Alone At the Foot of the Cross

I have no vocation. 

It hit me last night that I'm running around looking for something that simply isn't there for me. There is no call.  I've been foolishly looking at my summer months of unemployment, looking for a job that will both allow me to pay my bills and maybe go visit a community.  On whose dime, I don't know. 

And I'm tired. I've done everything I can, I've been in contact with specific communities, I've tried to visit...nothing works out. And I certainly can't just leave the state when I haven't the gas money to even cross the border between Minnesota and Wisconsin!  

I was so excited to hear from the Passionists, but since then...nothing.  Someone I know who discerned them said they were quick on responses.  Apparently not for me.  

I have a theory:  there are an awful lot of permanently-single people out there.  Perhaps we were called to marriage, but the one God intended for us was aborted. 

The fact is that each soul that comes into being does so, called from eternity, to fulfill a certain mission within a certain vocation.  Unfortunately, through the widespread slaughter of innocents that has taken place in America alone since 1973, clearly those of us who have survived are left facing a void.  There's someone that's supposed to be in our lives...but isn't.  

Do you know one of the reasons divorce is so high?  People are getting married to those never intended for them.   They're seeking the consolation prize, and it's not working out for any of them.  

And maybe that's it. Maybe that's what God has been trying to get through to me.  Maybe His original intention was  for me to get married, but then Margaret Sanger came along and advocated his foul, bloody murder.  

Maybe my original sense was the true one; that I am called to be single.  I'm not interested in a "consolation prize".  Maybe it's my role to remain in isolation at the foot of the Cross, perpetually single, without a vocation.  Because that's a special kind of suffering, something to be offered in reparation for all the lives taken through abortion.  Tears to be shed for those so traumatized they can't cry on their own, but instead rage against the truth for fear they'll finally understand what they've done.   Begging for mercy for those who refuse to ask for themselves. Praying for a world that refuses to pray.  

I'm not interested in being a hermit. I looked into it.  Not interested. 

But for now, I'm going to stop hoping for a response that never comes, I'm going to stop trying to figure out how to visit a community when the reality is that I need to live my life as it is, not one that isn't waiting for me and doesn't seem to know I exist. 

Jesus is right here. He is present in my life. I can go to Mass every day, I can go to Adoration.  I don't need to don a habit and a veil and live with a bunch of other women in order to be holy.  I need to stand right here at the foot of the cross and offer up the misery of the world in the only way I know how. 

I'm sorry to be a disappointment to you.  But I've stated over and over again that even I don't know how this ends and you shouldn't assume you do know.  

Closing comments as I don't need or want advice. 

Scandal

When people hear the word "scandal", they think of some bit of juicy titillating gossip about a political figure or celebrity, and enjoy the sense of feigned "shock" followed by the ripple effect of articles and photos and water cooler discussions brought up by the event which might not even be true.  

Our Canon Law professor told us last weekend that there are some canonists who don't understand the meaning of the word, and will argue that extramarital affairs and liturgical abuses don't cause scandal anymore becuase no one is surprised when those things happen.  In other words, those who are supposed to know better are defining "scandal" as "entertaining, exhilierating, titillating, shocking and newsworthy."  

What idiocy. 

Scandal is now, in the context of canon law and moral theology EXACTLY what it has ALWAYS been!  It is a stumbling block. 

Scandal is defined as something that leads others to sin.  That's why scandal itself is a sin. 

For example, if I take a youth group into a store and I steal a pack of gum, I've just caused scandal. Whether those kids know it or not, they've been scandalized because my action, coming from being a person who should be a moral leader, has now given legitimacy to the sin of theft. 

Does that mean they'll automatically go out and steal gum?  No. 

But I can think of times in my own life where people I looked to as a moral example did or said something wrong, and because they did so, it made me think the action was ok. And then I committed the same thing.  That doubles the sin;  not only did the person who gave example commit an objective sin, but by their example they led me to do the same.  That's scandal. 

Practical Application

I look around at certain "journalistic" rags (both religious and secular) and there, I read only scandal. Not because I'm tempted, but because others are. And THAT leads me to an entirely different sin of calumny and detraction against the reporters, the writers, the average uniformed "Catholics" writing letters fraught with heretical ideas. 

 Scandal. 

I look around at the blogosphere which at least is honest in that the individual authors tend to proclaim their bias and don't pretend to be "balanced" - but there is much scandal there as well. For there are more than a few blogs I can no longer follow because all I see there is pride, calumny, detraction, anger, attack...etc.  All things that are not properties belonging to holiness.  

If I can't look at someone or their writings and see holiness, then it's time to walk away. Because if I give in to taking up anger and detraction, well, that's a scandal. 

It means that the person writing those inflammatory words is causing scandal, because by his or her example, I am being led into the same sin they possess.  I've found over and over again that when I read snark, I become snarky, and if I get snarky and make it public, it makes other people snarky, too. 

That's scandal.  

Now, there is a line; we CAN be critical of things that are unjust or need to be corrected.  Pointing out a public wrong doesn't automatically mean the person commenting on it is causing scandal or adding to it. It's all in how it's done.

That's why truth in journalism is so important, why truth in blogging is so important.  We're human. We're going to be biased, we're going to have opinions, and often we are going to be quite passionate about those opinions. But that doesn't mean we have to cause scandal in our passion.  

I've had a lot of posts that have "magically" disappeared over the last few years, and I'll have more as I go through my archives, or as I write when maybe I'm a bit too inflamed to do so.  

The reason many of those posts disappear is because I judge them to be scandalous;  either because they contain misinformation which has come to my attention, they are uncharitable (thus scandalous), or maybe they are simply mean-spirited.  

The example we set as Christians makes a difference.  If X person who claims to be a good Christian has this biting, snarky commentary, it must be ok to respond in that manner and poke fun at someone who is ignorant of our beliefs.  If popular X person gives an example of ridicule, then it becomes ok for the rest of us to follow that example, because...hey!  X person is popular so his or her opinion must mean a great deal more and if they do it, then we can, too. 

False logic.

The fact is that someone who exhibits the above behaviors is causing scandal; they are leading others into sin. 

And yes, I've done it.  

I do it all the time, and I am sincerely sorry for leading others to enter with me into such sins.  I pray God have mercy on those I mislead and instead place their punishment upon my shoulders, which would be just.  If I have scandalized, it is I who should suffer for it, for I have a greater duty. 

Sometimes it's hard, though, to know when someone has caused scandal.  Snarky humor can be fun, and it can be innocent and poking humorous criticism at serious issues may be a good way to bring correction.  Yet, so often, there is a mean spirit involved.  We have to evaluate...are we making a personal attack?  Are we singling anyone out?  

Is the person we are reading being a jerk or is their humor honest and innocent of malicious intent? Are they leading us to denigrate something or someone in an unjust manner? In an unholy manner?  

What response does their example cause in us?  Does it incite us to our own rants, make us dredge up old offenses and anger...or do we simply laugh at truthful humor and move on? 

Is there darkness in our laughter or is there the guilty pleasure that comes with that which is illicit if not fatal?  

In looking at all this,  in pondering it, I consider my "ranting" posts, and I wonder at whether charity is present.  There are some rants I've written out of pure humor, albeit with a biting style.  And even though I don't feel anger or bitterness, often that does come through because it's truly the way, culturally, I've learned to express critical humor.  And that, even without intent, may be scandalous. 

I wonder at my previous posts, knowing that it's important to address what is problematic, but I knew that there would be those who might arrive and begin to air their own liturgical complaints.  That has happened...the keyword "liturgy" always attracts people with grievances.

