Sometimes when I am reflecting on the Gospel of the day, my brain goes into concordance mode, sending me from one passage to another, creating a kind of "connect the dots" meditation. That's what happened with today's fabulous reading (Luke's account of Jesus "claiming" his messianic role): "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing."
Luke tells us the people's response as Jesus developed his homily: "They were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth." That brings to mind Luke 6:45 ("From the fullness of the heart, the mouth speaks"). Which led me to the prologue of John, "Of his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace." Which leads to John's own conclusion (and a very apt "sum-up" of today's Gospel): "No one has ever seen God; it is the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made him known."
So that little crowd in the Nazareth synagogue were amazed by the "fullness of grace and truth" that came from the Word himself, as he made God known to them in the Scriptures and in himself.
What if the attendant had handed Jesus a different scroll? Would the Scriptures not have been fulfilled in their hearing that day? Given the unity of revelation (inspired by the one Holy Spirit), Jesus would have been able to pick up any passage and begun his homily in the same way, "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing."
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
My prayers for Church unity are not completely unanswered this week... A whole community of sisters will be received into full communion with the Catholic Church on Sept. 3 in Baltimore.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Fr. Barron on Kennedy's Legacy
In this "Year for Priests," one of the priests I am praying for in a special way is Fr. Robert Barron. I'm glad to see he will be a regular contributor to "America" magazine, and that his "Word on Fire" podcast will continue to comment on issues of the day.
But who was he?
There was a shooting yesterday in downtown Chicago. The incident started behind us, under the Wabash Street "El" tracks, right in our block. A police officer who has been working this beat as long as I have saw a panhandler draw a knife. As the officer got closer, the panhandler ran toward State Street, crowded with lunchtime passers-by, grabbed an elderly man and put the knife to his throat. Another officer came on the scene and drew his gun.
The upshot is that one of our street people is dead. I mean "ours" as in, from our block. Someone I would recognize. Someone I've probably greeted many a time. And I don't know who it is. Another one of our block's regular panhandlers was interviewed in the paper; he said that the deceased "wasn't right in the head."
But who was he? Most of our street people aren't "right in the head" on a regular basis. I said a prayer for him today ("Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord"--the same prayer I offered for Ted Kennedy and John McCarthy), but I may never figure out which of our street people it was who "wasn't right in the head" on a Thursday afternoon downtown.
The upshot is that one of our street people is dead. I mean "ours" as in, from our block. Someone I would recognize. Someone I've probably greeted many a time. And I don't know who it is. Another one of our block's regular panhandlers was interviewed in the paper; he said that the deceased "wasn't right in the head."
But who was he? Most of our street people aren't "right in the head" on a regular basis. I said a prayer for him today ("Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord"--the same prayer I offered for Ted Kennedy and John McCarthy), but I may never figure out which of our street people it was who "wasn't right in the head" on a Thursday afternoon downtown.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Facebook Conversation
The comments on our Choir's Facebook Page took an unexpected turn yesterday, when a jovial-faced cleric commented that his Church would welcome us to Phoenix. He signed it (as you can see in the image) +Archbishop Michael Hillis. One of the sisters (from Phoenix, as it happens) didn't recognize the name. A Google search revealed that he was a "Bishop Emeritus" of the "Reformed Catholic Church," about which I have written before. It is a new splinter-church with mostly valid Orders (except for the women they lay hands on...).
I quickly posted a comment, which I then deleted (an hour or two later), responding first that we are a Boston-based group (the bishop seemed to think we were from another country), and then adding, in parentheses: " 'Reformed Catholic Church'? How heartbreaking."
That got the archbishop's attention, and he posted the second comment, which you can see and read below (or by clicking on the image). That was last night. I've been praying for Michael Hillis ever since. Offered my Mass and Communion for him, too.
Today we got one of his community members. You can see where she is coming from.
What the "Reformed" Catholics want us to believe is that theirs is just another perfectly valid expression of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. Oh, you're "Roman"? How fine. And she's "Anglican," but we're all just as Catholic as the next. "Catholic is Catholic," as Hillis claimed. But the Anglicans already know from their own painful history that it's not as easy as just adding an adjective to the word "Catholic." Without that actual communion with the Pope of Rome, where is the center of unity? Where is the guarantee that the next bishop, the next generation, will "keep faith" with them? That the next diocese over (the "Reformed" group already has several dioceses and recently expanded, God help us, to Ireland) will "keep faith" with whatever their self-definition is at the present moment? Without a universal, visible center of unity, who gets to decide on that self-definition, anyway (since, without a universal, divinely established teaching authority, it can only be a self-definition)? (Sr Helena commented that I get really worked up over these issues... I think it is because this is so patently illogical that it is unanswerable!)
I feel very uneasy at the way I responded from the first as administrator of the choir's page. Mainly, I wanted to alert the other 2,400 "fans" that not every man in a clerical collar on Facebook is a Catholic priest in communion with the Pope, and not every bishop on Facebook is a Catholic bishop in full communion with the Pope. (In fact, my experience is that only 2% of the bishops on Facebook are Catholic bishops.) The way social networks operate and evolve, does this tiny set of posts and comments matter? Was it a mistake for me to tip Hillis off that his claim ("Archbishop of Phoenix") was not exactly...licit?
I quickly posted a comment, which I then deleted (an hour or two later), responding first that we are a Boston-based group (the bishop seemed to think we were from another country), and then adding, in parentheses: " 'Reformed Catholic Church'? How heartbreaking."
That got the archbishop's attention, and he posted the second comment, which you can see and read below (or by clicking on the image). That was last night. I've been praying for Michael Hillis ever since. Offered my Mass and Communion for him, too.
Today we got one of his community members. You can see where she is coming from.
What the "Reformed" Catholics want us to believe is that theirs is just another perfectly valid expression of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. Oh, you're "Roman"? How fine. And she's "Anglican," but we're all just as Catholic as the next. "Catholic is Catholic," as Hillis claimed. But the Anglicans already know from their own painful history that it's not as easy as just adding an adjective to the word "Catholic." Without that actual communion with the Pope of Rome, where is the center of unity? Where is the guarantee that the next bishop, the next generation, will "keep faith" with them? That the next diocese over (the "Reformed" group already has several dioceses and recently expanded, God help us, to Ireland) will "keep faith" with whatever their self-definition is at the present moment? Without a universal, visible center of unity, who gets to decide on that self-definition, anyway (since, without a universal, divinely established teaching authority, it can only be a self-definition)? (Sr Helena commented that I get really worked up over these issues... I think it is because this is so patently illogical that it is unanswerable!)
I feel very uneasy at the way I responded from the first as administrator of the choir's page. Mainly, I wanted to alert the other 2,400 "fans" that not every man in a clerical collar on Facebook is a Catholic priest in communion with the Pope, and not every bishop on Facebook is a Catholic bishop in full communion with the Pope. (In fact, my experience is that only 2% of the bishops on Facebook are Catholic bishops.) The way social networks operate and evolve, does this tiny set of posts and comments matter? Was it a mistake for me to tip Hillis off that his claim ("Archbishop of Phoenix") was not exactly...licit?
Mother's Day
It's that mother's day: St. Monica, best known for her persevering prayer for her brilliant but wayward son, Augustine (whose feast day is tomorrow).
As flashy and accomplished as Augustine was, his mother was of a far
different character. In fact, Augustine half-admits to being embarrassed by Monica's pious devotions. (Of course, any Roman-era rhetor would be embarrassed to have his Mom follow him from continent to continent whispering prayers in his trail.) Augustine even tells us that some of Monica's devotions had to be curtailed--and the only person who could convince her to give them up was St. Ambrose! One prayer she did not give up, until it had been more than answered, was that prayer for Augustine.
That makes Monica her son's most powerful collaborator and partner in mission. Adrienne von Speyr wrote, "Her son's mission will be much more differentiated, but it would be unthinkable without her own. Their missions pass over into one another." Doesn't that mean that Monica is a kind of patron not only of worried moms, but of the lay apostolate itself?
