In but not of

Our main public library has a fantastic playroom in the children’s section, and not a trip to the library can pass without a stop, a session with the train table (because, as I keep telling you, we have NO train toys at home. Not one.), prayers that there will be no crying when we must leave the train table (because, as I keep telling you, there are NOT several yards of track and a few trains at our house. At all.), and me grabbing a book - any halfway-interesting-looking book - off the “New Releases” shelf before we’re closed up inside, so I’m not ready to leave in 158 seconds.

Yesterday, I grabbed In the World But Not Of It: One Family’s Militant Faith and the History of Fundamentalism in America  by Brett Grainger, who has worked as a journalist, radio producer and an editor at Sojourners. I read about half of it there in the playroom and finished it when I got home (it’s 151 pages)

The word “militant” in the title is unfortunate because it gives the wrong impression about Grainger’s accounting of his own family. It implies negativity, and Grainger really conveys no such thing in the book. Even his criticisms are cushioned by empathy and an appreciation for the integrity of his family’s response to the world.

In short, Grainger came from a family of Plymouth Bretheren. Born and raised in Ontario, his paternal grandfather was a preacher who ran into problems when he, in the late 80’s rejected the Brethren’s traditional reluctance to engage in End-Time dating, determining that the Rapture would, indeed, occuron a particular date. The book begins with an account of his grandparents’ day of waiting for the Rapture and intersperses the family narrative with, as the subtitle indicates, a broader history of fundamentalism in North America.

The family material is the strongest - really beautifully written, honest and sympathetic. The history is helpful, especially three sections that cover, briefly but succinctly, the history of Biblical literalism, dispensationalism and the fundamentalist understanding of being saved. If you want a primer on the trajectory of post-Reformation thinking on these things, this is a helpful one.

I thought the last part of the book was weaker than the first - he moves away from the family material and does the obligatory stops at HolyLand USA in Orlando and the Creation Museum in Kentucky. (With an error regarding the former though - in which he says that the Holy Land Experience was purchased by TBN, which is correct, but that TBN is Pat Robertson’s, which, of course, it isn’t.)

(A couple of fun facts I learned - Welch’s Grape Juice was invented expressly for use in Communion services in teetotaling congregations.  Also, the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis included an enormous replication of Jerusalem, which included 1,000 inhabitants imported for the occasion. When we were in St. Louis a couple of years ago, we went to and enjoyed this exhibit on the Fair, and I don’t recall seeing anything about Jerusalem in St. Louis, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there.  You can see a postcard of “Arab stone-cutters” on the site here. )

But Grainger’s descriptions of life with the Brethren, their theology and spirituality, as well as his honest descriptions of the impact of one generation’s single-mindedness on the next, are incisive and often moving. I’ll leave you with a sample, in which he describes a believer’s relationship with his Bible:

Not a day passed when they did not search the Scriptures for comfort or correction. The Word waited on the nightstand. It stared down from bookcases and dozed in glove compartments. Women carried a small, tidy volume in their purses. The men’s were considerably larger. A believer’s Bible was expected to age at roughly the same pace as his body. Elderly brothers carried copies that were battered and falling to pieces, with sagging spines and missing pages. Such Bibles were highly prized. They marked a man well acquainted with the Word. ..

Such drills were like weight training. You started at the lowest level — ‘Jesus wept,’ ‘Search the Scriptures’ — and slowly increased your load until you could bench-press entire chapters. After years of training, the memory became toned and responsive. A believer could fieldstrip a Bible and put it back together blindfolded with one arm tied behind his back. When that day came, you woke up and realized you didn’t need the book; the Word lived inside you.

Bibles for Chinese Catholics

Via Intentional Disciples:

With the advent of the Beijing Olympics this summer, the world is turning an attentive eye to that vast land and its 1.3 billion people. Catholics make up a tiny minority at this point. Some belong to the Patriotic Catholic Church which is recognized by the government, and some are part of an underground Church. Very few Christians have Bibles, but the Holy Spirit has opened a way in response to the prayers of the faithful throughout the world.