Is that scandalous?  Am I responsible for the most bitter among us who are in need of healing but can't seem to find their way out of the darkness so that healing can take place?  Am I making their situation worse?  

These are things I consider. 

Recently, at Crescat's blog, I received a nomination for "Best Spiritual Treat Blog" and I wonder if I should decline the nomination itself.  

I love what she's doing, I love her blog, and I've recommended her to others.  I love her humor, her truthfulness of who she is and who  she claims to be, and totally identify with her.  

But...how can I be a spiritual treat if I'm as snarky as the next guy?  How does that lead others to holiness?

The reality is that here, I don't have a specific agenda.  Maybe evangelization, maybe just sharing my faith because I know there are others who need to know they are not alone.  Maybe revealing moments of piety juxtaposed with the majority moments of sin.  

I'm not a "Spiritual Treat".  You're not going to come to my blog and see a perfect exudation of holiness.  It simply isn't present.  I'm just a sinner in need of salvation. Awards won't change that fact.  If someone thinks I'm anything close to a Saint, well...they've never met one.  I spend most of my time causing scandal, actually. 

And if I could truly see the impact of my life on others, I'd drop in my tracks and die. For I've lead far more souls into sin than I have been able to point to salvation.  And as for myself...I wallow in sin.  It covers me. The second I leave the Confessional, I'm back to my regular charms, which aren't charming at all.  

My biggest hobby, truthfully speaking:  offending God. I go out of my way to offend Him, and then say to myself that it wasn't my intent, no matter how willful my act.  

Please don't load my combox with a bunch of platitudes of how great I art.  I don't need that nor want it. I NEED to understand the harm I've caused, I NEED to see very clearly the effects of sin, both in recognizing how others have lead ME to sin, and how I have lead others. That's important. 

We ALL cause scandal. All of us. We all lead others to sin. 

But my hope is here:  God NEVER reveals sin without revealing His mercy.  

I weep in gratitude that God can see my scandalous life and offer me His pierced hand anyway, so that when He is raised up, I am drawn to Him.  

Therin is the scandal of the Cross. The ultimate juxtaposition.  Such an event that makes us see how so great a fault that we possess can warrant us so great a Redeemer is beyond our comprehension.  

The fact is that Jesus Christ reaches His bloody hands out to us, in forgiveness and sacrificial love, bringing our scandalized souls into Him through scandal personified.  

Therin is His Glory. 

I have nothing to offer Him but scandal, for I not only sin, but lead others to do so as well. When I approach Him, I bring not only myself, but all those who have been wounded or killed by my actions.  

Scandal. 

And then He is so generous that at the very revelation of my sorrow, He erases my guilt and restores me to His side, hiding me within His Most Sacred Heart. 

And we are all scandalized by such great generosity. 

Truly...none of us understands scandal, for it is through scandal that we fall, and in gratitude of scandal that we might enjoy eternal life with Christ.  

I will go on, pondering scandal, for even now, I don't understand...

*

Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner....

 

Here We Go Again...

I've decided to reiterate my previous point and strip all the theatrics so that you can clearly see the actual point being made. Sometimes theatrics are entertaining, but if it's overdone, it obscures the importance of the real message.  

So:  

If you are invited to someone's home and you're told that you'll be eating steak, you expect a nice steak with all the trimmings.  Even if the trimmings aren't perfect, you expect them.  What you get is pureed steak in a plastic cup. It tastes like steak, and you partake in it, but when you leave, you say to yourself or others with you, "Well, it was still steak, right?  What's the difference how it's served?"   

Same thing: 

When you go to Mass, you expect a proper Mass, celebrated according to the GIRM, with all the proper elements, nothing added, nothing removed. A proper Mass.  Because that's your RIGHT as a Catholic, is to experience the Sacraments with the proper and reverent preparation.  

But if you're leaving Mass and you're saying to people, "But, Christ was still present, right?  The Sacrament was valid, right?  It's still Jesus...", well, then something is wrong.  

As our professor pointed out, NEVER in the 2,000+ year history of the Catholic Church have statements like that EVER been made.  That should make the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.  

If you're making those comments either after your own experience or in a response to a legitimate complaint of someone else who maybe realized the music had heretical lyrics, well...then what you've just had is the spiritual equivalent of a pureed porterhouse steak.  

In making those comments, you're recognizing a deprivation.  Something was supposed to be there...but isn't. 

Is the essence there?  Sure.  But...in the case of the dinner, did you really get the entire experience of the steak and what it's really about?  No. 

In the Mass that you leave trying to justify whether Christ was really present or not...what you're saying is that somehow, you've been deprived of what the Mass is and you didn't get to experience the entire reality of the Paschal Mystery. Even if what you did receive was truly the Body, Blood, Soul, Divinity of Christ.   Somehow, you were deprived of some of the grace that SHOULD have been available to you because someone didn't do their job to properly dispose you and everyone else there to be sure you all really understood what this great Mystery is all about.  

Was it valid?  Sure. But were you able to fully experience all the available graces, or was a GIRM-breaking Mass celebrated that deprived you of the full experience?  Pureed steak. 

Don't settle for pureed steak.  

That's all I'm sayin'.  

Oh, and if you're a priest..the Mass doesn't belong to you. It belongs to the Church. Don't serve your children pureed steak when you can provide them with a perfectly grilled porterhouse and all the things that make that porterhouse stand out that much more.  

And everyone...pray for priests, especially those who might not have been properly formed.  Be reverent towards them remembering who they represent, but remember you have the right in charity to make your needs known.  Just don't be a jerk about it. 

*

But...!

This weekend at class, our professor gave us a GREAT analogy, after he pointed out to us that something is happening today that has never happened in the HISTORY of the Church.

When there is something NEW after over 2,000 years, well, maybe we should take notice. After all, most heresies are not actually new and innovative; they're just rehashings of of the old tired stuff like gnosticism and pelagianism.

What am I talking about?

Is there anyone who HASN'T heard the following phrases or related variations?

"It's still the Mass."

"It's still valid".

"Jesus is still present."  

"No matter what happens, it's still the Lord."

 Can you BELIEVE the excuses given for what people CLEARLY know is wrong?

Our professor wasn't attacking liturgy. He wasn't attacking anyone. He was only pointing out a discrepancy that we've all been lulled to accept.  

I'm the one making it polemical. He didn't. But it's my blog, and I feel like being controversial, and I don't have to worry about accreditation, so here I go: The Rant is ON! 

I don't know about the rest of you, but it seems that whenever someone politely and specifically points out issues that are contrary to the GIRM or, maybe to music being used in the Mass that is not liturgical or maybe is outright heretical, someone comes along and says, "But...it's still Jesus on the altar."  

(Note the prefacing and self-effacing term..."but".  "But" is ALWAYS  a term that denotes a change in direction.  And in this case, it's directing a change against faithfulness to Canon Law, which is what the GIRM IS!) 

Moving on...

Maybe you're having a polite (really!) discussion with someone about the fact that Haugen-Haas-S-guy is the dominating voice of God in the liturgy these days, even though their music, at best, only paraphrases the psalms and often contradicts Catholic theology outright.  And maybe you grumble a little that "Soon and Very Soon", which is a Protestant hymn which does not recognize the True Presence of Christ in the tabernacle at ALL TIMES is actually fully improper for a post-Communion "meditation", and that same dear misinformed soul (or one just like it in bad formation) pipes up, "But...the Mass is still valid", and too often that same dear person is still tapping their foot to the soulful bongos which continue to ring in an unbearable ear worm. 

[As an aside...some complain about "All Are Welcome".  At least they're not hearing "Soon and Very Soon" in their nightmares as I am.  When did I become a Southern Baptist?]