As flashy and accomplished as Augustine was, his mother was of a far
different character. In fact, Augustine half-admits to being embarrassed by Monica's pious devotions. (Of course, any Roman-era rhetor would be embarrassed to have his Mom follow him from continent to continent whispering prayers in his trail.) Augustine even tells us that some of Monica's devotions had to be curtailed--and the only person who could convince her to give them up was St. Ambrose! One prayer she did not give up, until it had been more than answered, was that prayer for Augustine.That makes Monica her son's most powerful collaborator and partner in mission. Adrienne von Speyr wrote, "Her son's mission will be much more differentiated, but it would be unthinkable without her own. Their missions pass over into one another." Doesn't that mean that Monica is a kind of patron not only of worried moms, but of the lay apostolate itself?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Faithful departed
Praying for the repose of the soul of Senator Kennedy, and of John McCarthy (who introduced my sister Mary to his best friend...her husband of 24 years).
One good thing about being a Catholic is that, once you cross to the other side, you get the benefit of the doubt about, well, being on the right side on the other side! But we don't assume it tout court: we'll pray for you until the end of time to help push you ashore. That's what we now do for the Lion of the Senate. His political adroitness matters absolutely not at all now. His self-identification as Catholic, not so much either. His real efforts in favor of the disadvantaged: "You did it to Me." Ditto, sadly enough, his support of abortion as a woman's "right."
We can all be blinded (by need, by ambition, by passion) to what we are "really" doing sometimes. We may have convinced ourselves that it is all for good, for justice, for orthodoxy, for whatever value will most disguise our self-love. So no one gets a free pass today, just because the senior Senator from Massachusetts offered a particularly outrageous demonstration of cafeteria Catholicism.
Say it with me: "Eternal rest grant unto him (and them) O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen."
One good thing about being a Catholic is that, once you cross to the other side, you get the benefit of the doubt about, well, being on the right side on the other side! But we don't assume it tout court: we'll pray for you until the end of time to help push you ashore. That's what we now do for the Lion of the Senate. His political adroitness matters absolutely not at all now. His self-identification as Catholic, not so much either. His real efforts in favor of the disadvantaged: "You did it to Me." Ditto, sadly enough, his support of abortion as a woman's "right."
We can all be blinded (by need, by ambition, by passion) to what we are "really" doing sometimes. We may have convinced ourselves that it is all for good, for justice, for orthodoxy, for whatever value will most disguise our self-love. So no one gets a free pass today, just because the senior Senator from Massachusetts offered a particularly outrageous demonstration of cafeteria Catholicism.
Say it with me: "Eternal rest grant unto him (and them) O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen."
Theology Uncorked
"Theology Uncorked" is a series of dinner lectures in the heart of Chicago sponsored by the Holy Name Cathedral Young Adult Board and IHS312.org. Free parking at Holy Name Cathedral. Pittance of a fee for the talk ($7?!); separate tabs for dinner. The theme for this series is "Sex and Dating." (It's like "intro to Theology of the Body," really). The series started August 11, so you missed a few sessions, but here's what you can look forward to. Don't live in Chicago? Sorry...
SEPTEMBER 1--Love, Peace and the Scars of the 60's Hidden Wounds Vicky Thorn
SEPTEMBER 8--Closer to Nature, Closer to God--Common NFP Myths Debunked Kelly Florek, RN
SEPTEMBER 14--Catholic Sexuality: You've Never Had it so Good! Fr. Thomas Loya
5:15--5:45 Mass at Holy Name Cathedral
6:00-7:00 LaSalle Power Co. Restaurant (500 N. LaSalle) fellowship, free appetizers, cash bar, additional food by separate checks
7:00-8:00 Speaker ($7 suggested donation)
8:00 Social time
Spread the word!
SEPTEMBER 1--Love, Peace and the Scars of the 60's Hidden Wounds Vicky Thorn
SEPTEMBER 8--Closer to Nature, Closer to God--Common NFP Myths Debunked Kelly Florek, RN
SEPTEMBER 14--Catholic Sexuality: You've Never Had it so Good! Fr. Thomas Loya
5:15--5:45 Mass at Holy Name Cathedral
6:00-7:00 LaSalle Power Co. Restaurant (500 N. LaSalle) fellowship, free appetizers, cash bar, additional food by separate checks
7:00-8:00 Speaker ($7 suggested donation)
8:00 Social time
Spread the word!
I'm a bit under the weather these days... just dawned on me today that it might be an actual virus or something (!), so my brain is not functioning all that well. Makes me wish the Gospel these days were something a bit more consoling. I don't feel all that up to facing the polemic against the Pharisees right now. Thank goodness there are two readings--and St. Paul is rather gentle in this first letter of his (perhaps even the first he wrote). And the Responsorial Psalm is just perfect, a continuation of yesterday's: God sees us and knows us, inside and out. (And he's telling me, "Get the h--- off the computer and go rest!")
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Advent Women's Retreat
It's not too soon to mark your calendars! Note the new location: the Marytown Shrine at Libertyville.
9:00—3:00
Advent Women's Retreat
Every Woman’s Journey:
Answering “Who Am I?” for the feminine heart.
December 5
Marytown (Libertyville IL)9:00—3:00
DIRECTOR: Katrina J. Zeno is co-Foundress of Women of the Third Millennium, international speaker on the genius of women, the Theology of the Body, marriage and the Eucharist, chastity, the single life and prayer. She is the co-host of a 13-part series on the Theology of the Body for EWTN. Her books include “Every Woman’s Journey” and “God Reveals the Body. ” (She has a book in process with Pauline Books & Media; wouldn't it be great if it came out on time for the retreat?)
Born and raised in San Diego, Katrina earned her B.A. in theology from Franciscan University of Steubenville. She is a single mother and dance instructor living in Arizona. Read more about Katrina on her website.
Space is limited; pre-payment required to hold your place. Call 312-346-4228. $35 fee includes breakfast and lunch.Cast a vote!
My artist-friend Donna e-mailed me today about a contest she entered. Read her entry and offer a response--reader feedback is one of the criteria the judges will use.
Thanks!
Thanks!
Monday, August 24, 2009
Fig Tree time
It's that marvelous Gospel of the call of Nathanael, whom Jesus saw under the fig tree before Philip even told Nathanael about the Lord. Obviously, Nathanael had some kind of encounter with the Lord in that shady place of prayer, because when Jesus alluded to the fig tree, Nathanael of Cana was won over. For life. And for death, which tradition came says in a particularly gruesome manner for the Apostle also known as Bartholomew. (No, you don't really want to know.)
I still have some fig tree time left after a day with a few unexpected encounters with, among other things, a shuttered produce store I went out of my way to go to. (By way of fresh vegetables, we were down to one bag of carrots in the fridge today, a problem that has since been resolved.) I came home with my hem ripped out, too, but I am not going to bring my sewing kit to my place under the fig tree. (The lighting's no good for that, anyway.)
Re: the header, I'll give readers until Friday to weigh in. So far it looks as though the elegant blue design is the favorite...
I still have some fig tree time left after a day with a few unexpected encounters with, among other things, a shuttered produce store I went out of my way to go to. (By way of fresh vegetables, we were down to one bag of carrots in the fridge today, a problem that has since been resolved.) I came home with my hem ripped out, too, but I am not going to bring my sewing kit to my place under the fig tree. (The lighting's no good for that, anyway.)
Re: the header, I'll give readers until Friday to weigh in. So far it looks as though the elegant blue design is the favorite...
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Header work
Okay, I took some of your input and played around with Photoshop today. That's a new header since yesterday. (While I was at it, I created a new header for Sr. Julia's blog, too).
Here are some other options for this blog header, all variations on the same theme. (I am nowhere near as photogenic as Sr. Julia, so don't expect my face on a header anytime soon.)
Which one do you recommend I go with for the time being?
Here are some other options for this blog header, all variations on the same theme. (I am nowhere near as photogenic as Sr. Julia, so don't expect my face on a header anytime soon.)
Which one do you recommend I go with for the time being?
Vow Day
We're waiting for pictures, but this morning one of our novices donned her habit for the first time (she received it in a simple ceremony on Thursday), was called by a new name (actually, we add a name to our Baptismal name) and made her first vows. Rejoice with the newest professed sister of the Daughters of St. Paul, Sr. Kelly Andrew Marie!
legacy tech
While I was in Boston, Sr. Margaret Charles provided me with some CDs of photos from our Pauline history. She also had a Zip disk (remember those?) of images from our brothers, but no way to retrieve them! "Hand it over," I said. I still have a Zip drive. And a really old laptop. (11 years old! Dad got it for me 
when I left for Italy--Aug. 23, 1998. Still works great! It's just that it only has 4 gb total drive space. Between two hard drives.)
