Art, Music, and the Church

After watching the (recorded) Royal Wedding, I started thinking about the complicated issue of liturgical music in the context of the Catholic Mass.  While it's ridiculous to think that we can achieve anything so grand in our local churches, I think it offers some food for thought.  While this can be a delicate (and time-consuming) topic, I'm going to restrict my soapbox time to just to a few paragraphs today.


The first thing I like to do when addressing this issue is to preface my comments with a thank you to all of those who give of their time and talents to serve in the capacity of choir members or music directors.  While I may have complaints with regards to where our music is today, it gives me no less appreciation for the selfless work of these people who try each and every Sunday to give us beautiful music sounding within our churches.  After all, many of them are distressed over the same issue, but can't speak out.  With the exception of cathedrals and abbeys, the musical problem, as I see it, appears to be fairly well entrenched everywhere I have visited.


I have made previous reference in this blog to my article entitled "Reflections on a Hymn," but the problematic hymn Sing a New Church  from Oregon Catholic Press is a particularly good example of a bad hymn.  It's taken a rich and beautiful hymn, Come Thou Font of Every Blessing, and replaced its powerful and profound words with modern feel-good drivel.  No less damaging to our musical environment, however, are the simply folksy or poorly-written hymns that we sing so frequently.  In fact, my son's comment that all of the music we sing "sounds the same" has really resonated with me.  Originating with the 1960s, it seems so much of the fare offered by Oregon Catholic Press is sadly deficient in both musical quality (unless its stolen from past hymns of old) or message.  Singing them becomes a chore--not a joy.


My next children's book will be touching on the issue of music and why it's important to sing at church.  ...Yet, there are times when I stop and think about what I am singing, and I just can't continue.  The words serve only to draw attention to our culture's lack of depth when it comes to matters of faith and reason.  The visual arts shouldn't be entirely overlooked in this discussion either; they have also suffered from the same "dumbing-down" occurring within our liturgical music.  This undermining of music and art is important on so many levels.  


Fundamentally, the pinnacle of human nature is found within worship and reflected also in our creation of things of beauty and meaning.  Not only are we failing to truly honor God with our words at those times, but we are failing to instill our children with a foundation and love of real music.  Our children, you see, can often glimpse more of the truth than we are aware of ourselves.  The young learn that sung words fail to mean what we say they do, and that art means anything we say it does; beauty in art and music becomes entirely subjective, which is only step or two removed from moral relativism.


In short, we can't expect a service approaching like we watched on television, and sometimes very small parishes don't have the financial resources or talent to be able to offer what they would prefer.  Still, we can certainly aim to do better in our churches.  When we do, we will also be offering a profound witness for Christ to our world.


(For more on the topic of liturigcal music, please read Anthony Esolen's articles found in This Rock.) 

Is Anything Sacred? ("Glimmers of Heaven")

The first time I ventured into a Catholic Church as an elementary student, I was startled by the statues and art in the sanctuary.  It all looked very foreign to this Baptist Sunday School boy, and I was confused why the Catholic church looked so different from my own church.  I was accustomed to relatively bare sanctuaries with little more than some stained glass and a cross at the front.  I likely remembered what we were taught so many times in Sunday school, something I had never paused to question.   Once the congregation had filed out of its pews and the doors were locked behind them, the church was no different, we were told, than any other place.  After all, wasn’t church about the people and not the building?  It is true that our bodies are the Lord’s temple, and He is with us throughout the day.  It’s necessary, though, to take this discussion a step further.  I soon realized that the Catholic understanding of church was much more than simply a warm place to gather on Sundays.

So, what is the purpose and meaning of the sacred and holy—especially in terms of places of worship—and how do Catholics and Protestants differ in their understanding of sacred places?  If we try to step back and approach the nature of the sacred from a new and unbiased perspective, perhaps a good starting point is the opposite of the sacred.  If there are sacred places, then it stands to reason that there are (or were) cursed places or things.  One of the best biblical examples is certainly the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. As related in the 19^th chapter of Genesis, “Then the Lord rained on Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven; and he overthrew those cities, and all the valley, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground.”  (Genesis 19:24)  A similar warning to the unrighteous is found in Psalm 140, “Those who surround me lift up their head, let the mischief of their lips overwhelm them!  Let burning coals fall upon them!  Let them be cast into pits, no more to rise!  Let not the slanderer be established in the land; let evil hunt down the violent man speedily.”  (Psalm 140: 9-11)  King David is calling down the judgement of the Living God on the enemies of Israel.  Of course, the New Testament also contains examples of people and places cursed by God.  In Matthew 10, Christ makes a reference to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah when He instructs the twelve to “shake off the dust from your feet” should they be unwelcome within a town.  Christ’s words in this passage regarding those who do welcome the disciples are important to note, as well.  “As you enter the house, salute it.  And if the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it; but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you.”  (Matthew 10:13)