Chinese officials have given permission for 15 million Bibles to be printed - one for each Chinese Catholic. They will be distributed through Partnership for China an international trust which solicits international collaboration for the exchange of culture, arts, knowledge and values with the people of China

The Objective Summary for Partnership for China is to work towards
+ Soliciting and facilitating international collaboration with the people of China.
+ Contributing to a greater awareness of the Chinese world to the Western world and vice versa.
+ Promoting and organizing international cultural exchange programs and activities
+ Studying contemporary trends in the Chinese culture and contrasting their influence on other international cultures.
+ Coordinating humanitarian assistance to help the marginalized that they may enjoy a dignified life.

The Holy Father has responded to this need by giving his papal blessing to the project and sponsoring 12,500 Bibles to be printed. Each Bible packet costs $4 and includes a Bible in the Chinese language, a DVD of the story of Jesus, and a booklet titled, “Discovering God in Chinese Characters.”

 

On the laicization of bishops

There’s been a lot of discussion of this question here and there, not only related to the newly-elected president of Paraguay, but also in relation to those bishops who might have profoundly betrayed their office and call.

Today, John Allen has a really excellent (or not - see Zadok’s comment below)  overview of the question, using Lugo as a starting point, but gathering various opinions on the issue:

If the Vatican felt free to laicize bishops, it would probably already have happened several times, particularly in cases where renegade bishops have illicitly ordained priests and other bishops, thereby creating the basis for a full-blown schism. First in line might well be Archbishop Emmanuel Milingo, the Zambian faith-healer and exorcist who has broken with Rome and ordained bishops as part of his “Married Priests Now!” movement. From Rome’s point of view, however, Milingo remains a bishop and hence his ordinations are technically valid, even if the Vatican has announced that it will never grant legal faculties to the men who have been ordained.

To be sure, there are experts who take the contrary view, that a bishop could be laicized if the pope really wanted to do so.

Some point to canon 1405, for example, which gives the pope authority to judge bishops in penal cases. Given that laicization is provided for as a penalty in canon law, these canonists say, there’s no reason in principle it couldn’t be applied to a bishop, even if prudence and respect for the episcopal office counsel restraint. Others cite an 1862 rite published by Pope Benedict XIV for the “degradation of a bishop,” which seems to involve the ritual casting out of a bishop from the episcopal state. All the symbols of office, such as the mitre and pallium, are removed, and the bishop’s fingers and head are even ritually scraped with a knife to signify the removal of the anointing imparted in his ordination ceremony.

For now, the relevant point is that there’s an active theological and canonical debate inside Catholicism about the very possibility of laicizing a bishop. Saying “no” to Lugo, therefore, is not just about grinding axes or scoring political points, but also respecting the theological and canonical complexities.

To be crystal clear, none of this is intended to suggest that the Vatican’s recalcitrance is entirely innocent of political motives, or that there aren’t good theological arguments for laicizing bishops. Those questions will be the object of much legitimate discussion for some time to come.

What the current fracas does illustrate, however, is that in trying to understand why the Church does what it does, it’s incumbent upon observers to take seriously its own inner logic. Otherwise, important pieces of the picture will forever remain out of focus. Applied to Lugo’s situation, the bottom line might well be: “It’s the theology, stupid.”

 

Teddy Bears optional

Okay, so here’s the trailer for the new film version of Brideshead Revisited which seems to make it all a heated power struggle between Lady Marchmain and Charles Ryder over something - which I suppose, at some level, it is, but really. It’s so histronic about something that simply doesn’t, as it ends up coming to us,  seem that interesting.

That’s what happens when you rip the guts out of something.

(I’m not saying the film does - obviously I’ve not seen it. But the trailer certainly gives that impression.)

(BTW - the actor who plays Charles Ryder- is it just me or does his voice sound so very much like Jeremy Irons’?)

Apart from everything else, I’d say that the major flaw of this film, again, just from the trailer, seems to be the casting. Emma Thompson is not grabbing me as Lady Marchmain and everyone else looks very ordinary and rather similar - not an interesting face among them.

A really, really short piece I wrote on Brideshead (540 words - almost as long as this blog post)..for Liguorian years ago.

(PLEASE don’t take the title of this post as indicative of a hankering for the teddy bear. It’s not.)

Stuff Catholics Like

Here -a group effort.

…and…Stuff Christians Like. 