So yesterday I found put together a legacy office with these artifacts. Since the laptop has no ethernet (it has a 56.6 kb modem card, but I seem to have lost the adapter for the phone cord), I had no way of installing an SD card reader, so I brought out an external CD burner (super fast 8X!) (only 9 years old). It took a bit to jog my memory into recalling how to use the burner, but I was able to transfer the files from the Zip disk to a CD for Sr. Margaret.
Just the other day, Sr. Helena went through one of our closets, pulling out a collection of little 35 mm (i.e., "film") cameras*, old phones and similar items that we can't bear to part with. (It just seems against poverty!) I think I'll hang on to my legacy office for a while, though. (Plus, I'll admit it: those old peripherals cost $100 -$200 each, so I still don't really believe we've gotten a full return on that investment.)
What legacy tech do you still hang onto? Have you had reason to bless the Lord that you still had it? What legacy tech to you wish you still had?
*Plus one really nice SLR... Looking for one?
when I left for Italy--Aug. 23, 1998. Still works great! It's just that it only has 4 gb total drive space. Between two hard drives.)So yesterday I found put together a legacy office with these artifacts. Since the laptop has no ethernet (it has a 56.6 kb modem card, but I seem to have lost the adapter for the phone cord), I had no way of installing an SD card reader, so I brought out an external CD burner (super fast 8X!) (only 9 years old). It took a bit to jog my memory into recalling how to use the burner, but I was able to transfer the files from the Zip disk to a CD for Sr. Margaret.
Just the other day, Sr. Helena went through one of our closets, pulling out a collection of little 35 mm (i.e., "film") cameras*, old phones and similar items that we can't bear to part with. (It just seems against poverty!) I think I'll hang on to my legacy office for a while, though. (Plus, I'll admit it: those old peripherals cost $100 -$200 each, so I still don't really believe we've gotten a full return on that investment.)
What legacy tech do you still hang onto? Have you had reason to bless the Lord that you still had it? What legacy tech to you wish you still had?
*Plus one really nice SLR... Looking for one?
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Switcheroo
I've wanted to create a custom header for the longest time. Something, well, ironic. It's still in process (the coding was the hardest part, so far). Reactions? Suggestions? Preferences? Coding tips for some of the weird things I can't seem to fix--like the cut-off widget from the Vatican, the extraneous bits of code that are out there (I can't find them in the template), the fact that whether I float:right or left or $startSide the sidebar stays to the left? I'm wide open here for input and help!
Countdown!
This year's feast of St. Bernard marks the 95th anniversary of the founding of the Pauline Family, and hence the countdown (five years isn't so far away) to the centenary.
The worldwide Pauline Family started when two little boys (perhaps the two in the front row; I don't have the names of all of those in the photo) entered the "Little Worker Printing School" in Alba (famous for its truffles). The school opened that day under the guidance of Fr. Alberione (seen here casually seated by St. Paul's outstretched, sword-bearing arm).
At first, their ministry was focused on the Catholic newspaper of the Diocese of Alba, the "Gazetta d'Alba" (seen in the child's hands). The boys learned how to typeset and print the paper (as well as function as regular newsboys hawking the copies). In 1918, the Daughters of St. Paul would take over another struggling Alpine paper, the Valsusa, learning typesetting and printing from the boys. But Fr. Alberione knew that the paper was just a way to get basic training in printing arts. He had his sights set on the world, not on the dioceses of Piemonte. And he intended, right from the start, to create a network of collaborators who had the same vision.
The bow-tied gent in the uppermost row was the seminarian Joseph Giaccardo; he received special permission from the bishop to continue his seminary studies while serving as a kind of resident at the School (Fr. Alberione was on the seminary faculty and was obliged to live on premises). Giaccardo was the first priest ordained for the Society of St. Paul (which technically did not exist as a religious congregation when he was ordained for it, which was a bit of a stretch of Canon Law). He is now known as Bl. Timothy Giaccardo, having taken the name of Paul's beloved disciple when he made his vows.
So...happy birthday to us!
The picture actually dates circa 1917; the little boy (actually he was 14) on the right-hand side with the serious expression and the impressive cravat died of the Spanish flu in 1918. (He is Ven. Maggiorino Vigolungo.)
The worldwide Pauline Family started when two little boys (perhaps the two in the front row; I don't have the names of all of those in the photo) entered the "Little Worker Printing School" in Alba (famous for its truffles). The school opened that day under the guidance of Fr. Alberione (seen here casually seated by St. Paul's outstretched, sword-bearing arm).At first, their ministry was focused on the Catholic newspaper of the Diocese of Alba, the "Gazetta d'Alba" (seen in the child's hands). The boys learned how to typeset and print the paper (as well as function as regular newsboys hawking the copies). In 1918, the Daughters of St. Paul would take over another struggling Alpine paper, the Valsusa, learning typesetting and printing from the boys. But Fr. Alberione knew that the paper was just a way to get basic training in printing arts. He had his sights set on the world, not on the dioceses of Piemonte. And he intended, right from the start, to create a network of collaborators who had the same vision.
The bow-tied gent in the uppermost row was the seminarian Joseph Giaccardo; he received special permission from the bishop to continue his seminary studies while serving as a kind of resident at the School (Fr. Alberione was on the seminary faculty and was obliged to live on premises). Giaccardo was the first priest ordained for the Society of St. Paul (which technically did not exist as a religious congregation when he was ordained for it, which was a bit of a stretch of Canon Law). He is now known as Bl. Timothy Giaccardo, having taken the name of Paul's beloved disciple when he made his vows.
So...happy birthday to us!
The picture actually dates circa 1917; the little boy (actually he was 14) on the right-hand side with the serious expression and the impressive cravat died of the Spanish flu in 1918. (He is Ven. Maggiorino Vigolungo.)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Summer Reading
Over the past five weeks I've been able to read (or finish) reading a wonderful little stack of books, and get started on a whole new stack. (When I was in the playpen, my parents told me, "Books are our friends," and I believed them!)
Have you read any of these? I recommend them all!
Currently reading:
Have you read any of these? I recommend them all!
- Inhabiting the Cruciform God (Michael Gorman): I wrote about this earlier. It's a terrific study of what Gorman believes is Paul's central "narrative" and the pattern of our life in Christ. You need some background in Scripture to follow him, though.
- Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosity (Robert L. Moore): a Jungian Christian analyst looks at the spiritual life and what the fathers would simply call the sin of pride. (I read this on retreat and it's full of bookmarks for me to go over with Jesus during the year.)
- Thank God Ahead of Time: The Life and Spirituality of Solanus Casey (Michael Crosby, OFM Cap). I had heard about Fr. Casey, but this is the first I've ever read of his life. This book, too, now features a number of bookmarked spots for leisurely rereading.
- Musicophilia (Oliver Sacks). Subtitle is "Tales of Music and the Brain." Need I say more?
- Hiking the Camino: 500 Miles with Jesus (Fr. Dave Pivonka): Since I visited Campostela in 2006 (thanks again, Karen!), and cannot reasonably ever expect to make the whole Camino, I have enjoyed doing the Camino vicariously through the new of books that have been coming out by Catholic caministas like Joyce Rupp ("Walk in a Leisurely Manner") and others. Fr. Pivonka's book would be a terrific catechetical companion for the pilgrimage, because he relates the various aspects of camino life to dimensions of faith and spirituality.
- Play: How It Shapes the Brain, Opens the Imagination, and Invigorates the Soul (Stuart Brown). This is by one of those business gurus who goes around helping corporations loosen up and get their creative juices back. Brown is actually a psychologist who did years and years of study on the importance of play and how vital it is in shaping the brain and keeping us functioning as human beings. Play keeps us young! If we forget how to play, we also forget how to adapt to new or unexpected circumstances. We get stuck. We might even die.
- A Whole New Mind: Why Right-brainers Will Rule the Future (Daniel Pink). Another business guru book (he even cites some of the same stories and quotes as Brown in "Play"!); kind of the same idea as Brown's book, but covering six dimensions of "right-brain" activity with practical suggestions for exercising that muscle.