According to the Catholic exorcist and writer Francis MacNutt, places as well as things can be made spiritually unclean, corrupted by immoral use.  In his book Deliverance from Evil Spirits, he notes that ordinary items used in occult rituals seem to continue to hold a dark spiritual influence until the item is removed and destroyed.  Dabbling with an Ouija Board may seem harmless enough to some, but Francis MacNutt points out that this kind of experimentation may serve as a doorway into more dangerous occult practices.  He also draws attention to the powerful effect of the Eucharist or sacramentals such as holy water in the arena of exorcisms, which reveals the power of God transmitted through places, people, and blessed things.  It is interesting that most Evangelical Protestants would likely agree that things and places can be cursed, made spiritually unclean, but they are uncomfortable at the prospect of calling a place holy or sacred.  

Having first examined what sacred is not, how do we edge closer to a fuller understanding of what it is?  A good place to begin might be the Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, which defines the word sacred as “set apart or dedicated to some religious purpose, and hence entitled to veneration or religious respect; made holy by association with a god or some other object of worship; consecrated, hallowed.” This doesn’t mean that only cathedrals or churches are sacred places.  As Saint Bernadette taught us with her life of simple devotion, it can just as easily be a “niche in the rock”.  It is a place which has come into association or intimate contact with the heavenly realm.  That’s why going to church is almost like seeing a glimpse of heaven—especially for Catholics who have the fullness of Christ found in the holy Eucharist.  That’s not to say that Christ is not with us in our daily lives and struggles outside of the church, but “where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am in the midst of them.”  (Matthew 18:20)  Is it correct to say that Christ is more profoundly present in our church than elsewhere in our lives?  I think that Scripture leads us to no other conclusion.  

What does the Old Testament teach about sacred places?  When God spoke to Moses out of the burning bush, the prophet was told “Do not come near; put off your shoes from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”  (Exodus 3:5)  Similar instructions are also given to Joshua by the angelic “commander of the Lord’s army” at the battle of Jericho (Joshua 5:15), and Jacob’s response of fear and awe at the ladder in Genesis 28:17 again points to the stirring presence of God within a particular place and time.  When Moses receives instruction on the building of the Ark of the Covenant and the Holy of Holies, it’s important to pause and take to heart the meticulous instructions that continue from the 25^th chapter of Exodus through the 30^th chapter.  As we read in Exodus 25:10-12, “They shall make an ark of acacia wood; two cubits and a half shall be its length, a cubit and a half its breadth, and a cubit and a half its height.  And you shall overlay it with pure gold, within and without shall you overlay it, and you shall make upon it a molding of gold round about.”  With this, sacred art is born.  The length of these highly detailed instructions is several times longer than the space devoted to the creation of the world. As a religious artist I know has suggested, if length of text implies importance, then this gives us a substantial insight into the nature and character of God.  He created us to love and honor Him—not just through our hearts, but though all our senses.  Beauty draws our hearts towards God in reverence and reminds us of his limitless power and grace.  

Many Christians are inclined to entirely disregard the Old Testament’s teachings on the honor and reverence which should be paid to God.  While it is true that Christ now stands as the mediator between God and man, having saved us from the Law, the revelation of God’s character and glory found within the pages of the Old Testament has not suddenly become irrelevant.  As God declared to Moses in Exodus 3:14, “I AM WHO I AM.”  The nature of God did not change with the risen Savior, but the door to Him was unlocked.  Whether Catholic or Protestant, our Lord should never be approached in our places of worship in an irreverent or casual manner; He is not our “buddy”, but the Creator of the universe.  (The reverence and formality proper to church, however, should never discourage us from our private devotions.  If we can put our hearts to “praying without ceasing”, we infuse all that we do with a deeper meaning and spiritual significance.)  The holiness and reverence expressed in religious art and sacred music reminds us that Christ did not come “to abolish the Law and the prophets…but to fulfill them.”  (Matthew 5:17).  