Or maybe you've just left the LA Religious Conference, replete with scantily-clad liturgical dancers that have no relevance to any part of American culture (which includes ALL cultures of the world), and you've listened to speakers of other races than yours complain that the Mass isn't relevant to their middle-eastern ancestry. And maybe you're Vietnamese and you're astounded because...the Roman liturgy ISN'T an American event, but AROSE out of the Middle East/Africa and if anyone has a right to complain about relevance, it's the Anglos who aren't included in its history. 

But we Anglos don't complain, do we?  

Because we're the only ones without a voice and we watch with irony while people of African and other descent who've been raised in a victim culture deconstruct the very liturgy that arose out of their own ancestral traditions but found a home in Rome, anyway. 

So much for oppression.  The Church loved the people to the south of Rome so much that she made their liturgical practices her standard.    (It's also very Franciscan, as it was the Franciscan form itself that was standardized while all other rites were suppressed in the interest of unification in liturgy in the Latin Rite.)  

Welcome to America. Land of the Historically-Idiotic, Home of the Free-to-Deconstruct what was never a problem in the first place. 

Let me offer you our professor's synopsis of the liturgical problem we face in this age, all across the world. For indeed, this is not an American problem, but one that infects and poisons us across the world.  Maybe you'll have to substitute the metaphor, but you'll see the point. 

*(Important Disclaimer:  I've embellished on the original analogy because it's more fun and it gives me the ability to reach a wider audience.)   

The Event at the Faithful and Joyful Ranch

Someone happens by your house, says "Peace be with you" and hands you a porterhouse steak.  Now, this is a PRIME piece of meat, perfectly marbled and aged. This thing could actually feed your entire family, and dang, you've been STARVING in the last week.  This is a GIFT!

So as you behold this wondrous, amazing cut from a very happy steer which gave its life to feed your starving family, you realize that what you have there in your hot callused hands is an EVENT. 

So you set out to make it happen.  You prep the grill with the right amount of charcoal, maybe even add hickory chips to make the smoke more aromatic and impart a certain importance to what is being offered.  

You choose the choicest vegetables from the field or the garden or the grocery store. Because only the right greens and corn is going to be proper for this feast.  And then you choose the most perfect wine, maybe a deep ruby Zinfandel or even a Shiraz or Sirah.  

Everything goes into this steak.  Because the accoutrement's that surround it point to its goodness and help you enjoy it more. Sure, it's a lot of work to put all of this together, and you need the help of your family to make sure the corn is soaked and then grilled or maybe boiled to perfection, and the greens are garlic-steamed just right, and maybe the potatoes are on the heat in the coals for just the right amount of time so that their skins are crispy but the inside is soft but not too much so. 

And all of this leads up to the main event, which is the porterhouse.  And you put that juicy perfectly-raised hunk of muscle on the iron and dang it if you don't fall to your knees in anticipation of what this is about to become!  

And then you take it off the grill and cut it and serve it to your family, and all of you rejoice in awe at this incredible event that is the Porterhouse steak. 

Or...Back at the Backwards Ranch where the Left Hand makes a Y

Someone happens by your house, says "Peace be with you" and hands you a Porterhouse steak. Now, this is a PRIME piece of meat, perfectly marbled and aged. This thing could actually feed your entire family, and dang, you've been STARVING in the last week. This is a GIFT!

And you take a look at your children and your family and decide you're all pretty hungry but you haven't seen a cow or a steer in a long time because you actually decided they weren't environmentally safe since they killed your grass in order to sustain themselves, and it meant you had to take time away from protesting Bush or or the war or free press in order to take care of them.  Some actually starved and died under your watch, but hey, they were just cattle that weren't being used, so what difference did it make? 

But then this porterhouse came your way and was given to you, and you looked at your progeny and realized maybe you were wrong about the importance of meat. And so you decided that it was really all about the stuff it contained in it that might make your family live a little longer. 

So you take that steak and because you can't serve it raw, you throw it into a pot of boiling water so as to kill the bacteria and inorganic materials that surely covered it. And you didn't want to grill it for fear of making chem trails in the sky above your ranch. Besides, you wouldn't have enough to feed Algore and his camera crew.   

So when it's done boiling and tough as the hide of the mummified bull you left to rot out in the home paddock, you decide it's safe to consume. But maybe it'll go down more quickly if it's blended and served in shot glasses and trendy finger bowls.  So you toss it into the mixer or the blender and you put it on "puree".

And maybe you toss in a few vegetables to blend with it, but when it's done, it's the same goop everyone eats, right? All you gotta do is garnish it with a few lentils and maybe some organic wheat grass. 

And you serve this mushy porterhouse steak in tumblers to your family explaining that it's all the same as the stuff that comes off your neighbor's grill.  And the mother, even though she secretly objects to how dinner is being prepared and served, says to her astonished children, "But it's still a steak, right?  The meat is still present, it just seems different because it's prepared differently. But it's all the same.  No matter what you do to it, it's still a porterhouse steak!  Slurp up!" 

And eventually the children, accustomed to eating in this manner, take on the same astonished litany, because they have to in order to convince themselves that the Left Hand Makes a Y Ranch is experiencing the same benefits as the Faithful and Joyful Ranch.  

And one day someone comes to town and visits the Y Ranch and experiences their idea of dinner. They partake because they, too recognize that what is served is in fact a steak because they saw it before it was transformed into goop. And even though they try to DESCRIBE what a Porterhouse is like, the family at Y decides that's too much work and no one would like it because boiling and blending is so much easier and understandable.  Who needs spices and rubs and flavorings and accoutrements like garlic steamed broccoli?  Or cheddar mashed potatoes? 

Does anyone see a problem with this? 

Anyone who knows what a Porterhouse is about can clearly see that the Y Ranch is actually not aware of the import of what the Porterhouse is really about.  It is an event. A major event. It feeds the starving children.  It isn't just about the substance, but the understanding of what it is. And understanding what it is about is made more clear by what leads up to it and surrounds it. 

Certainly, you can boil a steak and serve it with water and a thickening agent. But really...is that what a Porterhouse is about? 

Those who have ever worked in health care will understand this analogy most clearly.  I remember blending food for those who could not chew. I remember adding a thickening agent to gel water so that my patient wouldn't choke and drown.  I remember spooning a ham and cheese sandwich from a plastic bowl into the mouth of another dear person, wondering if they'd EVER have the pleasure of knowing what a ham sandwich was really about.  

The Rights of the Faithful

The fact is that the Liturgy matters.  The entire Liturgy prepares us for what we are about to receive. And if the accoutrements make us say trite and improperly defensive things like: "But...Jesus is still present!", it is indicative that we are not being presented with the reality of what we are supposed to be receiving. It means we're spooning up mush when we should be gnawing from the bone. 

People, if you leave Mass commenting, "Jesus was still made manifest" or "It was still a  valid Mass" or "The people of the Congo would have died for what we just experienced"....

Well...

First of all, if you're making those comments, it is an act of trying to justify or rationalize something you recognized is very, very wrong.  If your latter comment about experiencing what people in the Congo or in India or the Sudan or Bosnia would die to experience...don't count on it. It's quite possible they'd rather die than see such a lack of reverence given to Our Lord.

   

If you're going to bring up the martyrdom of those who suffer for the Mass, I must ask you this:    are you suggesting they don't DESERVE a properly celebrated Mass with all the  accountrements that draws them in to Christ?  Are they not deserving of all the elements of the liturgy we are supposed to be celebrating in honor of Christ?  Would that not also edify their souls?  Or don't they deserve reverence?  