- Franz Jagerstatter: Letters and Writings from Prison. This Austrian farmer gave himself so wholeheartedly to the Gospel that he could not justify any cooperation with the Nazi government, not even hospital service (because he could not, in conscience, make the oath of loyalty to the party). What is remarkable about these writings is not that the writings are remarkable (although there are a couple of striking insights), but how this ordinary man found in such remarkable meaning in what sound like Catholic commonplaces: reason enough to stand up alone against the Third Reich.
Currently reading:
- The Stuff of Thought: Language as a Window into Human Nature (Steven Pinker). I am only on Chapter 2 of this investigation into how language works, how we learn it and use it, and what that implies.
- Jesus of Nazareth (Benedict XVI). I confess I only opened this book a week ago. I have been so intimidated by what Time (or was it US News?) called the Pope's "stratospheric intellect" that I kept this amazingly lovely and readable text at arms length since its release! Don't make the same mistake I did. "Take and read."
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Coming up empty
My sister Mary emailed me today with a question about the upcoming Vatican Visitation of US religious communities. Since her colleagues in the surgery department were talking about it, Mary wanted something of an inside scoop. Her subject line ("Nuns vs. Vatican?") seems to sum up what is going through many people's minds.
Just yesterday I read an essay on the matter by the brilliant Sr. Sandra Schneiders. Rather than dealing with the substance of the Visitation (which can be at least deduced by a review of the questions) Schneiders focuses on the process, likening it to a grand jury or a "sting" operation. (To dismiss the appointed Visitor as "an unknown among U.S. women religious who include in their number a virtual "hall of fame" of outstanding, highly credible women .... [and who] belongs to a small order with one small province in the United States" was just cheap.)
Early in the essay, Schneiders hints that the key issues will be clothing and convents, and maybe some demographic problems. All of these she dismisses blithely. It bothers me that even now some of the women who made such rapid, almost frenzied changes in the externals of their life can't bring themselves to consider the possibility that it may not have proven all that prophetic in the end, or that some values that they did not fully recognize at the time really were compromised. Later in the essay, Schneiders dismisses the drastic drop in vocations with an appeal to increased opportunities for women and the decreased size of Catholic families. I was a teenager in the 70's. No way was I even tempted to throw in my lot with a group of women whose behavior at the time was so grotesquely immature. I could not have been the only Catholic girl who saw things that way. Could that possibly have had something to do with the precipitous decline in entrances? But that is all past, not issues of the present day, and certainly not something that would provoke a Visitation forty years too late to make a difference.
According to the New York Times, the Visitation is prompted by the witness of "nuns 'who have opted for ways that take them outside' the church" (quoting Cardinal Rodé, head of the Vatican office that oversees religious communities). As an example, I can cite the current issue of "New Theology Review": Fr. Robin Ryan, CP, writes of "some religious [who] no longer, or only on rare occasions, participate in the celebration of the Eucharist" because the presider is male. If you're the Vatican, that's a big problem, because the Eucharist is the heart of the Church's life, and religious life belongs essentially to the life and holiness of the Church. (Among the questions that form the basis of the Visitation, several concern the celebration of the Eucharist.)
It is more than possible that there are some communities or some individual religious who believe they are carrying out a prophetic role in the Church by protesting patriarchy or redefining religious life or going "beyond Christ." They may believe they are called to be instruments of change, leading the People of God into new, daring places. If so, they must have expected to put their necks on the line at some point. Or has it all been just a game, with the prophets of change hedging their bets the whole time, assuming that the Church would never ask the questions they didn't want to (or just couldn't) answer? Some reactions sure make it look that way.
All that said, part of the pique is that the questions seem mostly directed to the "progressive" side of religious life. There are many communities that would be considered "traditional" which have unique (and serious) troubles of their own, but those issues do not seem to be on the front burner. (It probably would have been wise for the Vatican to be more inclusive!)
Since religious life belongs by its nature to the life and holiness of the Church, and is not some sort of third-level decoration or option, the Church has every right to see to it that it is being lived as a witness to the truth of the Kingdom of God, the universal redemption of Jesus, and the transformation of our minds by the Holy Spirit, and not according to the spirit of the age we happen to be in.
Interestingly, today's liturgy has something of a connection overall. Gideon, called by God to rescue Israel from its enemies, looks at himself and sees the least significant member of the least significant family of the tribe of Manasseh. Peter looks on as the rich young man turns and walks away, taking all his advantages and connections with him. Gideon, with no strength of his own, finds his peace in God's promise to be with him. Peter and the others who "have given up everything" can count on Jesus to do what is impossible for human beings, but not for God. It's no different for the religious of the over 400 women's communities in the US. So please pray for the good outcome of the Visitation. There's also a Facebook page where you can commit to pray for this; you'll also get updates about the Visitation.
Just yesterday I read an essay on the matter by the brilliant Sr. Sandra Schneiders. Rather than dealing with the substance of the Visitation (which can be at least deduced by a review of the questions) Schneiders focuses on the process, likening it to a grand jury or a "sting" operation. (To dismiss the appointed Visitor as "an unknown among U.S. women religious who include in their number a virtual "hall of fame" of outstanding, highly credible women .... [and who] belongs to a small order with one small province in the United States" was just cheap.)
Early in the essay, Schneiders hints that the key issues will be clothing and convents, and maybe some demographic problems. All of these she dismisses blithely. It bothers me that even now some of the women who made such rapid, almost frenzied changes in the externals of their life can't bring themselves to consider the possibility that it may not have proven all that prophetic in the end, or that some values that they did not fully recognize at the time really were compromised. Later in the essay, Schneiders dismisses the drastic drop in vocations with an appeal to increased opportunities for women and the decreased size of Catholic families. I was a teenager in the 70's. No way was I even tempted to throw in my lot with a group of women whose behavior at the time was so grotesquely immature. I could not have been the only Catholic girl who saw things that way. Could that possibly have had something to do with the precipitous decline in entrances? But that is all past, not issues of the present day, and certainly not something that would provoke a Visitation forty years too late to make a difference.
According to the New York Times, the Visitation is prompted by the witness of "nuns 'who have opted for ways that take them outside' the church" (quoting Cardinal Rodé, head of the Vatican office that oversees religious communities). As an example, I can cite the current issue of "New Theology Review": Fr. Robin Ryan, CP, writes of "some religious [who] no longer, or only on rare occasions, participate in the celebration of the Eucharist" because the presider is male. If you're the Vatican, that's a big problem, because the Eucharist is the heart of the Church's life, and religious life belongs essentially to the life and holiness of the Church. (Among the questions that form the basis of the Visitation, several concern the celebration of the Eucharist.)
It is more than possible that there are some communities or some individual religious who believe they are carrying out a prophetic role in the Church by protesting patriarchy or redefining religious life or going "beyond Christ." They may believe they are called to be instruments of change, leading the People of God into new, daring places. If so, they must have expected to put their necks on the line at some point. Or has it all been just a game, with the prophets of change hedging their bets the whole time, assuming that the Church would never ask the questions they didn't want to (or just couldn't) answer? Some reactions sure make it look that way.
All that said, part of the pique is that the questions seem mostly directed to the "progressive" side of religious life. There are many communities that would be considered "traditional" which have unique (and serious) troubles of their own, but those issues do not seem to be on the front burner. (It probably would have been wise for the Vatican to be more inclusive!)
Since religious life belongs by its nature to the life and holiness of the Church, and is not some sort of third-level decoration or option, the Church has every right to see to it that it is being lived as a witness to the truth of the Kingdom of God, the universal redemption of Jesus, and the transformation of our minds by the Holy Spirit, and not according to the spirit of the age we happen to be in.
Interestingly, today's liturgy has something of a connection overall. Gideon, called by God to rescue Israel from its enemies, looks at himself and sees the least significant member of the least significant family of the tribe of Manasseh. Peter looks on as the rich young man turns and walks away, taking all his advantages and connections with him. Gideon, with no strength of his own, finds his peace in God's promise to be with him. Peter and the others who "have given up everything" can count on Jesus to do what is impossible for human beings, but not for God. It's no different for the religious of the over 400 women's communities in the US. So please pray for the good outcome of the Visitation. There's also a Facebook page where you can commit to pray for this; you'll also get updates about the Visitation.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Rich Young Man
I have a framed print "Head of Christ" in my room. Happens to be a detail from a painting of today's Gospel of the "rich young man" who...went away sad. You see the detail of Christ a lot more
often than you see the full picture--or a detail of his young questioner. (I still remember Pope John Paul's great homily on that Gospel, begging the young people before him, "Do not go away sad!")Just found the greatest little piece from a February "Colbert Report" to go with the Gospel, too. Enjoy!