New Testament passages referring to sacred places abound.  In Matthew 21, Jesus clears the Temple of the corrupt moneychangers.  “He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’; but you make it a den of robbers.”  From this passage alone, we glimpse a vision of what Christ desires from us in our places of worship: reverent and sacred places drawing hearts and prayers up to God like fragrant incense.  The transfiguration is another instance of a place made holy by the stirring presence of God, as told in the 17^th chapter of Matthew and the 9^th chapter of Mark.  God’s presence was so strong that the three disciples accompanying Him wanted to linger on the mountaintop and even suggested that they construct a place of worship to honor the spot where God made Himself so clearly known to them.

Many other New Testament references teach us of the solemnity of church.  1 Corinthians 11:27-29 reads as follows.  

“Therefore whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord unworthily will have to answer for the body and blood of the Lord.  A person should examine himself, and so eat the bread and drink the cup.  For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body, eats and drinks judgement on himself.”

Not only does this give us a deep insight into the true nature of the Eucharist as described in the sixth chapter of John, but it also conveys an underlying seriousness concerning our worship.  How we relate to and worship God is important.  If some of our separated brothers fall into the enemy’s trap of concluding that all rituals, liturgy, and Catholic tradition are frivolous or extra biblical, they must clearly turn a blind eye to warnings such as Saint Paul’s above.

In Roy Schoeman’s brilliant book Salvation is from the Jews, he points out that the very location of Calvary is atop the same mountain where Abraham was prepared to sacrifice Isaac.  Schoeman makes the profound point that God the Father offered His Son on the same hill where the father of the Jewish people was prepared to sacrifice his own beloved son two thousand years earlier.  Genesis 22:2, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love…” is a foreshadowing, then, to John 3:16. The faithfulness of Abraham is glimpsed anew in the perfected faithfulness of God to a world lost in sin, as one covenant stands fulfilled by the New Covenant on the same lonely hilltop.  While the temple veil lies torn in two, the Temple (Christ) will rise again.

Nearly a millennium before the rumblings of the Reformation, Pope Gregory the Great addressed the heresy of Iconoclasm.  This particular false teaching held that all sacred images were idols and sought their removal from churches.  There are indications that the movement itself may have been sparked by a Moslem influence, since that tradition shares a fierce opposition to sacred images.   In a letter to an iconoclastic bishop named Serenus of Marseilles, Pope Gregory the Great wrote the following.

"Not without reason has antiquity allowed the stories of saints to be painted in holy places. And we indeed entirely praise thee for not allowing them to be adored, but we blame thee for breaking them. For it is one thing to adore an image, it is quite another thing to learn from the appearance of a picture what we must adore. What books are to those who can read, that is a picture to the ignorant who look at it; in a picture even the unlearned may see what example they should follow; in a picture they who know no letters may yet read. Hence, for barbarians especially a picture takes the place of a book." (Ep. ix,105, in P. L., LXXVII, 1027)

There is so much substance for meditation and further reflection in Pope Gregory the Great’s words.  Even the Catholic understanding of adoration is explained in a startlingly clear light.  In addition to setting the tone of worship and reverence, religious art was like books for the illiterate.  Another excellent reading concerning our grasp of the sacred and the holy is from the twenty-fifth session of the Council of Trent (Dec. 1543). 

“[The holy Synod commands] that images of Christ, the Virgin Mother of God, and other saints are to be held and kept especially in churches, that due honor and reverence (debitum honorem et venerationem) are to be paid to them, not that any divinity or power 

is thought to be in them for the sake of which they may be worshipped, or that anything can be asked of them, or that any trust may be put in images, as was done by the heathen who put their trust in their idols, but because the honor shown to them is referred to 

the prototypes which they represent... [W]e adore Christ and honor the saints whose likeness they bear...” (Denzinger, no. 986).