Secondly, if you're going to cite the poor Catholics of those awful war-torn parts of the world, are you suggesting they have no TASTE?   Just because certain American Catholics think that it's OK to wear blue pastel paint swipes on a scarf over a plastic summer tablecloth doesn't mean that those who have lost everything have also lost appreciation for true beauty.  In fact, I'm pretty sure they'd give up food for MONTHS in order to purchase proper liturgical vestments for their priests.  

Thirdly...are you suggesting that because we live in a country that has access to all those things that make the liturgy proper and beautiful, we SHOULD NOT utilize those things just because other people in other parts of the world cannot because of their persecution? 

Here's the reality:  

The liturgy here is present everywhere. We go to Mass not for ourselves, but ON BEHALF OF those who CANNOT!  We have the potential to experience the full effects of Grace, and that grace is brought to fulfillment by a liturgy properly celebrated and experienced, and we can offer that for those who are deprived of the ability to even seen a priest, much less attend a Mass offered by him.  

If you're making excuses saying that liturgical disharmony is OK because everyone doesn't get to experience what is written in the GIRM or other things that honor God in the liturgy, then what you are saying is that you don't understand what the liturgy is about, nor do you understand that the Mass isn't relevant only to the location where it's celebrated, but EVERYWHERE and in ALL TIMES.  

Period. 

So stop with the excuses.  If you're happy with mush, then go eat mush, but don't enforce it on the rest of us.  We who know what steak is about are happy to share it, but it means you need to leave the puree behind and never look back. Don't waste our time or our salvation suggesting that the unidentifiable dinner your having is anything like the great feast the rest of us are celebrating in everywhere else. 

I am so sad for those parishes that have a liturgy which is unrecognizable as being Catholic.  We have a few in my diocese, and there are many that have not obtained fame.  The fact is that those people are suffering because their Sacraments may be invalid, they are not experiencing the Word of God, they are not learning the Gospel message.  The Liturgy is the face of the Church, and it is what most people recognize about Catholics. 

When you walk into a Cathedral or a beautiful church, who do you see walking around in awe, taking photos, asking questions?

Protestants.  People of no faith.  People who are seeking. 

So many Catholics in the past (and sadly, today) have had this impression that if we look more Protestant, then we'll be more attractive. The opposite is the truth. 

The non-Catholic people who enter our churches take a look cringe, and comment, "What did you do THAT for?"  

They can no longer even find a representation of Christ in our parishes. They find blobs of stone or resin and wonder at the religion that would permit something so utterly blasphemous to be contained within the walls of what is supposed to be sacred space. 

And so often, people visiting Catholic Churches can't even find the glowing red candle that is supposed to mark the tabernacle.  How do we bring people into the Presence of Christ...but can't point to Him?  

So I say, save your useless platitudes. Don't make excuses for what is wrong. Admit that something isn't right and work to establish what should be present, and what elevates us to Christ.  

The Church does not exist to save the world. It exists to save our souls.  THAT'S what we need to understand and follow. And if we don't vibrantly live out what we believe, then  we'll be violently spit out in the very form of the lukewarm mush with which we liturgically choose to disregard the honor due to God.  

I guess we all have a choice.  I, for one, have no time for excuses. You?  

*This rant has been brought to you by Adoro and does not represent the opinion of her priests or her bishops in any official capacity, although she thinks it's possible she might be stating what they think but are far too polite, holy, and well-formed to state outside of private conversation with other of the ordained persuasion.  In other words...nothing contained above is Catholic Doctrine. Don't sue me if you're not practicing custody of the eyes.  I'll go to my judgment for writing this, and you can go to yours for reading it. Agreed?  Agreed. Thank you.  Expect time in purgatory just for reading this.  Sorry. I'll do your time for you. * 

A Prayer for All to Pray

The other day an old 1916 prayer book that I'd forgotten about fell off of my shelf and landed on my desk, scaring me half to death. It's one that was given to me by a friend who'd picked it up in an antique book store some time ago.  It's one of those wonderful mysterious treasures that has hidden within its pages many holy cards and prayers belonging to its last owner.   

I haven't looked at this frayed old prayer book for quite a long time, but now that I do so, I have to wonder if whoever owned it struggled with the same things as I. But whoever it was, I'm grateful it fell into my lap, for it was still sitting on my desk this evening and somehow I knew that if I opened it up, God would speak.  Indeed, He has, and from the printing on a faded piece of elaborately decorated parchment, I share these words with you:

LEARNING CHRIST *

Teach me, Oh Lord, to be sweet and gentle in all the events of life; in disappointments, in the thoughtlessness of others, in the insincerity of those I trusted, in the unfaithfulness of those upon whom I relied. 

Let me put myself aside, to think of the happiness of others, to hide my little pains and heartaches, so that I may be the only one to suffer from them. 

Teach me to profit by the suffering that comes across my path.

Let me so use it that it may mellow me, not harden nor embitter me; that it may make me patient, not irritable; that it may make me broad in my forgiveness, not narrow, haughty and overbearing. 

May no one be less good for having come within my influence; no one less pure, less true, less kind, less noble for having been a fellow-traveler in our journey toward Eternal Life. 

As I go my rounds from one distraction to another, let me whisper, from time to time, a word of love to Thee. May my life to lived in the supernatural, full of power for good, and strong in its purpose of sanctity. 

Amen. Alleluia.

*copyright the E.M. Lohmann Co. 

Interesting Phenomena

In my previous post, I was making an attempt to direct readers to the theological concept of proper authority and the practical applications that result. 

Basically, to reiterate, I as a lay person CAN teach/preach outside of a homily, but my message won't really have the same effect as if that same message is conveyed by the person with the proper authority to do so.  In short, a Priest can offer what he teaches.  A Lay person cannot.  And in this case, I'm talking specifically about the Sacraments.  

I'll admit I was getting a bit frustrated with some of the comments I was receiving, because they were focusing not on my message, but on me.  They included advice as to how to point people to the proper authority.  When I teach about the Sacraments, I do that. In fact, in my blog post, I linked to a Church Document. I doubt anyone clicked on it.  

Same kind of thing.  When I teach/preach on the Sacraments, it falls on deaf ears in the same way my own theological point fell on blind eyes last night and this morning.  

The commenters, in a way I didn't at first realize, exactly made my point. 

Had a Priest brought up the issue of teaching authority proper to the priesthood versus that of the laity, what would have ensued would be a theological discussion of his points. 

But because I am a lay person, the theological point was largely ignored in favor of discussing my own personal role and what I should/could do, etc.  

That's EXACTLY what happens when a lay person teaches on these very important matters.  People ignore the message.  I don't get phone calls with questions on what I actually said, but rather, questions about what authority I have to tell them how to live.  I get questions on my outfit or my shoes or what kind of paper I used to write the talk on.  I get questions about what the kids should wear for First Communion. 

The theology...in one ear and out the other. 

Just like my blog post from last night. Almost NO discussion on the theology.  

I've also realized that's happened over and over on my posts where I'm making theological points. Granted, I often speak from experience in order to make my point, but even if I don't, people will tend to focus on me as the messenger more than the message itself. 

That's a problem, I'm realizing.  Because if I dominate the topic so much, then it means Jesus has taken a back seat, and I'm the one somehow in the limelight.  

This makes me seriously question blogging.  At least, my participation in it.  One of the reasons I don't write under my own name is because I don't want to be the focus. Yet, over time, that's happened. My identity is known to a lot of people now, and of course, once one is known, things become more personal and less theoretical.  