Back Home
I always expect some surprises when I get home from these long absences. (I wasn't shocked that the Aerogarden plants were dying.) I've gotten used to finding stuff in the fridge that had been there since I left, like the plastic container of tzatziki (Greek yogurt dip) I had made sometime in early July. Nobody had touched it; it was topped with a pouf of mold so puffy it could have been spun into yarn. There were some good surprises, too: since I left, the lighting people had been through, and now I actually have adequate office lighting! I can get rid of the two floor lamps I brought up from the basement last year: that will give me two more electrical outlets to plug technology into! I plowed through my mail (Staples rewards! the latest issue of Wired! a card from Mom!). I found ice cream in the freezer. I found that someone had cleaned my room and washed all my linens for me. I found the Tribune "Good Eating" sections piled by my door.
So here I am in my Michigan Avenue perch, with the rain dispersed and a bit of sunshine edging its way down from the Millennium Park area. I'm unpacked, my technology is mostly put away or ready to use. I even did my exercise!
Time to roll up my sleeves and play catch-up, while memories dance through my head (along with a single line from the "Ave Maris Stella," which was one of the first chants we recorded three weeks ago). (You can hear it on the new music player I installed in the sidebar. Just remember: this is a very rough mix. Even the music base is a rough mix, never mind our voices!)
So here I am in my Michigan Avenue perch, with the rain dispersed and a bit of sunshine edging its way down from the Millennium Park area. I'm unpacked, my technology is mostly put away or ready to use. I even did my exercise!
Time to roll up my sleeves and play catch-up, while memories dance through my head (along with a single line from the "Ave Maris Stella," which was one of the first chants we recorded three weeks ago). (You can hear it on the new music player I installed in the sidebar. Just remember: this is a very rough mix. Even the music base is a rough mix, never mind our voices!)
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Can't wait to see this "Throwdown"!
Mt. St. Mary's Seminary became the site of a Food Network Throwdown when Chef Bobby Flay invaded Fr. Leo Patalinghug's cookout. Can't wait to see it on TV! (To stay informed, visit Fr. Leo's site: http://www.gracebeforemeals.com/)
Sneak preview
Sr. Bridget put together a "rough mix" of several clips from our work over the past several weeks so I'd have something to share with the wider world--especially since the first CD of this project won't be released until next May.... Since two of these are Marian, today's Solemnity of the Assumption is a fitting day to offer the samples.
O Filii et Filiae (just a clip!)
Tota Pulchra Es, Maria (chant, just a clip!)
Ave, Maris Stella (chant, solemn tone, just a clip!)
Crux Fidelis (chant plus polyphonic hymn setting by King John IV of Portugal: the whole piece!) (This is one of the songs that took us two days to finally nail.)
Please link to these files; we'd appreciate it if you not download them or upload them to other servers.
In a week or two, we will be having a "poll" to see what titles to give the eventual two CDs. That will probably be done on Facebook, so if you are not already a fan of the "Daughters of St. Paul Choir," join now! (We'll be posting our Christmas concert schedule soon, too: two new cities this year! Alexandria, VA and Cleveland!)
O Filii et Filiae (just a clip!)
Tota Pulchra Es, Maria (chant, just a clip!)
Ave, Maris Stella (chant, solemn tone, just a clip!)
Crux Fidelis (chant plus polyphonic hymn setting by King John IV of Portugal: the whole piece!) (This is one of the songs that took us two days to finally nail.)
Please link to these files; we'd appreciate it if you not download them or upload them to other servers.
In a week or two, we will be having a "poll" to see what titles to give the eventual two CDs. That will probably be done on Facebook, so if you are not already a fan of the "Daughters of St. Paul Choir," join now! (We'll be posting our Christmas concert schedule soon, too: two new cities this year! Alexandria, VA and Cleveland!)
Third Place
On this great (and oh-so-ancient) feast of the Assumption (or "Dormition") of Mary, when she was taken up to second highest place in heaven, I learned that I have been recognized for third place! Not in heaven (not yet!), but among Chicago haiku-writing Twitter users. (How's that for a narrowing of classification?)
Here's my haiku for the feast of the Assumption:
She who received Him
was then received by Jesus
and now waits for us.
Got a feastday haiku to share?
(Gotta admit: today's liturgy, including the Liturgy of the Hours Morning Prayer, was so rich, I felt overwhelmed. Going back to chapel for my hour of adoration almost feels like overkill!) Will write more later, God willing. Today we have a holiday and I hope to visit nearby Holy Transfiguration Monastery to see their icon of the Dormition, and also of the Hodegetria (my favorite).
Here's my haiku for the feast of the Assumption:
She who received Him
was then received by Jesus
and now waits for us.
Got a feastday haiku to share?
(Gotta admit: today's liturgy, including the Liturgy of the Hours Morning Prayer, was so rich, I felt overwhelmed. Going back to chapel for my hour of adoration almost feels like overkill!) Will write more later, God willing. Today we have a holiday and I hope to visit nearby Holy Transfiguration Monastery to see their icon of the Dormition, and also of the Hodegetria (my favorite).
Friday, August 14, 2009
Salvation History
34 years ago today, about 4:00 in the afternoon, I entered the convent and came to live in this very house. (My roommates at the time--in the very same room I am currently occupying--are now Sr. Julia Mary and Sr. Christine Virginia.) So today's first reading has a particular kind of resonance for me. In it, the Israelites have just entered the Promised Land, and before they move, clan by clan, into their distinct territories, Joshua relates their "salvation history"--but from God's perspective, not theirs. In God's name, he tells them, "I gave you a land which you had not tilled and cities which you had not built, to dwell in; you have eaten of vineyards and olive groves which you did not plant."
That was true for me, too, when I came here at 18 and found spacious buildings and a lovely chapel, food on the table (and sisters around it). Others had "done the labor and I had come into the gain." Many of those who worked and prepared so amply for me then are here in this house today: Sr. Sharon Anne (then Sr. Mary Irma), who met me at the Eastern Airlines terminal of Logan Airport to welcome me to my new home, sat a few rows behind me this morning at Mass--it was almost the same pew she occupied as my Postulant Directress! Sr. Mary Timothy, who was the local superior of the New Orleans community when I entered and kept my family involved in community events back home is now in our "senior sisters" wing here (but still busy making lovely rosaries for the New Orleans center). Sr. Mary Veronica had a basted-together postulant's uniform ready for me when I entered (Mother Paula had given her a surprisingly accurate size estimate for the custom-made habit); she is here, too.
Other sisters with me at Mass came after I did. I approached Communion side by side with Sr. Kathryn James, who just celebrated her 25th anniversary. Coming at the end of the Communion line was Sr. Chrissy, the organist, a junior sister who will be going to Rome at the end of the month to prepare for final vows (next summer) along with Sr. Fay, with whom I've been singing for three weeks.
The Responsorial Psalm is just right for me on this special day: Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good: His mercy endures forever.
That was true for me, too, when I came here at 18 and found spacious buildings and a lovely chapel, food on the table (and sisters around it). Others had "done the labor and I had come into the gain." Many of those who worked and prepared so amply for me then are here in this house today: Sr. Sharon Anne (then Sr. Mary Irma), who met me at the Eastern Airlines terminal of Logan Airport to welcome me to my new home, sat a few rows behind me this morning at Mass--it was almost the same pew she occupied as my Postulant Directress! Sr. Mary Timothy, who was the local superior of the New Orleans community when I entered and kept my family involved in community events back home is now in our "senior sisters" wing here (but still busy making lovely rosaries for the New Orleans center). Sr. Mary Veronica had a basted-together postulant's uniform ready for me when I entered (Mother Paula had given her a surprisingly accurate size estimate for the custom-made habit); she is here, too.