Some might persuasively argue that the heresy of Iconoclasm has returned and lives well in some Protestant denominations, where religious art is neither accepted nor understood.  The sadness is that many centuries of sacred art and music are summarily dismissed.  There is often little recognition of their religious, cultural, or historical value at all.

Catholics and Protestants certainly agree on one thing, and that is the sacred way with which we treat the Bible, the inspired word of God.  As Saint Jerome put it, “…ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.”  The Gospel of John begins with, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”  If we treat the Bible with such honor and reverence, why is it difficult to see the real and substantial presence of our living savior beside us in our churches?  After all, it is not the Bible we worship, but the Living Word (Christ) who gave it to us through the Church.  It is that holy presence in our houses of worship which confers a special grace upon the place—a grace not removed when the congregation leaves.  Churches are unlike ordinary places.  In church, we join with fellow believers of the past, present, and future in praising God.  The mystical body of Christ is no where else so complete as in worship.  As a personal aside, before our family even considered joining the Catholic Church, we used to greatly enjoy visiting the Grotto (The National Sanctuary of our Sorrowful Mother) in Portland, Oregon.  We craved the sacred like a thirsty person craves a drink of cold water.  It made us feel more connected with God and the other faithful across the ages.  In short, it offered us an inkling of what it feels like to be members of the Catholic Church.  It gave us hope.

An alternative way to approach the question of the sacred and the holy is to consider the special way we treat our own homes.  As the saying goes, our home is our castle.  Who can’t sympathize with Odysseus of Homer’s The Odyssey, when he returns home to Ithaca to find his home invaded by unruly and cruel suitors?  

“You never thought to see me back from Troy.  So you ate me out of house and home; you raped my maids; you wooed my wife on the sly though I was alive—with no more fear of the gods in heaven than of the human vengeance that might come.  I tell you, one and all, that your doom is sealed.”  (The Odyssey, chapter 22)

None of us would have our homes treated with disrespect.  Like the cultures before us, we honor and respect the home and family as sacred.  While the people are certainly more important than the place, our homes themselves are not trivial.  They are the places where we laugh, cry, raise our children, and care for our sick or dying.  If our homes are so important to us, then why is it difficult for some of our separated brothers to accept our places of worship as even more sacred and holy?  

    
After all, churches are not entertainment or recreation centers, but places where we worship the ever-living God, the Creator of the universe.  The desire for a worship style more like entertainment is akin to placing God into a box of our own construction and preferences.  Our culture’s inability to recognize meaning unless in the form of a sound bite, loud music, or a simple-minded chorus points to diminishing attention spans much more than it suggests a changing God.  When Jesus stayed behind at the temple as a child, and his parents confronted him, His response is worth further meditation.  “How is it that you sought me?  Did you not know that I must be in my Father'’ house?"” (Matthew 2:49)  If Christ is our brother, I suggest that we see His Father’s house for what it should be.  Whether religious art or sacred objects, these help to reflect the “visible community of faith”.  As Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds us in his insightful essay of that same name, the faithful must be the salt of the earth, and the city on the hill.  The light, reflected from our Savior, must beckon to the lost through our living testimonies, and we must not forget that churches should be, above all else, sacred and holy ground where God is loved and worshipped.

One argument put forth by many Protestants is that sacred places are meaningless because of the omnipresent nature of God.  One friend put the question to me like this.  He said look at your wife and family.  Are they sacred?  Look at the sky and the trees.  Isn’t nature also sacred?  One problem with this reasoning, of course, is that if everything is sacred, then nothing is.  Sacred by its nature means set apart and different.  Another concern with this line of thinking is that it seems to draw dangerously near to pantheism.  Saint Francis was one who recognized God's beauty as reflected in his fellow man and nature. In a sense, he revered everything, but he held the greatest part of his reverence and devotion for the particularly profound and real dimension of the sacred found in the Church.  He penned the following poem--reminding us of the layers of sacred from daily life through the holy Sacraments.

"What wonderful majesty!
What stupendous condescension!
O sublime humility!
That the Lord of the whole universe,
God and the Son of God,
should humble Himself like this
under the form of a little bread,
for our salvation" 

"...In this world I cannot see
the Most High Son of God
with my own eyes, except
for His Most Holy Body and Blood." 