It’s official

On his 75th birthday, Archbishop Harry Flynn has retired and his coadjutor, John Nienstedt, is the new Archbishop of Minneapolis-St. Paul.

(The other US hierarchy-related news this week was Wednesday’s long-awaited resignation of 63-year old Donald Pelotte of Gallup, who had been assaulted last year in a bizarre and confusing incident.)

 

 

Mary and the Christian Life

Mary and the Christian Life was published about two months ago, by Word Among Us Press. Bert Ghezzi, familiar to you as the author of many books on saints (including this very nice one - The Heart of a Saint: Ten Ways to Grow Closer To God), asked me to write it.

It’s a combination of a lot of things. Sort of like a typical blog post of mine. Scripture, history, tradition, odd and interesting facts, prayers and reflections, pulling it all together in a personal way. I cover the major events of Mary’s life, explore what we know about them, what our tradition says about them, and invite the reader to reflect on what these moments in Mary’s life say to us as disciples of Jesus.

You can read sample chapters here. (pdf)

Julie D at Happy Catholic has very nice things to say about the book.

Mike Aqulina, who graciously blurbed the book says some more nice things here.

You can listen to an interview about the book, with Frank Morock of the USCCB’s “Bookmarks” program here.

Another interview, with Kris and Bruce McGregor of KVSS in Omaha, is here (scroll down to 4/14)

Available most places, I think. My bookstore is here.

 

Bringing the Mass to the People

I found this little book in our stash. Neither of us can figure out its provenance, but here it is.

Published in 1960, written by the well-known figure in the U.S. Liturgical Movement, Fr. Hans Reinhold, the book is a slim (very slim) summary of where the liturgical movement stood at that point.

(I’m thinking I don’t have to do Liturgical Movement 101 for this crowd - not that I actually could, if pressed, but you probably know that modern, intentional liturgical “reform” didn’t begin with the end of the Second Vatican Council. For almost two hundred years, scholars and others had been thinking through liturgical issues, beginning with music in the early 19th century, with work done on Gregorian Chant. Fueled by the 19th century interest in history, in ancient origins of religious beliefs and practices, early documents such as sacramentaries and so on were the subject of new research. In the early 20th century, the Popes took an interest in liturgical spirituality, particularly Pius X and then, moving on, Pius XII, whose Mediator Dei functioned as a foundation of the thinking and work that accelerated after World War II.)

The goal was, in essence, bringing out the reality at the heart of the Mass so that the laity might spiritually benefit and that their relationship with Christ through the Eucharist might be nourished more directly and powerfully.

I think that probably is a decent, if basic summary of the basic intentions of the liturgical movment. Many other ideas and purposes flow from that. But I do think that the great concern (very evident if you read Mediator Dei) was that the laity come to understand and experience Christ in the Eucharist as the center of their spirituality. The thinking was that the shape of the Mass and the way it was celebrated and experienced in the 20th century obscured this. To understand this a little better, know the other dimension of the “liturgical movement” in the 20th century, other than what scholars and monasteries and some dioceses were doing in terms of reforming the Mass (using the vernacular and so on) was the move to bring laity to the Eucharist more knowledgeably and consciously.

So, for example, there were movements during the 20th century, before Vatican II, to increase the number of people receiving Communion - not by simply telling them to get up there and go, but by encouraging more frequent Confession. There was a great emphasis on helping the laity understand what was going on in Mass and connect with it directly. Missals - now allowed to offer vernacular translations of texts -  were very detailed. May books and booklets with this aim were published. Catechetical materials for children and young people devoted a great deal of space to this purpose. I have a couple of examples around here that I will try to scan sometime today, perhaps. Everyone from Ronald Knox to Romano Gauardini to Fulton Sheen was on the case. Oh, and Pius XII, too, in case you’ve forgotten.

So you’ve got two factors working here - connect the laity more consciously to Christ in the Eucharist - and take a look at the structure of the Mass from various perspectives.

Notice the absence of Freemasons.

I’m not saying that there weren’t people involved in the Liturgical Movement who had less than lofty motivations, skewed theologies,  or who were working from very flawed assumptions (and incomplete historical knowledge), but I think before you can discuss the liturgical movement, you really have to try to see it, as best we can, through their eyes. 