I'm going to take some time to really think about all of this, and whether or not I can do a better job of making Christ the focus as He is intended to be.  If I can't discuss theology without getting out of the way, that's a problem.  If my words are pointing only to me and people are bypassing God in order to get to me, then I'm not doing my job.  

I apologize if my frustration came out in my responses to comments in the previous post as I meant no offense to anyone, and know that they meant no offense to me. And truly, I am not offended. In fact, I'm glad they commented as they did as it makes me truly evaluate what I'm doing and why. 

God bless. 

By What Authority?

This afternoon in our Ecclesiology class, our professor was lecturing on Mystici Corporis Christi, an incredible document EVERY Catholic must read.  

I experienced a revelation that was put together also with something learned from Canon Law either on Friday night or Saturday morning, and it seems so obvious it shouldn't even BE a revelation!  

Our professor was discussing the gifts of the Holy Spirit; those that are hierarchical (i.e. pertain to  clergy of the hierarchy of the Church:  Pope, Cardinals, Bishops, Priests) and the other charismatic gifts that are proper to the laity.  In Canon Law the other day that professor discussed the graces given, gifts of the Holy Spirit given through the Sacraments.  We receive extraordinary graces in our Vocations when we receive the Sacrament that effects what it is.  Thus, those who are Ordained receive the necessary supernatural grace to live a celibate life, those who are Married receive the graces which enable them to raise their children. 

Then, today, in musing about the nature of the gifts granted to each of us by the Holy Spirit, and the respective roles of Clergy and Laity in the life of the Church, I realized that there is something almost disordered about how some of those things are being lived out today.  

In my role as a parish employee, part of my job is to present teaching to adults on the Sacraments so that they will be more empowered to teach their own children, which is their role.  That means that I'm up in front of a classroom, presenting Catholic doctrine, using Church documents to back up my points, using testimony, any possible tools necessary in conveying the required information.  

On the surface, this seems just fine. Certainly the Laity are allowed to preach outside of the Mass, and it's a good thing for us to be able to do so;  it is proper to our state, and I'm convinced God gives us the graces to do what we need to do when we are seeking to serve Him and His Bride the Church. 

However, perhaps we should look again at the proper role of Clergy and Laity in the context of the gifts of the Holy Spirit which correspond to our state in life...ESPECIALLY with regard to the Sacraments.  

When I stand in front of a classroom, the reality is this:  I'm on the same par with everyone out there. I am a laywoman. I am not an expert in anything, and even if I had a Doctorate in Sacramental Theology, it would not change my state in life.  Knowledge is important, fidelity to Church teachings is imperative, but the reality is that those people are looking up at me at the podium and thinking, "Who the hell are YOU to tell me I have to go to Confession?   Who the hell are YOU to tell us that we should not go to Communion if we've committed a sin on this list?  What kind of authority do YOU have to tell me what I should and should not believe?" 

They're right. 

I have no authority.  

I can speak of the teachings of the Church, and in the capacity of my employment, I speak under the authority and direction of the Priest, who represents the Bishop, who represents the Pope.  But I am not ordained. Canonically, Vocationally, and Ecclesiastically speaking, I have no real authority and I cannot officially speak for the Church. 

It is proper to the state of the Ordained Ministers (Bishops, Priests, Deacons) to preach the Word of God, to teach the faith, and to speak for the Church.  They are given the hierarchical gifts by the Holy Spirit when they are admitted to Holy Orders, and through that indelible mark on their souls, they are granted authority directly from God to teach and preach.  

I am not suggesting that the Laity do not have a voice. I am merely pointing out the reality that as a Laywoman, I CANNOT speak with the same authority because I cannot possess it and never will.  Nor should I, for the gifts proper to my state in life are not truly ordered to teaching within the Church itself. 

I am ALSO suggesting that some of the crisis in catechesis that we are seeing and trying to repair comes directly from the fact that the Laity are teaching and preaching on the Sacraments!  Words that are fully in union with the teachings of Christ are falling on deaf ears because we simply cannot command the respect which is naturally given to Pastors, whose charisms are ordered to the act of teaching and preaching these Divine Truths.  

Consider the Gospel passages where Jesus takes the scroll in the Temple, reads from Isaiah 61, and states that this has been fulfilled in their hearing. All the people wonder, for Jesus teaches with authority, "not like the scribes."  In fact, Jesus angered many because He taught with authority and without the typical hesitance or even arrogance of others who were charged with the teaching office. 

Jesus taught with authority for He IS the Word made flesh; He speaks of Himself.  

Consider, then, who can teach with that same authority?  

Priests. Bishops. The Pope.  

Why?  By virtue of their Ordination, the authority passed down from Jesus Christ Himself, the same authority STILL possessed in the Church through the power of the Holy Spirit, who gives the gifts needed for those who serve in the hierarchy and act in the name of Jesus, standing in the place of Christ Himself. 

Consider how it is proper for a Priest to give instruction on the Sacraments of Confession and Holy Communion, to read from the Gospel of John (even outside of Mass) and explain those teachings and why we believe in the True Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.  

The same voice that should be teaching us about the Sacrament of Confession is the same voice that speaks in the person of Christ offering absolution so that we will experience the Divine Mercy of Jesus Christ Himself, personally.  That same voice that should be instructing us in how simple bread and wine are transsubstantiated into the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ is the same that stands in persona Christi and offers us "The Body of Christ" when we receive our Lord from his hand in Holy Communion. 

That is the position of the authority of Jesus Christ Himself, authority that cannot be purchased, authority that cannot be bought, authority that cannot be forced...for it comes from God alone and enacted through the Magisterium of the Church in the Sacrament of Ordination. The priesthood is ordered not only towards offering the Sacraments, but TEACHING about them! 

For what good is it for a lay person such as myself to stand up and preach about something they cannot provide?  A Priest can both preach and offer what is needed to those who need the grace.

Who am I, indeed?  It is a privilege for me to have been allowed to stand before a group of people and share the message of Divine Mercy, to provide the teachings of Christ and His Church, to provide a scriptural synthesis on why we believe in the True Presence.  No doubt there was grace there, but it truly isn't my place as a laywoman to provide those teachings.  I can't offer to them what I am asking them to do or believe.  

Please understand; I am not suggesting that the Laity cannot preach!  Indeed we can, and we should. As Baptized Catholics, we are obligated to preach the Gospel to all nations!  We are obligated to share our faith with others, to live our faith, and to bring others to Christ!  This is a DUTY by virtue of our BAPTISM!   

However, I DO suggest that even though Canon Law allows us to offer teachings on the Sacraments, either as a parish employee or as a volunteer, it is proper to the state of the Clergy to provide those teachings.  Further, if Father goes into that room and gives the same talk I do (or hopefully one MUCH better!), the Confession lines will be consistently longer, there will be more reverence towards Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, and there will be fewer and fewer Catholics who dismiss the importance of the Sacramental life of the Church.  

The reality is that Priests simply aren't able to do everything that is proper to their state, and they need us to help them and provide teachings where allowed (everywhere outside of the homily).  

I pray for the day I can step down and take a seat in the classroom, allowing Father to take his rightful place up front, and perhaps I'll be another soul in need of mercy in his line for Confession. 

The charisms of the Laity are ordered towards evangelization outside of the Church building.  It makes sense for me to sit down with someone, whether personally or professionally, and discuss Church teaching one to one. This is how souls truly come to Christ.  But the Clergy are ordered towards providing the teachings within the Church, for they can speak with authority and provide what they discuss.  What a beautiful gift! 

I'd far rather stand back and do what I can to help the Pastor round up the lost sheep, for the reality is that it is his voice they need to know and recognize...not mine.