Other sisters with me at Mass came after I did. I approached Communion side by side with Sr. Kathryn James, who just celebrated her 25th anniversary. Coming at the end of the Communion line was Sr. Chrissy, the organist, a junior sister who will be going to Rome at the end of the month to prepare for final vows (next summer) along with Sr. Fay, with whom I've been singing for three weeks.
The Responsorial Psalm is just right for me on this special day: Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good: His mercy endures forever.
Love in Truth
It has taken me quite a while, but last night I finally finished a first read-through of the Pope's encyclical "Caritas in Veritate."
I'm glad I completed this "assignment" from the Holy Father, and I hope to learn how to apply his insights in a practical manner in clarifying my thoughts in the areas he touched upon.
Have you read the encyclical yet? What struck you the most, or surprised you the most?
It was kind of hard going here and there; in part because I read it off and on, in part because I'm just not that up on the issues in international development and economics. I found that toward the end of the document I was better able to follow the Pope's insights. Of course, that's when he got into what is for me more familiar territory: environmental concerns (#21, 49, 51), theology of the body (some great stuff there, around #54), technology ( #68-70) and its impact on culture (#73) and on human life itself (#74-75).
Pope Benedict makes some pretty strong claims: not all religions deserve equal status (some come down to having only one adherent!) (#55); religion itself needs to be "purified" and corrected by reason ("religion" as the human element; revelation itself can't be subjected to reason) (#56); the exclusion of religion from the public square is the reverse side of fundamentalism--and either extreme endangers human rights (#56); there needs to be "a true world political authority....vested with effective power" (#67).I'm glad I completed this "assignment" from the Holy Father, and I hope to learn how to apply his insights in a practical manner in clarifying my thoughts in the areas he touched upon.
Have you read the encyclical yet? What struck you the most, or surprised you the most?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Wadin' in the water
The old spiritual about God troublin' the waters could be a good one for today's first reading. It's the antithesis of the Exodus event (you could say it was the Introit to Israel's Exodus): Israel is now leaving the desert and crossing the water into the Promised Land. Like the waters of the Red Sea, the waters of the Jordan River stop short in the presence "of the Lord of the whole earth," symbolically stationed in the riverbed by means of the Ark of the Covenant. As soon as the bearers of the Ark step foot into the Jordan, its southbound waters disappear, while the incoming flow builds up ever northward, and the people make their way dry-shod just as their parents did 40 years earlier.
Nature itself responds to the presence of the Lord. The one thing God deserves the most from us is responsiveness; sensitivity to his presence. Yet this seems to be what has become the most dulled in our hearts and minds. We seem to anticipate from God the hardness of heart we find in ourselves (as mirrored so chillingly in today's Gospel of the forgiven-but-unforgiving servant). Expecting only judgment, do we shield ourselves from God's presence? How can we begin to peek around that defensive shield and take the risk of recognizing and receiving God's love, whatever our situation?
Nature itself responds to the presence of the Lord. The one thing God deserves the most from us is responsiveness; sensitivity to his presence. Yet this seems to be what has become the most dulled in our hearts and minds. We seem to anticipate from God the hardness of heart we find in ourselves (as mirrored so chillingly in today's Gospel of the forgiven-but-unforgiving servant). Expecting only judgment, do we shield ourselves from God's presence? How can we begin to peek around that defensive shield and take the risk of recognizing and receiving God's love, whatever our situation?
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The hardest commandment in the Bible
It's in today's Gospel. Not exactly a "commandment" as in "Thou Shalt Not," this is one of Jesus' teachings on how his disciples ought to live in community. "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone."
The superior of my community in Chicago is especially gifted in this kind of social reconciliation. A few years ago, I came home from a class feeling quite "set upon" by the professor, who tended to respond with sarcasm to any attempt of mine to participate in the program. (I didn't know it at the time, but the prof had had a few run-ins with the Holy See, and as I was the only person in a habit in this class on religious life, I must have been a kind of unwelcome reminder of that experience.) My superior's response to me when I detailed the treatment I had received was, "Why don't you invite her to supper with us?" (I confess that I didn't find it in me to follow this advice.)
Is it just me, or is there something kind of intimidating in Jesus' stipulation "between you and him alone"? When someone has violated my rights or hurt me in some way, my instinctive reaction is to get people "on my side." I want reassurance that, yes, I am the innocent party here; yes, I was set upon in some way; yes, the "other person" bears full responsibility. If I'm going to bring the matter up with the offending party, I want to have supporters backing me up.
If it's just "between you and him alone," we're on equal footing, and the other party may have something valid to say to me. I might learn that I am more than the recipient of an injustice; that I have my own part to play in this little incident; that I have my own apology to make. (Or not, as was the case with the professor and her "issues.")
At any rate, today's Gospel represents a big challenge for me. What about you?
The superior of my community in Chicago is especially gifted in this kind of social reconciliation. A few years ago, I came home from a class feeling quite "set upon" by the professor, who tended to respond with sarcasm to any attempt of mine to participate in the program. (I didn't know it at the time, but the prof had had a few run-ins with the Holy See, and as I was the only person in a habit in this class on religious life, I must have been a kind of unwelcome reminder of that experience.) My superior's response to me when I detailed the treatment I had received was, "Why don't you invite her to supper with us?" (I confess that I didn't find it in me to follow this advice.)
Is it just me, or is there something kind of intimidating in Jesus' stipulation "between you and him alone"? When someone has violated my rights or hurt me in some way, my instinctive reaction is to get people "on my side." I want reassurance that, yes, I am the innocent party here; yes, I was set upon in some way; yes, the "other person" bears full responsibility. If I'm going to bring the matter up with the offending party, I want to have supporters backing me up.
If it's just "between you and him alone," we're on equal footing, and the other party may have something valid to say to me. I might learn that I am more than the recipient of an injustice; that I have my own part to play in this little incident; that I have my own apology to make. (Or not, as was the case with the professor and her "issues.")
At any rate, today's Gospel represents a big challenge for me. What about you?
Bookshelf
Readers of this blog know that I am intensely interested in Pope John Paul's major contributions in the "Theology of the Body" (a term that owes its current popularity precisely to the late Pope's writings). Naturally, it was in a TOB key that I opened the recently released "Sexual 
Authenticity: An Intimate Reflection on Homosexuality and Catholicism" by Melinda Selmys. If this book had not been published by Our Sunday Visitor, I probably would have hesitated to open it, but OSV can be counted on for reverence to the human person, and to mirror Church teachings in areas that our culture finds controversial—and "homosexuality and Catholicism" is nothing if not controversial today! Then, too, there was more than one sexually conflicted person on the family tree, so I brought both personal and professional interest to this book.
Selmys offers her own story as a framework for a kind of cultural history of the gay experience in the late 20th century, along with references to gay advocacy agendas (she cites the texts), statistics (real and fabricated), the question of "reparative therapies" (can you "change" orientation?), and the sometimes thuggish, clearly self-centered behaviors on the part of both gay and religious "reformers." You can't put her in a convenient box: she knows and tells both sides of the story, but with a richness that comes from her appreciation of the mystery of the Theology of the Body.
I found Selmys' approach curiously intellectual (more "intellectual" than "intimate," to tell the truth), but as someone who has made a journey from atheist/agnostic-feminist-lesbian to Catholic-homeschooling-mother-of-four, she brings a unique perspective to the subject. Not that she "converted" from gay to straight: She remains friends with her former lover, but prudently arranges that her husband or another friend always be present when they meet or speak. Even now, she writes, she is "not attracted to men, but to one man, my husband." That one line tells me so much about our society; how we have been sold a bill of goods that defines gay or straight on the basis of an "attraction" that is totally impersonal—and in the long run, abstract. It is the opposite of the Theology of the Body, which places the human person at the center (as Pope John Paul wrote in another context, "each and every human person, who comes into being beneath the heart of his mother").
(I received this book from "The Catholic Company," so if it interests you, please click on the link to order it from them.)
Authenticity: An Intimate Reflection on Homosexuality and Catholicism" by Melinda Selmys. If this book had not been published by Our Sunday Visitor, I probably would have hesitated to open it, but OSV can be counted on for reverence to the human person, and to mirror Church teachings in areas that our culture finds controversial—and "homosexuality and Catholicism" is nothing if not controversial today! Then, too, there was more than one sexually conflicted person on the family tree, so I brought both personal and professional interest to this book.Selmys offers her own story as a framework for a kind of cultural history of the gay experience in the late 20th century, along with references to gay advocacy agendas (she cites the texts), statistics (real and fabricated), the question of "reparative therapies" (can you "change" orientation?), and the sometimes thuggish, clearly self-centered behaviors on the part of both gay and religious "reformers." You can't put her in a convenient box: she knows and tells both sides of the story, but with a richness that comes from her appreciation of the mystery of the Theology of the Body.