As Jeremy Sheehy reminds us in his insightful essay “Sacred Space and the Incarnation,” which is one of eight powerful essays collected in Sacred Space, House of God, Gate of Heaven, our understanding of the sacred also hinges upon the nature and mystery of the Incarnation itself. God relied upon physical material, that is flesh and bone, to convey Truth and forgiveness to a lost world. He could have chosen any other means, but His choice was to send His Son as a man. As Saint Francis made abundantly clear, Creation points to God. We understand that the “fingerprint” of God is found within nature. Now, imagine for a moment that we could be present in Jesus’ own time. Understanding that God is everywhere, are we closer to Christ in front of a tree, or standing beside our Savior Himself?  Clearly, we are closer to Him and His presence, if we are standing beside him, or looking in His holy face. This is yet another reason why churches are not ordinary places. In church, we exit the timeline for a moment as we join with fellow believers of the past, present, and future in praising God. The mystical body of Christ is no where else so complete as in worship. As a personal aside, before our family even considered joining the Catholic Church, we used to greatly enjoy visiting the Grotto (The National Sanctuary of our Sorrowful Mother) in Portland, Oregon. We craved the sacred like a thirsty person craves a drink of cold water. It made us feel more connected with God and the other faithful across the ages. In short, it offered us an inkling of what it feels like to be members of the Catholic Church. It gave us hope.

Through the lens of the sacred, we may see glimmers of heaven’s light.  We can also understand some of the differences between Catholics and Protestants more clearly, if we examine them through our unique understandings of the sacred.  Protestants, for instance, usually see churches as no different from other places—after the congregation has gone on its way.  Catholics, on the other hand, recognize church as a place where we come together to worship and share in the sacrament of the Eucharist.  Since the Eucharist is understood as the body, blood, soul, and divinity of our Savior, we believe that our churches are so much more than ordinary places.  They are blest and hallowed because of the profound and substantial presence of God in the place, as well as in the Eucharist.  The devotion and passion for Christ found among many Evangelical Protestants is praiseworthy.  Since the church is understood the way it is, it also may lead Protestants to have a greater awareness for the presence of Christ within their fellow man and a strong view of the body as God’s temple.  This, however, comes at the expense of a true sense and understanding of the sacred in worship, which means that God is not properly understood for who He is.  This substantial difference in understanding is reflected in our respective theology, architecture, and art.  While the visiting student or newcomer may be caught off guard by the artwork and sense of reverence found in a Catholic Church, this is the way we treat our Father’s house.  After all, the Catholic understanding of church was and is more than simply a warm place to gather on Sundays.  It’s all about Him—not us.

Breaking News / Reclaiming the Family Dinner Hour

My father recently penned an article in which he touched upon his fond memories of the family eating together around the dinner table, and it encouraged some serious thinking on my part.  I'm the first to admit that dinner time for us is not always what it should be.  While we always eat together, we aren't quite so careful about eating at the table (with the television off).  As a borderline "news junkie," I admit it....  I enjoy eating dinner in front of the television.  There, it's out.  


I suppose I'm a recovering news junkie now, but that's another story.  The bottom line is that the family dinner table is a wonderful thing that I think is too often overlooked.  Let's face it, with the Middle East tensions and economic worries, there's a lot of sense in being informed on current events.  What I'm (slowly) learning, though, is that there are other options for getting the news than devoting your dinnertime to that activity--and the same goes for any other type of program, too.  What I have begun doing, for instance, is recording the news shows (or Dr. Who episodes) to watch them later.


It's not exactly rocket science, but it definitely is much easier to carry on a meaningful conversation at a quiet table with no distracting television or radio in the background.  It also helps children develop their table manners and conversational skills (sometimes some debate skills thrown in for good measure).  It's not an exaggeration, but simple moments like these really help parents learn who their children are growing up to become.  It is also a wonderful time to talk about faith and belief in God and trust in His Church--why we believe what we do.  


While life is easier on the surface now with luxuries we take for granted such as electricity and running water, sometimes I wonder what we've surrendered in exchange for these comforts.  Remember literature of the past century or two and recollect the fondness and warmth frequently reflected in the authors' vivid descriptions of family dinners--Charles Dickens, Daniel Defoe, and perhaps Robert Louis Stevenson come to mind.  (An interesting example of this kind of writing comes from early issues of Good Housekeeping.)  It's possible these described sentiments of old will begin to fade and vanish, becoming foreign concepts for future generations, if we let the opportunities to be true stewards of family time today slip by.  After all, for parents there is no option for "re-do."