Their salvation depends on it. 

*  

PLEASE NOTE:  I'm adding this due to some of the comments I'm receiving.  Don't read into this post what isn't there. This post is NOT about the fact that I'm teaching and what I should or should not be saying to a class when I give talks on the sacraments to adults.  I'm trying to direct you to the issue of proper Authority granted by God through ordination, to the authority of the Teaching office that cannot be possessed in the same way as the Laity.   

MAIN POINT:  If a Priest, the one with Authority, is the one to offer the teaching, people would respect the message a lot more, and even follow it.  

Please focus on that, and not on me.  Although in a way, I guess the comments make the point:  because I as a lay person am delivering this message, I'm STILL the one getting the attention. The actual message in this post is being missed entirely. 

***

Passio

"My passion has been crucified and there burns in me no desire for corruptible things." 

 ~ St. Ignatius of Antioch 

 Temptations are allowed by God to give us the opportunity to love Him more than our inordinate desires. 

Our God who created us knows our weaknesses, and in His generosity, has given us the sacraments so that we may be strengthened once again for the battle.  And in that way, our sins are erased so that He may no longer look upon our many failures, but rather, our many acts of love in constantly desiring to reorder our own passions to be in union with the Divine Will. 

Bittersweet Agony

Today I took the day off work and drove down to my hometown to honor the life and memory and offer prayers for a man who was a father figure for me in some very difficult years.  

The other night at my brother's house, we discussed our memories of our friend and near-relative, realizing together how like a father he was to us.  He had no children of his own, but was one of those people who was often called upon for help...and he was always there.  He taught me to drive, he taught me how to shoot and handle weapons, and he taught me how to Polka. He and my brother had a special connection through their love of music and the guitar.

Dancing the Polka

Oh, yes.  I still remember the evening P.  taught me to dance.  

I grew up in a town that contained three Catholic churches, all within walking distance, and that evening Mom and I went to the Saturday vigil Mass at St. Lawrence, then attended the parish festival afterwards.  A polka band played loudly, we could smell hamburgers and popcorn, barbecue sandwiches and cole slaw....all to the lively rhythm of polka.  

I remember that he invited me to dance, and I didn't know how. His wife told me to go...she loved dancing, said he could show me how. And indeed, he did. He loved to dance, he loved music, he loved people, and in between our convesations about guns and law enforcement, we hit the pavement of the parking lot and danced a lively jig while others walked the cakewalk or tipped back a brew in the beer tent.  

He and Mom had grown up together, and he was a natural part of our family. Even though he wasn't really a cousin to me, he was so for Mom. Today Mom told us how he helped to tear down the barn at the old family farm when she was a child, and I remember from years ago her confession that he taught her how to smoke after he came back from the Vietnam War.  

She doesn't smoke anymore.  

Today was hard.  I walked into the Church of the Immaculate Conception, not realizing how small it really was. The last time I'd been there, it was the largest parish in our town, and it's where the "rich people" attended Mass.  But it was a beautiful Church, constructed of grey stone, the sanctuary was a a perfect grotto, with a couple small rose windows.  I took in the beautiful stained glass, wishing that, as a teen, I'd understood what was there.  With no surprise, after we were seated in a pew, I looked up at a wonderful window depicting Christ in His Agony.  How appropriate.  

One of my greatest devotions is  to Jesus in His Agony in the Garden. 

The funeral was quite dignified, the deacon who gave the homily was family to our beloved deceased, and spoke clearly and accurately, in both a rememberance and an exhortation to exemplify Christ.  

But it was hard to believe who we were sending off.  I still can't quite grasp that he's gone.  

I guess I'm still in the agony.  

Clustering

This was the last time I'll be in that church.  It seems that Immaculate Conception is scheduled to be razed at some point in the near future.  This town that used to have three Catholic churches has only one now, spread in between different properties. They are building another one on the outskirts of the city, and once I saw the model, I wept. It is the typical modern design. Typical lateral theology. I understand building a new church...I don't understand why modern architects can't honor the sacred architecture that draws us uncompromisingly towards Christ and takes us out of ourselves.  

I took a few photos before I left, quite conscious of the fact that our departed friend would have been doing the same, as the holder of the office of picture-taking.  

En route out of town, I stopped at my home parish, where I'd been Confirmed when I was fifteen. The funeral reception was supposed to be there, although the guests were still at the cemetary.  In the solitude, I went inside and into the sanctuary where I'd spent so many hours of my life as a teenager.  

The church was dark, but Christ was still present, evidenced by the flickering red candle on the right side altar, just as He'd always been.  This house of God wasn't the same, but at least it wasn't vacant.  

The white marble altar on the right that held the tabernacle was so familiar, and so was the matching one on the left, sporting the Risen Christ.

The church was too dark to take photographs, but it was perfect for prayer.  I walked up the aisle on the right, passing the detailed stained glass windows. Remembering the same walk every Sunday, remembering Confessions made in this very space.  Remembering...

 Nearing the front, I knelt, right in the side aisle, knowing I had to apologize.  For all the years I entered the Presence of Christ...and did not acknowledge Him.  For all the years I cantored, not even understanding the meaning of that candle.  I knelt there, on the same thin, tan carpet, remembering all the years spent in that church.  But not knowing what it was all about.  Still understanding that in my ignorance, Jesus had taken over, and I am only alive because of that time spent at His feet.  

It's still home.  Jesus is still there. He always was, even though I didn't understand.  Even though I didn't know Him...He knew me.  

I'll never forget the arching supports, I'll never forget that side altar, I'll never forget standing in the choir, singing for Jesus, playing my flute for Jesus.  

It used to be so big, and now....it seems so small. 

Sacred Heart has already been partially stripped.  The big crucifix is gone, moved to the new construction. I hear they've taken the tabernacle from St. Lawrence, and I pray they save the stained glass from ALL the churches. That is art that cannot be reproduced.  It's our history. Our patrimony.  The white cloth that represents the resurrection in the place of the absent Cross does nothing other than emphasize the impending demolition of the buliding. 

Today has been such a strange day. It's been a trip through my pre-teen through graduation years. Our old house is still there, but painted, and somewhat run down.  Our our church...losing ground.  It's not the vibrant place it was when we arrived. I'll never forget Father P. who made us so welcome, whose big hands were always read to grasp ours. He died of cancer only a few years after we moved to that town.  But our parish embraced us. It became home.  

I prayed to Father today, asking for his intercession.  The hall below is named for him...and now that hall will be sold.  Where does his memory go?  We are his children...where do we go?

The bell towers are silent, the bells having been moved to the new contraption they call a "church".  

I wished I had more time today. I wished I could stay in the shadows of the Sacred Heart, reaching for the elusive light cast by the flickering candle.  But I couldn't. 

I did kneel before the sacred shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe, a shrine I've twice visited in Mexico. That wasn't there in my teen years, although our hispanic population was growing.  It is clear they found a home at Sacred Heart, too. It's so sad; those who found a home away from their own country are having to flee again.    

In my life as a suburban Catholic, I've congratulated myself and my diocese of avoiding the heartache that has attacked so many others around the country.  And meanwhile, back home, still in the same diocese,  my own home is being lost.  One church has already been sold, the tabernacle take away.  Today when I  drove past, I crossed myself, thinking Christ was there. He wasn't.  Jesus has left the building...and it's no longer a church. Just a bunch of stones, heaped one upon another. Once a witness to God's glory, now...just a shell of memories to be razed or remodeled according to the whim of the buyer.  