I found Selmys' approach curiously intellectual (more "intellectual" than "intimate," to tell the truth), but as someone who has made a journey from atheist/agnostic-feminist-lesbian to Catholic-homeschooling-mother-of-four, she brings a unique perspective to the subject. Not that she "converted" from gay to straight: She remains friends with her former lover, but prudently arranges that her husband or another friend always be present when they meet or speak. Even now, she writes, she is "not attracted to men, but to one man, my husband." That one line tells me so much about our society; how we have been sold a bill of goods that defines gay or straight on the basis of an "attraction" that is totally impersonal—and in the long run, abstract. It is the opposite of the Theology of the Body, which places the human person at the center (as Pope John Paul wrote in another context, "each and every human person, who comes into being beneath the heart of his mother").
(I received this book from "The Catholic Company," so if it interests you, please click on the link to order it from them.)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Clare vision
Kind of a lame pun on today's saint, the patron of television... Some of the ads promoting participation in Boston's about-to-be-inaugurated perpetual adoration feature a TV screen on one side, with the word "Reality?"; the other side has the Eucharist in a monstrance, with the word "Reality." That makes for an interesting connection with St. Clare, patron saint of TV, usually depicted holding a monstrance with the Blessed Sacrament.
The responsorial psalm for today's Mass just happens to have a Franciscan "keyword" in it: "The portion of the Lord is his people." For Franciscans, the "little portion" was the tiny chapel of Our Lady, one of the churches Francis rebuilt with his own hands. According to St. Bonaventure (who wrote an authoritative life of St. Francis), "he loved this spot more than any other on the earth." It became the "home base" for his fledgling community, and it was here that Francis died. So a fitting response on the feast of the "first lady" of the Franciscan charism.
The responsorial psalm for today's Mass just happens to have a Franciscan "keyword" in it: "The portion of the Lord is his people." For Franciscans, the "little portion" was the tiny chapel of Our Lady, one of the churches Francis rebuilt with his own hands. According to St. Bonaventure (who wrote an authoritative life of St. Francis), "he loved this spot more than any other on the earth." It became the "home base" for his fledgling community, and it was here that Francis died. So a fitting response on the feast of the "first lady" of the Franciscan charism.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Boston: The Return of Perpetual Adoration
St. Clement's Eucharistic Shrine was reopened when I was a novice here in Boston. (We sang for the Mass, and then for the ordination of the OMV deacons that same year.) Gradually, the Oblates of the Virgin Mary have made St. Clement's a dynamic Catholic presence, with a big base population of students from the nearby music schools. They've had adoration for several hours a day, and as of Saturday, have lined up the necessary committed adorers to inaugurate ongoing adoration, 
24/7.
An equally committed group has been promoting the event through billboards and ads on public transit. This hasn't escaped the notice of the Boston Globe, which gave the story front-page, above-the-fold coverage today. The article seems quite accurate and well-researched. But I was taken aback at the way the writer repeatedly used the word "wafer" to refer to the Eucharist. I understand that a secular newspaper is going to want the most objective language possible, but there are other appropriate ways to refer to what we Catholics call the "Blessed Sacrament." "Sacrament," "eucharist" or "host" would all be acceptable in a secular paper. And would allow for better writing than the drip, drip, drip of the unimaginative word "wafer." I got the impression that this is the writer's first contact with Catholic worship; he may not even know any practicing Catholics who are literate in their faith!
Be that as it may, the article is inspiring overall. I especially liked the quote from the USCCB's Sr. Mary Ann Walsh, referring to "the real presence of people before the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist." If you are in the Boston area, be sure to stop in the Back Bay's Eucharistic Shrine.
24/7.An equally committed group has been promoting the event through billboards and ads on public transit. This hasn't escaped the notice of the Boston Globe, which gave the story front-page, above-the-fold coverage today. The article seems quite accurate and well-researched. But I was taken aback at the way the writer repeatedly used the word "wafer" to refer to the Eucharist. I understand that a secular newspaper is going to want the most objective language possible, but there are other appropriate ways to refer to what we Catholics call the "Blessed Sacrament." "Sacrament," "eucharist" or "host" would all be acceptable in a secular paper. And would allow for better writing than the drip, drip, drip of the unimaginative word "wafer." I got the impression that this is the writer's first contact with Catholic worship; he may not even know any practicing Catholics who are literate in their faith!
Be that as it may, the article is inspiring overall. I especially liked the quote from the USCCB's Sr. Mary Ann Walsh, referring to "the real presence of people before the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist." If you are in the Boston area, be sure to stop in the Back Bay's Eucharistic Shrine.
Saturday, August 08, 2009
We have two sisters with St. Dominic as their patron: both use the Italian feminine version of the name, Domenica (which means "Sunday," so I suppose they would legitimately celebrate their name day every week!). I was so happy to get a few pictures of stained glass windows of St. Dominic while at St. Josaphat's in Milwaukee... It would be even nicer if I could access said pictures for my post, but they are in Chicago, while I am here in Boston. So I will just pass on to you something I learned today in the homily (the priest who celebrated our community Mass is something of a saints maven--he even used a special preface for St. Dominic): it seems that, as a highly learned man from a wealthy family, Dominic Guzman had a considerable library. That is already something; books were copied by hand and so quite rare. (Consider that three centuries later, the Loyola family only had two books in their whole house.) Traveling as the bishop's secretary, Dominic encountered the New Agers of his time, a group called the "Albigensians." Their evangelists led austere lives, and they were attracting many followers. Dominic noticed that one of the attractive things about this group was, in fact, its notable poverty. So he sold off his entire library, leaving himself only two books: The Gospel of Matthew and the Letters of St. Paul.
We have a free day today: free to learn music on our own. So naturally I am blogging. (I also finished reading "A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future" by Daniel H. Pink.) I would be writing up a book review of yet another book (you can see I'm no Dominic.), but...I'm procrastinating. (Wouldn't you be?)
We have a free day today: free to learn music on our own. So naturally I am blogging. (I also finished reading "A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future" by Daniel H. Pink.) I would be writing up a book review of yet another book (you can see I'm no Dominic.), but...I'm procrastinating. (Wouldn't you be?)
Friday, August 07, 2009
Full Day
We managed to do two songs today. (One, "Crux Fidelis," was by King John IV of Portugal, written in 1656--it took us two days to finally conquer His Majesty!) It took pretty much all I had: I didn't even write my little daily haiku for Twitter! Tomorrow we get a bit of space. Technically, it's so we can learn our parts for another song, but...I'm hoping to trail Sr Julia with a camcorder so we can prepare a few more of her video book reviews. And since Mass is at 7:30, we get to sleep in a bit (if you can call 6:00 "sleeping in").
If you're on Facebook, please look up the Daughters of St. Paul Choir and become one of our fans: Sr Bridget promised to provide a little sample of "King John" for the fans, who currently number almost 1800! (Ask your FB friends to become fans, too!)
And, more good news from the choir: it seems as though we'll be expanding our Christmas concert series to new locales this year. Anybody in Northern Virginia? Cleveland? We hope to come your way: pray hard!
If you're on Facebook, please look up the Daughters of St. Paul Choir and become one of our fans: Sr Bridget promised to provide a little sample of "King John" for the fans, who currently number almost 1800! (Ask your FB friends to become fans, too!)
And, more good news from the choir: it seems as though we'll be expanding our Christmas concert series to new locales this year. Anybody in Northern Virginia? Cleveland? We hope to come your way: pray hard!
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Light and glory
Today's feast of the Transfiguration offers an abundance of images to help us get some idea of who Jesus is. He brings his three chosen disciples up to the mountaintop: the place of encounter with God.
They see Moses and Elijah: Moses, who had told the people to expect "another prophet like me" and Elijah, taken up to heaven in a whirlwind, who was supposed to "come back" at the time of the Messiah. (No, this does not mean that Elijah would be reincarnated--someone actually suggested this to me!--Elijah "came" in that prophet who was so much like him, John the Baptist.)