Christ, the Lord is Risen Today!

While it may be a little early for this post, I likely won't have time again this weekend.  That being the case, Happy Easter to you and yours!

Christ, the Lord, is risen today, Alleluia!
Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply, Alleluia!

Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Lo! the Sun’s eclipse is over, Alleluia!
Lo! He sets in blood no more, Alleluia!

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal, Alleluia!
Christ hath burst the gates of hell, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids His rise, Alleluia!
Christ hath opened paradise, Alleluia!

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Once He died our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where thy victory, O grave? Alleluia!

Soar we now where Christ hath led, Alleluia!
Following our exalted Head, Alleluia!
Made like Him, like Him we rise, Alleluia!
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia!

Hail, the Lord of earth and Heaven, Alleluia!
Praise to Thee by both be given, Alleluia!
Thee we greet triumphant now, Alleluia!
Hail, the resurrection, thou, Alleluia!

King of glory, Soul of bliss, Alleluia!
Everlasting life is this, Alleluia!
Thee to know, Thy power to prove, Alleluia!
Thus to sing and thus to love, Alleluia!

Hymns of praise then let us sing, Alleluia!
Unto Christ, our heavenly King, Alleluia!
Who endured the cross and grave, Alleluia!
Sinners to redeem and save. Alleluia!

But the pains that He endured, Alleluia!
Our salvation have procured, Alleluia!
Now above the sky He’s King, Alleluia!
Where the angels ever sing. Alleluia!

Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!
Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!
Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia!
Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!

Charles Wesley




Update:


Click Here to hear this hymn (from Queen of Peace Catholic Church on April 8, 2012).

The Connection Illusion

I'm not the first to reveal the irony of social media (and electronics in general) in regards to family life.  That is, something created supposedly to help bring us all together seems to do a much better job keeping us apart, isolated in our own little spaces with our eyes fixated on the flickering screen.  While we may know much more about our long lost friend Fred from Weiser, Idaho, the tradeoff often seems to be our immediate family.  I know I'm generalizing here, and it's true that some families are able to do an admirable job at monitoring and limiting electronic usage, but I don't think we're the only parents who have a challenge at times reigning in the electronic games or computer time.  


Looking back on my childhood, it's easy to romanticize the outside time component a little too much.  I was not exactly an outside kind of kid.  While I didn't spend every spare moment outside, I never resisted it either.  Something seems to have changed in the subsequent decades.  It's not just about the lack of real socialization or communication during online time either, it's a whole shift in communications.  Attention spans are shorter and vocabularies are smaller,too.  


I remember once finding an old newspaper stuffed inside a wall of my boyhood home.  It was less than a century old, but the vocabulary was grades above what passes for a newspaper today.  When vocabulary falls, our ability to express and articulate ourselves falters, as well.  In fact, that opens the subject of writing.  Look at instant messaging's effect on writing--it's downright depressing.  I'm not saying that we all should strive for the vocabulary of Charles Dickens, but, on second thought, let's all strive for the vocabulary of Charles Dickens.  


In addition to loss of our substantive connections, wasted time, and lost vocabulary, there are other elements, too.  Take e-mail, for instance.  Looking back to how hard I worked at staying in contact with friends after leaving my hometown for Seattle, one would think that e-mail would be a huge help in staying and keeping connected.  Not really.  Instead, I find people I know, at least, don't seem to write personal letters anymore.  E-mails are great, but it's even better to get an old fashioned hand-written letter, don't you think?  Besides the loss of these letters, there's also the frequent inability to reach people via e-mail.  Often times, the reason boils down to what you might call a "connections overload."  Some people seem so overwhelmed that they'd like to go crawl under the nearest rock--then they find out there's WiFi there, too.