There was, indeed, a great deal missing from the equations they were constructing, which became abundantly clear later.  From the perspective of the present, we can look at some of what was proposed (and done) and say, “What were they thinking? ” But I’m saying that from my perspective of a half-century or more down the road, and it’s never fair to expect historical actors to have 20/20 hindsight.

Which actually, and finally, brings me to the book. It’s a really interesting little book, and easily available - AbeBooks turns up copies for under $5.00. In it, Reinhold gives a little background, then goes through the Mass and summarizes the major changes that were envisioned by the majority of scholars by 1960. His primary points of reference, aside from the scholarship of the time, were various 20th century papal encyclicals as well as the 1958 reforms of the Holy Week liturgies.  He does not take much time to discuss language because he assumes, I think, that replacing Latin with the vernacular most of the time was definitely on the way.

…as were the rest of the reforms. A blurb on the back from Jungmann says, “The book, concise and to the point, may be helpful in the task of preparing the Christian people for the reforms to come.”

What would this Mass look like? Essentially what we have now with a few particular exceptions and some general assumptions that definitely did not carry over, and did not even seem to last a decade.  Since I’m not that familiar with the pre-Vatican II Mass, it’s easier for me to discuss it by comparing it to what we have now, rather than what came before. (For example, he devotes several pages arguing against the double elevation, but I am not familiar with that, so I can’t discuss it.)

Entrance Rite: (Which is what he calls it - most the “parts” of the Mass, in his schema, have the names by which we call them today). Essentially the same except for Asperges and no Confiteor. The celebrant wears a cope, the other ministers, albs.

“Service of the Word” - Old Testament, Gradual, Epistle, Alleluia, Gospel, homily, “bidding prayers” Confiteor follows Bidding Prayers. By the way, the form of the Bidding Prayers offered by Reinhold is very Eastern in feel, which is interesting.

Offertory Rite: Credo. While Credo is being sung, altar prepared, ministers vest. Very stripped down offertory (this was one of the main objects of reform - the offertory, which was felt to be overextended). Silent prayers by celebrant, Offertory antiphon (or “other suitable song”)

Canon: Reformed Canon, audible, chanted, but only one. No other Eucharistic Prayers envisioned (at least here). Congregation stand except during Consecration.

Communion Rite: Lord’s Prayer, Kiss of Peace - using Pax tablets. Agnus Dei. Pretty extensive prepatory prayers from celebrant. Distribution of Communion (altar rail is mentioned). Various prayers. Dismissal.

Several points about this and the broader vision were quite interesting to me:

1) The various classifications of Masses remain - Solemn, Chanted, Low (of which there are two types - Recited, with vocal congregational participation, and Recited with no congregational participation.). Reinhold struggles with what to call Private Masses - he clearly sees the end of them in sight, but determines that as as long as they remain they might be called “devotional Masses.”

2) Reinhold, at least, does not state any sense of elimination of subclerical states with their specific roles in the Mass. He also holds up the continued role of the choir. In fact, he sees the quality of music during Mass as very important and sees congregational participation in music a good, but risky thing. For example, in speaking of the Gradual, Alleluia, Tract and Sequences, he writes:

They are elaborate compositions, both in their chant settings and in polyphony, and cannot, therefore, be sung congregationally. I think this is all to the good: a reflective mood should now settle over the congreationa as being now an audience, definitely receptive during the Service of the Word. Here they should be given a “break” in constant response and activity (quite apart from the fact that some phase of the service should be allotted to good music as such.)

Where a good schola is not available and the danger of mediocre or poor music exists, there is still the possibility of using a soloist, or psalmodic singing or recitation by a chorus, or of a choral hymn, which of course should conform to the minimal requirements for such hymns as expressed in the Instruction: It should be good musically; in content it should express teh thoughts and moods of the displaced texts; and it should be in the spirit of the season if not of the very texts which are read on this occasion.  (54)

I am not familiar with what was going on in the world of sacred music at the time, but from reading this, as well as other texts from the period, it seems to me that aside from the allowance of “other suitable songs,” these chants and other traditional musical elements of the Mass were envisioned to remain in a form largely in continuity with the past, perhaps in translation - but even that is not assumed.

