It's alive, IT'S ALIVE!

For anyone reading this post, all you have to do is look at the next most recent post to see that it dates from Christmas of 2012.  What happened?  Well, in 2013 a number of things happened.  As you recall, Pope Francis was elected, and what seemed like a new springtime for tradition in the Church became a time of questions and unease.  In 2013 I also became a pastor for the first time at St. Mary of the Purification in Mount Forest, Ontario, and found that my time was much more limited, particularly my first year of settling into the new role.  Around that time too, blogs began to transform from something everyone did to professional blogs with multiple writers, while everyone else was posting on Twitter and other forms of social media.  Nowadays, of course, most younger people are on TikTok, and the visual medium has taken over for them, others are producing podcasts, and everyone else is still on social media. 

So why have a revived a nine-year-old blog that hardly anyone remembers, and hardly anyone read in the first place, especially since I'm on social media, and have my own fledgling podcast?  Just because, because in my current role I do have time to produce some extra content each week, because it's nice to have a little outlet for my thoughts and musings, and because if my thoughts and reflections help even a single person in their spiritual lives, to grow in their faith, to find their way to the Catholic faith, or just to find some hope in knowing that someone out there does think they way they do and they are not alone, it is worth it.

I doubt I will be able to post daily content like most of the professional blogs, but hopefully, in the midst of everything I can find the time to put up a couple of posts each week, so check back for more new content, here on Great and Glorious!

A Rant, Because It's My Blog - For Crying Out Loud Catholics, Celebrate Halloween!

I'm not sure when this trend started, I remember it beginning at least a decade ago, or perhaps a little before, this apparent aversion Catholics have to Halloween.  I should say the aversion that seems to be present among some circles of Catholics, an almost fundamentalist approach to what is essentially a Catholic holiday.  Instead of the traditional costumes and images of ghouls and goblins, we have to dress children up in saintly costumes, and call the day "All Saints' Eve".  Even though the term "All Hallows' Eve" means precisely the same thing.  I remember during my highschool years, the first "All Saints" party held in my home parish, where ghoulish costumes were verboten, and only saintly attire was permitted.  I also remember one occasion during my university days when I was visiting one of my favourite Christian bookstores on October 31st, and a delivery man had just dropped off a shipment to the young woman working the checkout counter.  As he was about to depart he wished her a "Happy Halloween", and in a very indignant fashion she responded, "I'm Catholic, I don't celebrate Halloween, I celebrate All Saints' Day."  I'm sorry but, give me a break! 

Halloween is as Catholic a day as they come.  It originated in Irish popular piety as a day to recall the reality of Hell.  Thus, Halloween is, say it with me now: SUPPOSED TO BE SCARY.  It is a day to remember the sad fate of the souls of the damned, and that Hell is a real possibility for all of us, unless we strive to enter by the narrow door.  The earliest celebrations of "All Hallows" began in the 300s, but was celebrated in May, on May 13th in fact, the day it is still observed in some Eastern Churches.  It was transferred to November 1st in 844 when Pope Gregory III consecrated a chapel in St. Peter's Basilica to All Saints.  It has NOTHING TO DO with a druid harvest festival.  There is no agreement among scholars that the pope consciously transferred the feast to "baptize" the pagan festival of Samhain, and the idea that the pope would transfer a feast of the Universal Church for the sake of a small group of pagans at the edge of the world seems to me to be rather far fetched.  The appropriation of Halloween by pagans is a modern innovation, not extending any further back than the late 19th century. 

It is quite true that the celebration of Halloween has become as much secularized as many other Christian feasts, Christmas being chief among them, and so dressing up children in secular costumes like Justin Bieber or Lady Gaga, frightening as that may be, is not the true intention of Halloween either.  But to dress children up as saints for this day also misses the entire point of this particular observance.  We honour the saints tomorrow on November 1st, we remember the souls in Purgatory the following day on November 2nd, but this day, October 31st is to remind us that there is a third possibility for us after we die, one we should avoid at all costs.  

I'm going to step out on a limb here, I hope you'll join me, I'm going to suggest that ignoring the true heritage of Halloween plays right into the Modernist ideals that have infected the Church over the past decades.  Today we only talk about heaven, a great many Catholics don't even have a concept of Purgatory or the need to pray for the dead any more.  The generally accepted idea is that when we die, we all go up to heaven, no stops along the way, and you really don't even need to be that holy, as long as you're a good enough person, it's a free pass right upstairs.  This is totally at odds with Sacred Tradition and the teaching of Our Lord in Sacred Scripture.  Nonetheless, good Catholics seem to be playing right along, and ignoring the teachings of our Church on the Last Things.  Halloween is not about the saints, that is for tomorrow, today is a day to remind ourselves, and catechize our children, that Hell is a reality, and it is something we need to strive to avoid by living lives that are truly Holy!