What a gift to enter Sacred Heart.  Jesus was waiting.  There I was, how many years later?  Coming home.  Kneeling in adoration.  Remembering the liturgies, the choir rehearsals...my first Christmas as a flautist.  My first experience, at Christmas, as a Cantor. The book thrust into my hands with the command from the choir director:  "Sing this!" as she took off to assist where help was needed. 

What child is this, who laid to rest, in Mary's lap is sleeping?  

The shadows spoke to me.  The glow from the windows.  The flicker of the presence of Christ.  

Surely it is God who saves me, I will trust in Him and not be afraid...  ~ 1st Song of Isaiah

It wasn't an elaborate church, but it was welcoming. It was reverent.  It made sense. It draws one to Christ.  

When I turned to go, in the back stood my brother, who had arrived with Mom, and waited for me.  Almost embarassed, I joined him, and took a photograph of the stained glass depicting the namesake:  The Sacred Heart of Jesus. 

I said goodbye to my family today, there in the basement of that parish hall, where we'd spent so many years.  I walked up the steps alone, and knelt in the center aisle, bowing to Jesus.  Atoning for all those years of ignorance.  Knowing He understood.  

A bittersweet homecoming.  A little girl grown up. Another home lost. 

A new parish formed, from the vestiges of the old.  

Fr. Peichel,  pray for us.  

Sacred Heart of Jesus...have mercy on us.  

Divine Heart of Jesus...I trust in thee. 

The Lord is Risen, Alleluia!

Ant. 1 The splendor of Christ risen from the dead has shone on the people redeemed by his blood, alleluia.




Last night I attended the Easter Vigil with friends, and while waiting for them to pick me up, I stood outside in my driveway, enjoying the beautiful day.

I couldn't help but observe the activities of my neighbors, and those driving by with cars blaring and rattling with bass speakers probably bigger than the car itself. I couldn't help but notice all the activity going on...not ordered towards God.

I was struck by the fact so many families and individuals had entered into the Triduum, suffering liturgical death in union with the suffering and death of Christ, and were now preparing to welcome the Resurrection.

And yet, most of the world, it seems, is just going along as though nothing amazing was happening or has happened. It seems, in general, that most people never think about Jesus, or what He did. Most people, it seems, rarely utter a prayer, and if they use the most holy name of God, it is to shout it out in vain when something doesn't go their way.

So many families are quietly and simply living their faith, taking it as a matter of course that we will observe and celebrate these Holy Days with all our hearts. We may do our best to share this wondrous news with others, but it is becoming harder and harder in a world that wants to muzzle us so that we cannot share our joy in the Resurrection.

It made me think of what was happening in the world at the time of Christ. How He was arrested under cover of darkness, as though He had not taught in the Temple in broad daylight. How He was scourged like any other condemned criminal, and then paraded through the streets, carrying His cross. How He was taken outside the city walls and crucified, in the place of the skull, where criminals were decapitated.

And who, in the Roman world or beyond knew what was happening? Who knew what prophecies were being fulfilled? Who understood that the blood in their square and on their street was the blood of salvation, if they would choose to accept it?

Who saw our suffering Lord on the Cross and rushed into the shadow of His wings?

Only a few. Everyone else was either outright hostile or completely indifferent.

And yet...that reality of Christ's suffering, death, and resurrection changed everything. Everything.

It saddens me that so many will completely ignore this day, but the same hope in the Resurrection is the hope we should all grasp. Just as Mary Magdalene wanted to cling to Christ, so should we, and understand the hope He brings.

We have to remember that no matter how hard the world tries to silence the message, we cannot be silent in our love for Christ, and dedication to the Truth. He shed His blood for us...who are we to refuse to do the same?

Ant. 2 Our Redeemer has risen from the tomb; let us sing a hymn of praise to the Lord our God, alleluia.

Ant. 3 Alleluia, the Lord is risen as he promised, alleluia!

Acts 10:40-43

God raised up Jesus on the third day and granted that he be seen, not by all, but only by such witnesses as had been chosen beforehand by God - by us who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commissioned us to preach to the people and to bear witness that he is the one set apart by God as judge of the living and the dead. To him all the prophets testify, saying that everyone who believes in him has forgiveness of sins through his name.

Christ Our Light

JESUS IS RISEN!





INDEED, HE IS RISEN!

Holy Saturday

It's such a strange day. I always wake up with a sense of emptiness, knowing that the tabernacles throughout the world are empty, as they have been for a day already. It is a sense of grief, a disquietude that enters into every moment.  

The candles are extinguished; at the church, in my home. I usually have a vigil candle or so lit somewhere, but not on these days, or during these nights. My black chapel veil is draped over my statue of the Blessed Mother, rendering her, at least for now, the Mother of Sorrows, reminding me to join my own grief with hers. 

This year, indeed, I have personal grief to share, for my beloved friend passed away on Good Friday, yesterday.  It is with this poignant experience of real grief that brings me to wait with Our Lady, to grieve with her, yet with a hope in the Resurrection, a knowledge that it is not yet over. 

Today, in the Liturgy of the Hours, we read of The Lord's descent into hell, where He has gone in search of our first parents and all of those who have suffered the penalty for sin. 

When the Lord finds Adam, he takes him by the hand, "...and raised him up, saying, 'Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.'"  

Indeed. This is what we await. We join with those who are asleep. We wait, silently grieving, for Our Lord, and tonight, He comes...tonight the stone is rolled away and with the coming of the Light we meet Our Lord as he arises from the dead, opening heaven so that we may, one day, join Him for eternity. 

But for today, we wait, knowing what is coming, awaiting the Light to lead the way...

*

Good Friday

(All text is from the Liturgy of the Hours for Good Friday)


The price of your redemption was not something of fleeting value like gold or silver, but the costly shedding of the blood of Christ, the lamb without blemish.


Ant.  It was about nine in the morning when they nailed Jesus to the cross.

Isaiah 53:2-3

He grew up like a sapling before him,

like a shoot from the parched earth;

There was in him no stately bearing to makeus look at him, 

nor appearance that would attract us to him.

He was spurned and avoided by men,

a man of suffering, accustomed to infirmity,

One of those from whom men hid their faces, 

spurned, and we held him in no esteem.

We worship you O Christ, and we praise you.

-- Because by your cross you have redeemed the world. 

Ant: From noon until three o'clock, there was darkness over the whole world

Isaiah 53:4-5

Yet it was our infirmities that he bore,

our sufferings that he endured,

While we thought of him as stricken

as one smitten by God and afflicted.

But he was pierced for our offenses,

crushed for our sins,

Upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole,

by his stripes we were healed.

Lord, remember me.

--When you come into your kingdom.

Ant: At three o'clock, Jesus cried out in a loud voice: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Isaiah 53:6-7

We had all gone away like sheep,

each following his own way;

But the Lord laid upon him

the guilt of us all.

Though he was harshly treated, he submitted

and opened not his mouth;

Like a lamb led to the slaughter

or a sheep before the shearers,

he was silent and opened not his mouth.

He has plunged me into darkness.

--Like the dead, long forgotten.

We adore you O Christ and we praise you
Because by your Holy Cross you have redeemed the world.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Holy Thursday

Lent has come to an end, and yet now we enter into the Holy Triduum, the most intense and solemn days of the year.

It has been a difficult Lent for me, and all I have learned, as usual, is that I can't save myself. I cannot overcome my weaknesses, I cannot overcome sin. There is nothing I can do to save myself; again and again I went crawling back to Jesus to confess my faults and ask for forgiveness. And each time, I was forgiven and sent back out, only to fall again.

It is in this condition that I enter the Triduum, knowing my Savior waits, knowing that without Him, I would fall and never rise again.