3) Reinhold speaks strongly against “unauthorized experimentation” with the liturgy and seems to assume, based on the experience with the Holy Week Rites and what was happening in the Curia, that liturgical reform, when it came, was going to come from Rome (which it did, of course, but with many, many actors and forces involved). Of course this would be the assumption - no Council was on the horizon. I sometimes wonder how things might have gone differently if reform of the Mass had occurred without the Council happening. Do you know what I mean? Maybe not.

4) Reinhold’s summary of the purposes of a reform are not news to anyone familiar with the movement, but bear repeating in his own words: “The clearer the essential outline of the Mass becomes, the better.” “Since parish liturgy is for the parishioners, it should be made as lucid and simple as possilbe without oversimplifying its nature as a mystery…or losing its dignity, and its beauty”…”Empty and now meaningless rites, excessive allegorism, wordiness and foreign elements should be eliminated.”…”The structural lines and the main points of emphasis should be unmistakable…” “A maximum of participation should be made possible with a proper division of functions: the laity are no longer silent spectators, nor do they take over the role of any of the sacred ministers”….”…freeing the core of sacramental worship from all unncessary pomp…” “

5) But…note this prophetic passage:

There is serious danger of overshooting the aim, once one embarks on the exhilerating task of putting things in order. Room must be left for “solemnity,” to avoid triteness, a romantically conceived “evangelical simplicity,” formless individualism, or the victimizing of the congregation by a tasteless and uninspired mystagogue. All that is noble and dignified, all that rises above ephemeral inspiration, must be preserved. The Roman liturgy is magnanimous, solemn, sober and warm: it should never lose these qualities, even when carried out in the smallest chapel. (37)

Sigh.

The book ultimately left me with a feeling of “What were they thinking?” Easy for me to say, again, with the convenience of hindsight.

I mean…think of it this way. How could anyone think that taking an ancient form of the Mass and totally reforming it in a matter of less than a decade would not turn out to be problematic? Reinhold refers to it as a “thorough reconstruction.”  How could they not see that taking what Catholics had been taught was the “Mass of the Ages” and that in some way represented truths about their faith, not just in the content, but in the fact of its antiquity and universality and what those qualities expressed about the antiquity, solidity and universality of the faith itself…and then saying, “Oh, here’s a new one..” - how could they not see that as disruptive and a recipe for confusion?

It wasn’t, I know, a totally academic exercise. There had been experiments with reform and revision in various places, and perhaps the popularity of, for example, the Dialogue Mass, made people think that this would work just as they had envisioned.

I don’t know.

As I said - there are many points of this program I understand, intellectually. I can understand the intellectual direction of this, even as I disagree with some points of it. And there was, indeed, as I attempted to point out at the beginning of this post, a sense of liturgical reform in the air, even among the laity. But what I just can’t grasp is the blindness in two areas: pastoral blindness as to how a wholesale, complete and relatively fast-paced reform would impact people’s sense of the Church, how it might even cause them pain, and a kind of spiritual blindness that can’t see that there is a lot more to spiritual life and health that rational schemas, and that sometimes “lucidity” works to obscure, rather than reveal.

 

Update: Please check out Zadok’s post on this, in which he makes an excellent point:

Personally, I think the Church needs to engage with a number of issues. The question of a liturgical spirituality amongst the priests and the faithful needs to be tacked - the best way of avoiding the excesses (coming from both ends of the left/right spectrum) of archeologist, activism, hyper-traditionalism (Angry-Trad Syndrome), rubricism, anti-rubrisicm, etc… etc… is the nurturing of an authentic liturgical spirituality. Such a spirituality respects the liturgy and is formed by the liturgy, but is not blind to the social aspect of worship and the reciprocal relationship between the liturgy and the broader life of the Church.

Secondly, we have Marini’s account of how Bugnini et al ‘won’ the post-conciliar battle concerning the liturgical reform. We also have a number of strong critiques of the resultant liturgy. The missing part of the equation is an analysis of how the ‘traditionalists’ (for want of a better word) lost the battle against Bugnini. Objectively speaking, because they lost, we know that there was some political or intellectual or spiritual flaw in the case which they advanced or in the manner in which they pressed their case. An appreciation of the weaknesses and tactical failures which helped determine the course of events is essential if a New Liturgical Movement is to be built on a solid foundation.