I am not going so far as to suggest a Harrison Ford Mosquito Coast departure from modern life.  In fact, I'll be honest...  As a guy who considers writing his second job, I have to stay somewhat immersed in this stuff.  What I would suggest, though, is that everyone remember that technology is like like a good hammer, a tool.  We can't un-ring the technology bell and return to the 1970s.  (Yikes!  That's a scary thought.)  We can and should try to keep things in perspective.  Our iPhone can't be taken to eternity when we fall asleep for the last time someday.  In the end, when we look back on these years from some distant vantage point, time with family will be much more important than our high score on "Angry Birds."  Now...go get off the computer and read to your kids...I have to go tweet my cat's latest updates.
  

Etiquette at Mass

I'm no expert when it comes to etiquette at Mass, but I, at least, can recognize a problem when I see it.  Here is my top fifteen list of things we really shouldn't be doing (or sometimes should be doing) while we're attending Mass.  


1.  Genuflect towards the tabernacle before taking your seat.  This is a display of reverence, which acknowledges the real and mysterious presence of our Lord Jesus Christ.  


2.  Avoid talking loudly in the sanctuary.  Unless we've actually been asked to speak to the congregation, let's keep our voices down to a reverent level.  For those who are trying to worship, it's a distraction within Holy Mass.  There's a social dimension to Mass, but that shouldn't be our main reason for being there.


3.  Dress appropriately.  Mini-skirts, for instance, don't belong in the sanctuary.  They say "Look at me!" when we should be saying "Look at Him!"


4.  Unless unusual circumstances exist, come to Mass in clean clothes.  


5.  Ringing cell phones and pagers distract, too.  Turn them off.


6.  Don't eat in the sanctuary. This should go without saying, but, besides being poor form, it breaks the fast.


7.  An attitude of reverence and respect is necessary when coming forward in the Communion line.  Don't expect the priest or Extraordinary Minister of the Holy Communion to offer the Eucharist otherwise.  (When I was serving once as an EMHC, I had a teenager casually extend his hands which were entirely withdrawn inside the sleeves of his sweatshirt--and he didn't even make initial eye contact.)  


8.  Don't take the Eucharist in your hands to dip yourself into the chalice.  This is called intinction, and, according to the General Instruction of the Roman Missal, the act of intinction is reserved for the priest, then placed on the tongue of the communicant.  (287)


9.   Keep your kiddos under control.  (A good book on this topic would be this one from Michael Rayes.)  We appreciate you bringing your kids to Mass, and we know it can be hard sometimes.  Most of us are very patient, but when the priest can no longer be heard, it's a good indicator that it's time to take your child out for a bit.


10.  It's inappropriate to leave Mass before the priest.  In fact, why don't you stay and sing the dismissal hymn?  Are we keeping you from something...?


11.  Don't be in such a rush to leave that you force others to exit the pew earlier than they would prefer.  That's pure and simple selfishness.  (Had an older lady do this to us once.  This was the same lady who put the kneeler down on my cast when my leg was broken.)


12.  As far as the music director is concerned, please don't ask the congregation to sing a hymn which fails to convey the message it purports to offer.  Understand that words mean things, and that many congregants will stop singing if the words fail to measure up.  


13.  As a worship leader or priest, try to avoid jargon of the day.  Environmental stewardship is one thing.  Teaching on recycling methods at length is probably a step or two too far.  While we should be engaging the present culture, our eyes at Mass should be turned more to the eternal than the temporal.


14.  As you pull into or out of the parking lot, remember where you are / have been.  Let your life be a reflection of Christ outside the walls of the church, too. This means, for instance, helping a person you see collapse in the parking lot or avoiding laying on your horn as you grab the desired parking spot.  


15.  For professing Catholics, confession is not a "recommended" activity, but a required Sacrament.  Remember also the warning of 1 Corinthians 11:27 concerning the taking of the Sacrament in an unworthy manner.  As Bishop Fulton Sheen warned in one of his latter talks, this is a serious offense and places both your spiritual and physical health in real danger.  Speak to your priest for more information.

Palm Sunday Reflections

It is my sincere hope that the season of Lent has brought you time for meaningful reflection and prayer as you look ahead to the joy of Easter.  I'd like to begin by sharing this Sunday's reading from the Gospel of Matthew.