Further reading:
http://www.zenit.org/article-35858?l=english
http://www.fisheaters.com/customstimeafterpentecost12aa.html
http://www.wordonfire.org/WoF-Blog/WoF-Blog/October-2012/Culture--Time-for-Catholics-to-Embrace-Halloween.aspx
 

The Year of Faith Begins

Today inaugurates the Year of Faith called for by Pope Benedict.  It also marks the 50th anniversary of the opening of the Second Vatican Council in 1962.  It's often said that the Church works in centuries, so we just have 50 more years to go until the Council is properly understood and properly implemented, right?  Perhaps.  Of course at this point in the Church there still rages the debates of the proper interpretation of the Council, with those on one side arguing for the "spirit" of the Council to be held in higher regard than the actual words of the documents.  On the other we have those who would even doubt the validity of the Council.  The truth as it always is, is of course somewhere in the middle.  Unless one has one's head in the sand, it's not hard to see that the process of change and growth in understanding of the Council is still ongoing.  Many younger clergy, religious, and laity are studying the documents thoroughly, through the lense of "continuity" as our Holy Father has called for, and working for a balanced understanding of the Council; working to correct many of the extreme responses (on both sides) that have taken place over the last 50 years (though I must acknowledge, the majority of the extreme responses do seem to have been to one direction over the other).  We pray that this ongoing process of renewal continues, under the inspiration and prayers of Blessed Pope John Paul II, and Pope Benedict.

As depicted above, the CCCB has issued a pastoral letter marking this auspicious occasion entitled, The Second Vatican Council: What was it and why is it important today?  The article on the document can be found here, and the document itself can be found here.  I'd like to offer some of my thoughts on this pastoral letter.  First of all, my kudos to the authors of the document for many of the fine points it makes, especially with regard to the proper interpretation of the Council:

"We see good fruit, however, where the Council is understood properly. This has been strongly emphasized by Pope Benedict XVI, who has pointed out that Vatican II, rather than being an event of 'discontinuity and rupture' with the Church before the Council, is to be viewed in continuity with the Church before it. It was not a break, but an act of reform. For this reason, we do not reject what came before the Council as being outdated, nor do we consider all that came after as inconsistent with the Church’s Tradition.  Moreover, we cannot appeal to the 'spirit' of the Council as if this were opposed to the 'letter' of the Council’s documents. The Church that existed before Vatican II is the same Church we belong to today. Yet it is also true that things did change after the Council."

"Rather than making the Church worldly or 'modern,' the Council’s job was something else entirely: it was 'to overcome erroneous or superfluous contradictions in order to present to our world the requirement of the Gospel in its full greatness  and purity.'"

The letter describes what a Council is, and a bit of the background to why Blessed Pope John XXIII called the Council in the first place.  My critique of this letter comes though in what is has to say, or doesn't say about the four Constitutions of the Council.  The paragraph on the Liturgy, I think, sadly misses the mark.  It does speak about some concerns with the liturgy before the Council, such as a lack of understanding of Latin by the laity (which is easily resolved through the use of a bilingual hand missal), and the hurried celebration by many priests (a genuine problem, but not the worst liturgical abuse out there, especially considering what came after the Council).  As always it emphasizes the "full, conscious, and active participation" of the laity, but fails to explain that this paragraph is to be interpreted primarily as interior participation, not exterior.  This paragraph also extols the near universal use of the vernacular, something not called for in Sacrosanctum Concilium.  Finally the paragraph seems to point out that the liturgy is a constantly changing thing, perhaps to justify the liturgical changes since the Council.  It fails to note however, that for 1500 years any structural changes to the liturgy were relatively minor, and the wholesale recreation of the liturgy following the Council is not called for in any of the documents.

As for images of the Church, triumphalism is bad, but I'd take a little triumphalism over the mistaken notion that so many Catholics have today, that the Catholic faith is just one among many.  With respect to the Universal Call to Holiness, it is true that some before the Council didn't understand this notion, but this idea did not begin with Vatican II, it is present in the preaching of saints down through the centuries even into the 20th century itself (it's a central feature of the preaching of St. Josemaria Escriva for one).  As for the paragraph on Salvation, again it seems to imply that the understanding that non-Christian religions have some value for evangelization was a brand new idea at Vatican II.  Someone might want to tell that to those who evangelized Asia and used their native religions and the truths found therein as their starting point.

There is much more that I could critique, but this article is getting too long already.  Once again I'd like to offer grateful thanks for the emphasis on the fact that we must understand the Second Vatican Council in light of the 1900 years that went before it.  Sadly though, the first part of the document seems largely to follow the theme that the Church began in 1962 with all of these new ideas, and so seems to contridict the latter half.  On the whole, worth a read as we begin this year of faith, but it should be an invitation to read the documents themselves and see what the Council really had to say.