I am so much like Peter in that way; even as he could not seem to keep from shooting off his mouth, he also could not stay away from Jesus, following him even after His arrest. Following Him, desiring to follow Him as he'd promised, only to deny Him. Not once, not twice, but three times.

I do the same thing. I stand with Christ, and proclaim that I love Him and I will follow Him, and I am willing to DIE for Him. Jesus looks at me probably with the same expression as that which He gazed upon Peter 2,000 years ago. He sees my enthusiasm and desire to do great things for Him and with Him, the same things, hopefully, that Jesus desires. And He says, "You say that now, but before you even leave my presence you will deny me three times."

Jesus, ever patient, ever faithful, understanding our weakness more clearly than we.

It is we who are impatient and unfaithful. It is we who cannot understand. It is we who fail in love and charity.

It is Jesus who constantly forgives, accepts our apologies and reminds us that it is for THIS reason that He goes to the Cross.

Tonight, Holy Thursday, we celebrate the institution of the Eucharist and the Priesthood. Tonight, we see how Christ has begun to empty Himself in preparation for His Passion and death.

We can understand Peter, and the rest of the Apostles, because, in Lent, we have all probably recognized our weakness and sinfulness...our unworthiness. How shocked the Apostles must have been when Jesus Christ washed their feet, in this act of ordination which they did not recognize at the time. How proper that they were cleansed and instituted before the Eucharist, for even though none can be worthy, Christ chooses and calls those whom He desires to serve in His place, with His own authority.

Let us all reflect deeply on how Christ emptied Himself, ask for the ability to do the same, and enter with Him into His Passion and Death on the Cross. We can only rise again with Him if we, too are willing to suffer for others in dying to ourselves in order that Christ might live in us.

Let us also understand the great gift of the Priesthood of Jesus Christ which He has passed on through His Apostles, and the gift of His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, without which none would have life.
*

Deathwatch

It seems I'm always at work when I get bad news.  In high school, I was at work when I learned of the death of a recent ex-boyfriend, with whom I'd spoken only a week before.

A few years ago, a friend called me at work to notify me of the death of another friend which had taken place on Holy Thursday.  She'd lost my new home number and left desperate messages for me at work. When I called her back, she told me how Amber had died in a wreck en route to work.  

When my Grandmother died, I was at work when my brother called me.  On that occasion I was the only person on my team in that day, we were buried in new claims, and I'd gone to the bathroom to try to get ahold of myself. I'd known my own would let me leave, but we had so much to do, I felt like I had to stay. Thank God two other managers in our office talked some sense into me as I was clearly in no position to do my job.  

Even the day my Dad died,  back when I was 20, I was at work and expecting a phone call at any moment.  No, I didn't get the news at work, for once, but he passed away while I was there, waiting. On deathwatch.  He was in another state and I had gone to work needing to keep busy while we awaited the news.  

So it came as no surprise to me today when Mom called me at work to deliver yet more bad news.  

After I hung up the phone, I sat at my desk tearfully, wondering if I could avoid the world for awhile. I grabbed my rosary to pray Divine Mercy for P., my friend.  Before I even got into the first decade, I heard someone come in and ask for me. My phone rang; the secretary telling me he was there. I'd forgotten about the parent who was coming in to pick up some paperwork, and quickly tried to pull myself together. Hoping it looked only like I had a cold or allergies. That's so much easier to explain.  

After he'd left, I told our secretary the news I'd gotten, managing to remain dry-eyed. She's not one who can easily deal with suffering, so I quickly took myself back to my office. As she left for the day she called out to me that it must be a lot like losing my Dad again. Because, she said, ever since her own mother had died, it was harder to lose certain female figures in her life, especially those who had had a particularly "motherly" role. 

I was so glad, in that moment, that she couldn't see the effect her words had on me. In a sense, she's right.  Although my Dad also helped me learn to drive, P. was more available and was the first to step in at my Mom's request.  He was also the one who taught me to shoot, and in so many ways was a father-figure to me, even though I didn't really make that connection until this afternoon.  

And now...we're losing him.  And, just like my Dad, I haven't seen this dear friend in a few years, either. The last time I saw P.  was at the funeral of a relative a couple years ago. While there, his wife had said to me, "You've always been so special to him."  

I'll never forget those words, and how guilty I feel, having lost touch for so long.  

He's always been special to me, too.  And I'm so sorry I won't ever get a chance to say that to him. I can only hope he knows that.  My life is better because of his involvement in it, because of the support he gave my family during some very difficult years, and because of the personal interest he took in me and my life. I know that some of what I accomplished was directly related to his own intervention.  

So, I guess, in a sense, as I listen to the ticking of the clock tonight,  I'm waiting and watching for the death of another type of father in my life.  

Agony

Maybe it's appropriate, this week, to experience this deathwatch.  

As Christ prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, what did His followers do but sleep, when they should have been praying?

Jesus knew His time was near, and even James and John, His closest cohorts, could not stay awake to watch.  But they were present.  

They didn't realize they were supposed to be waiting.  

But Christ did. He knew. He waited.  He watched, and He as the first to see the flames of the torches coming. 

Not much is said of the theological implications of waiting, but it's there. Christ Himself experienced it.  When we know something is coming, when the Hour has come, we go, defeated, and if that Hour is delayed for any reason, it only prolongs our agony as we have worked so hard to prepare ourselves for what is to happen. 

Something happens to us when we know a battle is done. We want it only to be over. And in between that realization and the final event, we die a thousand deaths. We are resigned to what is to occur. It is not that we devalue ourselves or those we are losing; rather, it is that sense of complete surrender, self-abandonment to God's will. Knowing He is in charge, knowing that once the final event happens, then we can move on, but until then, we suffer for and with the victim.

Agony, you see, is never personal; it belongs to all.  

This is what allows us to enter into Christ's own Agony; He does not keep it for Himself, but is willing to share if we but ask to join Him. This is His consolation in the Garden.  This is what the Angel represented: those who were willing to approach the Beloved Lamb of God, realizing that His suffering was necessary, redemptive, and not to be borne alone even though we ARE the cause of it.  

So tonight, and as long as necessary, I guess all of us who await the death of a loved one enter into the shadows of this haunting garden, and together, we hold the hands of Our Lord who has been here waiting for us.  

Can you hear the clock ticking?  Can you hear the soft sound of your own heartbeat in the silence, counting the moments of life? 

The Hour draws near. 

Prayer Request - for Dying Friend

My Mom just called me to deliver the news.

My friend is dying, and it seems he's going fast. They're trying to wake him up enough to say a few words to his wife before he goes.

He has an infection, they can't find the source or what it is, exactly, and believe it's from the recently-diagnosed leukemia. They can't do anything for him.

Please offer Divine Mercy prayers and pray for a Happy Death.

Thank you.

Holy Water Fonts

This morning when I arrived for Mass, I was disappointed to see that the large font had been drained of water, and hoped Father hadn't been talked into some ridiculous practice. I was happy to note that the smaller fonts, as in the one near the chapel, was still full of water.

My own parish, happily, doesn't engage with stupid non-liturgical anti-GIRM practices of adding sand to the holy water fonts during Lent, although I do recall that during the Triduum they EMPTY them and take the opportunity to clean them thoroughly before refilling them for Easter.

Much to my amusement, during Mass, Father addressed the question of the empty font, brought to him by a child en route to the church this morning.

The student had asked him, "Why is the holy water font empty? What is the significance of that?"

Father explained, "Actually, the significance is very simple: the pump is broken and we have to replace it today!"

Whew! I love the wisdom of humor of our Pastor!