Matthew 21:1-11

When Jesus and the disciples drew near Jerusalem
and came to Bethphage on the Mount of Olives,
Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them,
“Go into the village opposite you,
and immediately you will find an ass tethered,
and a colt with her.
Untie them and bring them here to me.
And if anyone should say anything to you, reply,
‘The master has need of them.’
Then he will send them at once.”
This happened so that what had been spoken through the prophet
might be fulfilled:Say to daughter Zion,
“Behold, your king comes to you,
meek and riding on an ass,
and on a colt, the foal of a beast of burden.”
The disciples went and did as Jesus had ordered them.
They brought the ass and the colt and laid their cloaks over them,
and he sat upon them.
The very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road,
while others cut branches from the trees
and strewed them on the road.
The crowds preceding him and those following
kept crying out and saying:
“Hosanna to the Son of David;
blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord;
hosanna in the highest.”
And when he entered Jerusalem
the whole city was shaken and asked, “Who is this?”
And the crowds replied,
“This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Amidst all the hectic activity and planning for next week's Easter celebration, it's essential to pause and reflect upon what Easter brings each of us.  The most Holy Sacrifice of Christ on the Cross gives us the awe-inspiring gift of eternal salvation, if we stand with Christ.  This grace is not something we've earned, but, if the grace of Christ exists within us, our outward behavior and actions will (imperfectly) reflect His heavenly light. 

Lent is a particularly wonderful time to strengthen our prayer life.  Even if it's just a few minutes on some days, I encourage you to find that niche of time every day that you can devote to prayer and reading of His Word.  When prayer life is improved (along with regular Mass attendance and partaking of the Sacraments), your spiritual strength through Him who is within you will be much better equipped to successfully engage those daily struggles and temptations.  Without a strong prayer life, you're denying yourself a relationship with your Creator.  And as Saint Jerome said concerning reading of the Bible, "Ignorance of the Bible is ignorance of Christ."

It's a silly analogy in many ways...but take a look at picture accompanying this blog post.  I photographed this inquisitive red fox last month on the west side of San Juan Island in Washington State.  I had seen him in the distance and stopped the van on a narrow island road to catch the photos.  To my surprise, he just began ambling towards us as soon as I stopped.  (I suspect drivers sometimes give handouts of tasty morsels.)  What I find interesting is the degree to which the fox's paws are covered with mud and dirt.  It struck me that sin clings to us in a similar way if we fail to seek forgiveness. (Pilgrim's Progress use of the heavy back on Christian's back is a much better illustration.)  


Furthermore, if we fail to make the effort to improve ourselves, to strengthen our hearts against evil, then we are like a hunted animal returning time and again to the place where he knows there is peril lying in wait.  Trust in God!  

A Few More Words on Sanger--and Life

Originally, I had planned to devote several blog posts to the abortion question, but I think I've covered most of what I set out to address.  In closing, I would urge readers on the fence about Planned Parenthood's mission today to read-up on her founder.  Besides reading excerpts of her works, her quotes quickly convey many of her personal "qualities."  There's this favorite, for example, which was taken from Women and the New Race.  "The most merciful thing that a large family does to one of its infant members is to kill it." 

Repeatedly, she refers to her desire for "thoroughbreds" when it comes to the generations to follow.  In other words, she is espousing eugenics.  This is the same belief which led to the rise to power of a certain German by the name of Hitler.  A good article on the September 1957 Mike Wallace interview of Sanger may be found at LifeSite News.  Also, I found the interview itself available courtesy the Harry Ransom Center, the University of Texas at Austin.  It's fascinating to watch this interview, to have the opportunity to not only analyze her words but also her mannerisms.

I'd like to move towards conclusion with a small quote a bit from the Fact Sheet for the Unborn Infant Pain Relief Act.  The information contained within the quote comes from the research of Dr. Paul Ranalli, neurologist, University of Toronto.

FACT:  Unborn children at 20 weeks 

gestation probably feel pain more      

intensely than adults. This is a 

“uniquely vulnerable time, since the 

pain system is fully established, yet the 

higher level pain-modifying system has 

barely begun to develop.”

I would also encourage readers to take a look at what the Catechism of the Catholic Church has to say on the issue of abortion.  The eloquent words carry a clarity of thought and authority worthy of much deep thought and contemplation.  In short, I urge readers not to sit back and avoid taking a stand for the unborn. Some may say that the current state of affairs is as good as we're going to get. While that may sadly be true, this doesn't excuse the faithful from trying to do what they can for the most vulnerable persons among us.