P.S. - I found another one. It’s called The Mass of the Future, published in 1948,  and it’s fascinating. A little longer, but I’ll blog on it this weekend. If anyone has read it, let me know.

 

Update:  If anyone wants to take a quick look at the “deepen lay liturgical spirituality” end of the liturgical movement, the anthology Habits of Devotion is an excellent place to start.

A Personal Message from Me to…

…the USPS employee or contracted worker located somewhere between northern Indiana and Nashville, TN.

Ahem.

I think I’ve figured it out. I think I see where you were coming from.

There you were, unloading or loading a truck, or maybe guiding packages down a belt or something and you see this fairly good-sized box. It’s marked “media mail” so maybe you thought, “Ah-ha! DVD’s! Video games! A box full of ‘em!”

So then you took out the box-cutter you’ve got on hand for just these occasions, slit the bottom of the box, let the contents fall into whatever bag you’ve also got on hand for just these occasions, whistled and waited for the next box.

I suppose you really didn’t actually have a chance to handle the box and see that it weighed a lot more than it would if it were, indeed, filled with DVD’s or games.

Because, in fact, it was filled with,you know, books.

And speaking of books, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THOSE 40 COPIES OF PROVE IT CHURCH MEANT FOR KIDS BEING CONFIRMED ON FRIDAY  IN NASHVILLE. I PARTICULARLY HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THEIR LITTLE NAMES INSCRIBED IN EACH BOOK.

Yeah. Enjoy. And while you’re at it, prove this.

(Okay, okay. Here’s hoping the criminal, upon opening the stash of 40 stolen books about God takes it as a message and changes his or her ways. There’s a purpose for everything. Got it.)

(And yes, it was insured. And yes, the box was indeed delivered empty, with the bottom neatly slit open.)

Lucia

Last night, I finished Lucia: A Venetian Life in the Age of Napoleon, which was an excellent way to spend time.

It’s the story of the author’s great-great-great-great grandmother, born into one of the ruling Venetian families, married into another. He’s able to tell the story in great detail because Lucia and those to whom she wrote kept most of their correspondence (even her philandering husband kept all of the little love notes penned by his paramours) and she was a committed and observant correspondent. Rather astonishing.

Through Lucia, we see the fortunes - rather misfortunes of Venice during the years of constant war between Napoleon and everyone else, a period in which the fading Venetian Republic finally collapsed, was defeated and occupied by either the French or the Austrians for a very long time.  We get insight into medical practices as Lucia struggles with miscarriages, pregnancy, and illness, agriculture as her husband tries to create a model, progressive community on the mainland, and, of course into politics. Because of the intimate nature of the letters, we even get some insight into her spiritual growth - Mass attendance is duly noted, but also noted is a period in which Lucia decides she really wants to know more about her faith:

Lucia ordered The Life of Jesus from a bookshop in Milan, and she and Alvisetto (her son) curled up together in bed every evening to read three chapters of the big volume. ‘I’m finding this book very useful. I had never read the life of Jesus as a whole but only in bits and pieces. In fact, what I knew of it usually came form the study of paintings and sculptures when we were young.’  (200)

 Lucia is a Venetian, but her travels - mostly because of her husband, but not always - take her to other points in Italy, Vienna and, for a good bit of time, Paris. For a time she served as a lady-in-waiting to Princess Augusta-Amelia (wife of Prince Eugene, Viceroy of the Kingdom of Italy) in Milan, and her accounts of the tedium of the position are amusing but rather sad.

She and her husband never have a surviving child together, but they each have illegitimate children, with the sone Lucia had with her Irish lover serving in the Austrian army eventually adopted by her husband as his heir.

I read a book like this and I keep trying to imagine it as historical fiction, and all I can think of how it would be mucked up by most attempts, which would undoubtedly manage to work in all sorts of anachronisms in terms of Lucia’s emotional, social and intellectual life. This was far better - Robilant does a marvelous job of introducing us to his ancestor whose late nights scratching out letter after letter to her sister, her son, her husband and others end up providing us with a gift - the gift of a window into a past age, in through which we can see how much we have - and haven’t - changed.