The Spirit of Detachment

As I approach my final day here in my current assignment I have been experiencing many endings.  There was my final homily last weekend, my farewell reception this coming weekend, dismantling my office and room to pack up.  Of course there are the very personal goodbyes as well, saying farewell to the parishioners, the staff, and those with whom I have worked closely while here in Guelph.  I'll admit, that I did get a little choked up trying to get my farewell message out the first time last weekend.  As I meet for the final time with certain individuals such as those for whom I have been providing spiritual direction, there is certainly a touch of sadness.  I'm reminded of a line from the prayers of final commendation from the Order of Christian Funerals (which I have just had to dig out of the box in which it was already packed to find the quote), "there is sadness in parting, but we take comfort in the hope that one day we shall see him again and enjoy his friendship."

Sadness in parting is very much a part of the human journey, as we form bonds and connections with those with whom we journey in this 'valley of tears', bonds which inevitably come to an end.  This morning though it also got me thinking about the spiritual nature of detachment.  There are many walks of life in which one is called upon to 'move on', and certainly the role of the diocesan priest is to be a pilgrim, never staying too long in one place, and in that too there is a witness to a deeper spiritual reality.  Some years ago I and friend of mine were speaking to a young seminarian in his first year about the notion of detachment, because of the very transitive nature of the ministry of the parish priest.  This seminarian was a little shocked, and thought we were talking about a very cold and distant approach to the people, that one couldn't be friendly with anyone because one day you would have to leave.  Of course that is not what we meant at all, we were talking about detachment.  Perhaps to explain a little better I might show off my geek credentials and quote from Anakin Skywalker as he describes love in the life of a Jedi, "Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. Compassion -- which I would define as…unconditional love -- is essential to a Jedi's life. So, you might say that we are encouraged to love."

The life and ministry of the parish priest really is meant to show that same idea.  We are not bound to poverty, but we are encouraged to live simply without the need for many possessions, we don't have a family of our own, and as I have already mentioned, we don't normally stay too long in any one place, in fact today, a dozen years in one parish is becoming a rare thing.  As Christians, the one and only thing we need is God alone, indeed those true saints (if we are fortunate enough to encounter one in this life) have almost an other worldly quality about them, because the have all they need and desire in God.  Most of us who have not advanced to the heights of sanctity continue to develop attachments to things and people of this world.  Don't get me wrong, it a natural part of life that we form these attachments, but as Christians we are called to that higher calling to find all we need and desire in God alone.  Some months ago I shocked someone as I was teaching about Purgatory, that one of its purposes was to rid us of our attachments to the people and things of this world to prepare us for Heaven.  She couldn't believe it, the fact that she would one day have to detach herself from her husband and family in order to go to God unfettered.

Here is the rub, that just as Anakin Skywalker said, we are encouraged to love, but we are encouraged to do so in an unselfish way, to trust in God's providential care for everyone and everything, and not to make anyone or anything our own personal possession.  Any selfish attachments we have to creatures means our love for our Creator becomes divided.  We are encouraged to love, but to do it unselfishly, to grow daily in our charity, our compassion, and to remember that everything and everyone in our lives is a gift from God, and belongs to God alone.  We must never forget that all we ever need is God alone.

Sunday Homily - Seek First the Kingdom of God

“Holiness”, it's one of those words that we hear so often in religious contexts, at Church, in homilies, that it begins to lose its meaningfulness.  It's also one of those words, one of those ideas, which just seems to be for someone else.  We can look at the example of so many of the saints and think, “holiness is not for me, I couldn't possibly be a saint like those others.”  This idea, that holiness is for someone else, is not a new one, it has been a part of our consciousness for a long time, in fact if you ask someone of an older generation, particularly a priest who was ordained before the Second Vatican Council, they could tell you that there used to be different levels of holiness, or so it was thought. 

It used to be understood that there were three levels of holiness, at the top of the list were the monks and nuns, the ones who lived in the monasteries and convents, cloistered away from the rest of the world, who spent their entire day praying and working, it was just assumed that they were automatically at the top of the holiness list.  Second came the secular or diocesan priests, they live and work in the world, but because they are in close contact with holy things, the Sacraments, and were schooled in prayer and theology, they were thought to be second on the holiness list.  Finally at the bottom of the list came everyone else, who couldn’t possibly ascend to the levels of holiness occupied by those at the top of the list.

