grace."), we came to understand that Mary always stood in God's
grace-from the very first moment of her human existence, that is, from
her conception.
And that fullness of grace is nothing less than freedom from sin-the
original sin we all inherit from Adam and Eve, the actual sin we do.
And that fullness of grace is absolutely sheer grace. Mary did nothing
to merit it. No action on her part, no faith in her heart, no theology
in her mind attained that grace. Only God's desire to set her free to
say "Yes" to the angel's message, to say "Yes" to
the plan of our salvation.