The dark cloud overhead, signaling the presence of God, brings us back to Sinai, and to the entrance of the "meeting Tent" in the desert, and the Temple when Solomon dedicated it. (Luke also hints at the "cloud" in the Annunciation to Mary, when the Angel Gabriel tells her, "The Holy Spirit will cover you with its shadow," bringing about the conception of Jesus.)
By the time the heavenly voice says, "This is my Beloved Son, listen to Him," Peter gets it: this is the fulfillment of the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles or "booths" (it can also be rendered "tents"). That annual festival of outdoor living was not just looking backwards to the desert years: it was looking forward to an eternal dwelling. (That's why we prayed "How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord God of Hosts" in the Liturgy of the Hours this morning.) That's why Peter offers to set up the tents for Jesus and the two prophets.
Not so fast, Peter. This is still an anticipation of the everlasting dwelling place. Jesus has to take us there the long way: the way that passes through Calvary. But at least you've had a glimpse of where things are really headed in the long run.
And so have we.
They see Moses and Elijah: Moses, who had told the people to expect "another prophet like me" and Elijah, taken up to heaven in a whirlwind, who was supposed to "come back" at the time of the Messiah. (No, this does not mean that Elijah would be reincarnated--someone actually suggested this to me!--Elijah "came" in that prophet who was so much like him, John the Baptist.)
The dark cloud overhead, signaling the presence of God, brings us back to Sinai, and to the entrance of the "meeting Tent" in the desert, and the Temple when Solomon dedicated it. (Luke also hints at the "cloud" in the Annunciation to Mary, when the Angel Gabriel tells her, "The Holy Spirit will cover you with its shadow," bringing about the conception of Jesus.)
By the time the heavenly voice says, "This is my Beloved Son, listen to Him," Peter gets it: this is the fulfillment of the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles or "booths" (it can also be rendered "tents"). That annual festival of outdoor living was not just looking backwards to the desert years: it was looking forward to an eternal dwelling. (That's why we prayed "How lovely is your dwelling place, Lord God of Hosts" in the Liturgy of the Hours this morning.) That's why Peter offers to set up the tents for Jesus and the two prophets.
Not so fast, Peter. This is still an anticipation of the everlasting dwelling place. Jesus has to take us there the long way: the way that passes through Calvary. But at least you've had a glimpse of where things are really headed in the long run.
And so have we.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Staking a claim
We're continuing with our recording project... Hopefully today things will go a little more smoothly than they did yesterday. We spent quite a bit of time on a nice piece by King John of Portugal (1635), but just couldn't nail it. Although as a group we tend to be a tad on the sharp side, King John had us hugging the south side of the notes rather consistently. So we gave up on that song and tackled the "Stabat Mater." We figured it would be easier, because it is so consistent in its melody. By the 14th verse, we would have it nailed, right? Not quite. Besides, 14 verses is too many for any song, no matter how beloved. We did record all 14, but we'll see in the end what makes it to the finished album.
To some degree, yesterday's discouraging experiences can parallel today's first reading: the Israelite scouts had gone into the Promised Land, and even came back with some sample produce, but all they could talk about was the spectre of failure and doom. They intimidated themselves with their own report: "This is too big a project for us to tackle." It was a failure of nerve caused (among other things) by a failure of imagination. They didn't even allow themselves to fantasize about winning the land. (What would they have said to the story of Joshua and the walls of Jericho?)
But God has a really wild imagination. Generations later, a descendent of those selfsame Canaanites they saw along the seacoast would bow down before a Son of Judah, as to one who had already won a great victory. And generations after that, a hill of the mighty city of Rome would be crowned with a shrine in honor of a daughter of Israel. (Today's the feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major, also called "Our Lady of the Snows.")
To some degree, yesterday's discouraging experiences can parallel today's first reading: the Israelite scouts had gone into the Promised Land, and even came back with some sample produce, but all they could talk about was the spectre of failure and doom. They intimidated themselves with their own report: "This is too big a project for us to tackle." It was a failure of nerve caused (among other things) by a failure of imagination. They didn't even allow themselves to fantasize about winning the land. (What would they have said to the story of Joshua and the walls of Jericho?)
But God has a really wild imagination. Generations later, a descendent of those selfsame Canaanites they saw along the seacoast would bow down before a Son of Judah, as to one who had already won a great victory. And generations after that, a hill of the mighty city of Rome would be crowned with a shrine in honor of a daughter of Israel. (Today's the feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major, also called "Our Lady of the Snows.")
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
St John Vianney was one of the first saints whose life I read in a full length biography. My dad had quite a good Catholic library, with many of the classics (including an early printing of the Merton's Seven Storey Mountain--the version is so new, it actually introduces Thomas Merton to the reader). So I helped myself to a slim volume, "Saint Jean-Marie Vianney, The Cure' of Ars," and began to read it in my room. Alone.
Not a good idea.
About the time "Old Scratch" banged on Vianney's rectory door (with no footprints anywhere to be seen, of course), I bolted nervously from my room into the most crowded part of the house. I kept reading the book, just not ... alone.
So St. John Vianney and I go way back. He was the saint who introduced me to the practice of asceticism, the spirit of prayer, and the spirit of ministry. (Today's first reading, with the example of Miriam's and Aaron's pettiness, is a bit of the opposite example: when ministry starts to be about you, you need some renewal.)
Not a good idea.
About the time "Old Scratch" banged on Vianney's rectory door (with no footprints anywhere to be seen, of course), I bolted nervously from my room into the most crowded part of the house. I kept reading the book, just not ... alone.
So St. John Vianney and I go way back. He was the saint who introduced me to the practice of asceticism, the spirit of prayer, and the spirit of ministry. (Today's first reading, with the example of Miriam's and Aaron's pettiness, is a bit of the opposite example: when ministry starts to be about you, you need some renewal.)
Monday, August 03, 2009
Watchamacallit
It's always special when the Sunday Mass readings are mirrored during the week. That happens only occasionally because there is a three year cycle of Sunday readings, but only a two year cycle of first readings for weekdays. This week, though, we hit the liturgical jackpot. Yesterday's first reading about the manna and quail in the desert skipped right over the part we read today: the complaints of the Israelites about the boring food and lack of meat. So in a way, today we got the backstory of yesterday's reading. And yesterday's Sunday Gospel was from the magnificent "Bread of Life" discourse which John positions precisely after the story of...today's event of the multiplication of loaves and fishes. So the liturgy today invites us to review yesterday's readings, and maybe fill in the blanks a little in terms of how much we actually "got" of the message. Since this is the mystery of the Eucharist we are ultimately talking about, prefigured in the manna and the multiplied bread and fish, we'll never run out of reasons to go back again and again, trying to "get" it in a new way, in a new "place" in our hearts.
On a more superficial (but fun) note, I think it is interesting that the word "manna" is really Hebrew for "Whatchamacallit." They didn't know what the stuff was that they found on the desert floor every morning, but Moses told them it was edible, so they worked it with a mortar and pestle and made something identifiable with it. Sometimes that's what you have to do with the things that come your way in life. They don't match your expectations, your desires, or even your prayers, and yet somehow, they become just the nourishment you need.
Even if you can never quite give it a name.
On a more superficial (but fun) note, I think it is interesting that the word "manna" is really Hebrew for "Whatchamacallit." They didn't know what the stuff was that they found on the desert floor every morning, but Moses told them it was edible, so they worked it with a mortar and pestle and made something identifiable with it. Sometimes that's what you have to do with the things that come your way in life. They don't match your expectations, your desires, or even your prayers, and yet somehow, they become just the nourishment you need.
Even if you can never quite give it a name.
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Favorite Song
We did my favorite song of the whole batch today. It's an Easter song that we've been singing since I entered the convent. In English, the lyrics are quaint: "Meet it is to make merrie; Jesus will our solace be. Alleluia." But the Latin lyrics we have are about the harrowing of hell! And, where Latin usually has a kind of sonorous quality to it, this one has short lines with a strong rhyme and rhythm that give it a lot of punch. The effect is fantastic (at least to my ears!):
I would offer a rough translation, but anyway, it's the harrowing of hell. You get the idea.
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