This idea that “holiness is for someone else” has been challenged in the last few decades by a teaching, often called the “Universal Call to Holiness”, it teaches that holiness is for everyone, not just a select few, that we are all called to be saints, and not just after we die, but right here and right now.  This teaching is a very ancient one, if we look to many of the writings of St. Paul, we find that he refers to the Christians in the communities to which he is writing as “Saints”.  Of course someone could raise the objection, “but what about all the Canonized Saints, they’re all priests and religious, where are all the laypeople?”  Well, certainly there are many laypeople among the list of Canonized Saints, though sadly we don’t hear too much about them.

Then there’s the second argument, “of course there are more priests and religious who are saints, it’s easier for them.  Priests and religious don’t have the same cares and concerns as everyone else.  The monks in the monastery have a place to live, their meals are provided for them, they have their habits to wear, and even their days is worked out for them, they have time to work, and lots of time to pray.  The priests may be working in the world looking after the parish and the needs of the people, but they still have their rectory provided, bills are paid, and they don’t even have to worry about what to wear in the morning, they just wear the same uniform every day.  For the rest of us, we just don’t have time to pray.”  This, my friends, is what our gospel is all about today.

In our gospel today, our Lord challenges us about where our priorities should be.  He says to “first seek the kingdom of God, and his righteousness” and all of our other needs will be cared for by our Father in heaven.  It’s an invitation to examine our priorities, to see if God occupies the first place in our life, and a challenge to grow in our faith, if we don’t believe that God will provide for our needs.  As we begin our examination, it might we worthwhile first, to look at our cares and concerns and worries, and see which ones are real concerns, because so often we simply manufacture cares and concerns for ourselves.

Perhaps I could offer a practical example, though a bit of an absurd one.  Not all that long ago there was a commercial on television; I believe it was for a laundry detergent.  The commercial featured a girl, who spent the length of the commercial complaining about the fact that she had to wear her older sister’s hand-me-down jeans, instead of the nice new pair.  Is this a real concern, or a manufactured one?  I’m sure we could come up with many other examples to illustrate the point, but it is worth it to look at all of the things about which we spend time worrying, and see just how many of them are manufactured worries, ones that we create for ourselves.

Then of course, what about those genuine worries, the real needs, putting food on the table, mortgage payments, car payments; the authentic necessities.  Our Lord invites us to lay them at his feet, and don’t worry about them.  Allow me to offer another short story to illustrate this point.  There was a young man who was a couple of years behind me in the seminary.  He realized that he was not going to be able to cover his costs to continue his studies (as we progressed in the seminary the diocese would cover more and more of our costs, but at the beginning we would have to pay our entire tuition and some other fees).  He could have started worrying, fretted about finding a second or third job over the summer in order to pay for his studies, but what did he do?  He prayed, he essentially said, “God, if you want me to be a priest, I need to study in the seminary, but I can’t afford to study in the seminary, so if you want me to be a priest, you need to handle this situation.”  Low and behold, a donation came in which covered his costs and he was able to continue.

Naturally, we must be ready to accept that from time to time, we may pray for something, and not get it, God may be telling us that what we think is a need, isn’t one, it’s a want, but if we rely on him, he will always give us what we truly need.

Our Lord invites us, through our gospel today to focus on what is truly necessary, to make God, his kingdom, and his righteousness to be our first priority.  He invites us to place our needs at his feet and know that he will take care of them.  If we do so, if we make prayer and holiness our first priority and leave the rest to God, then we will begin to see saints among us, we will begin to see holiness all around us.  Holiness will no longer be for someone else, somewhere else, it will no longer be only for those who have “the time” to pray, but it will be for each and every one of us, right here, and right now.

The Last Week of Advent - December 18th

Today our gospel passage introduces us to St. Joseph.  St. Joseph, it tells us, was a righteous man.  St. Matthew's audience was primarily Jewish, and they would have understood that term in its proper context.  To be righteous meant to carry out the law of Moses fully and faithfully, and that his life was judged to be pleasing to God.  Our gospel though, goes beyond, and tells us that not only was St. Joseph a righteous man, but he was a holy man as well.  If he were perfectly observant of the law, he would have been well within his rights to expose Mary to public humiliation perhaps even to stoning when he found her to be pregnant, and knew that he was not the father.  His concern however was not for his own wounded pride, his concern was for Mary, and so he planned to dismiss her quietly.  This humility, this concern for Mary's well being over his own, shows forth that deeper holiness, a holiness no doubt born from a deep life of prayer, which is probably why St. Joseph not only recognized God's word in the dream, but carried it out without question.  We too are called not just to live out the externals of faith, but to true interior holiness, a holiness that looks to the good of others over ourselves, a holiness born out of a real prayerful relationship with God.  St. Joseph was not a rabbi, not a religious scholar, he was a carpenter, a working man.  Prayer is not just for priests and monastics, it is for all of us, to grow in our relationship with God.