CNA Columns: The Way of Beauty

The Catholic Church advances science: part five

Wed, 22 May 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

“The Church is opposed to science; look at the Galileo debacle.” Haven’t most of us heard this criticism of the Church? In fact, one of the best-kept secrets about modern science is the Church’s role in its development. As with the arts, the Church gladly supports scientific pursuits that defer to the moral order.

The Church and Cloning

On May 16 came the news from scientists in Oregon that they could clone human embryos in order to treat human diseases like Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s, diabetes, and spinal cord injuries. This therapeutic cloning creates life, uses it for therapeutic purposes, and then destroys it.

“Scientists,” writes Archbishop Samuel Aquila, “have discovered how to create perfect human copies, to be used for the sole purpose of growing tissue in the effort to combat disease; then these copies will be destroyed” (National Review Online).

This embryo is a human being, albeit in the very earliest stages of human life. Every person reading this essay was once an embryo that grew into a fetus, and then to an infant baby, and so on along the spectrum of human life. This discovery brings with it the possibility, and indeed the probability, to clone babies. It recalls the cloning of Dolly the sheep in 1996. Now we have the possibility of cloning human beings.

Dr. Daniel Sulmasy, a professor of medicine and bioethicist at the University of Chicago has observed: “This is a case in which one is deliberately setting out to create a human being for the sole purpose of destroying that human being. I am of the school that thinks that that’s morally wrong no matter how much good could come of it.” The timeless principle holds: The end does not justify the means.

Like Archbishop Aquila, Cardinal Sean O’Malley of Boston has stated the Church’s view that cloning is immoral, even if used for therapeutic purposes because it “treats human beings as products, manufactured to order, to suit other people’s wishes” (NY Times, May 16, 2013, A17). The event is fraught with controversy and will be argued on both sides of the argument.

One principle to be kept in mind is this: Whatever can be done is not always moral; whatever is legal is not necessarily moral. The1973 Roe vs Wade decision is one application of this principle.

Behind the process of any scientific thought and pursuit is the concern for the integrity of man and woman as created in the image and likeness of God and for their inviolable dignity from the embryonic stage to natural death.

Flashing back to earlier times when the Church was engaged with scientific pursuits . . .

The Church, Science in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries
In 1582, the Jesuit polymath Cristoforo Clavius (d 1610) headed the commission that put into effect the Gregorian calendar thus negating the Julian calendar? To synchronize the calendar with the solar year, Clavius calculated ninety-seven leap days every four hundred years. His contemporaries were astounded.

In the sixteenth century and against universally-accepted theory, Copernicus had theorized that the sun, rather than Earth, was at the center of the solar system. Galileo advanced this theory, and his work was praised by Clavius. On Galileo’s visit to Rome, Pius V honored him and his discoveries.

However, the theory jointly held by Copernicus and Galileo stood as hypotheses and not as yet objectively proved. Galileo insisted that the Copernican theory was literally true. Because Protestants had faulted the Church with insufficient attention given to the literal meaning of Scripture, which appeared to contradict the two astronomers, Galileo was asked not to publish the theory until it could be objectively proven. He refused but was eventually proved correct. The Church’s naming him a heretic can be explained but not defended. (Thomas Woods, How the Church Built Western Civilization, 70ff; New Catholic Encyclopedia 6: 250ff). In 1979, John Paul II conceded that the Church had erred in the Galileo incident, and in 1984, all the Vatican documents about the case were made public.

The Church and Modern Science

The name George Lemaître (d 1966) is not a household name as is those of Edwin Hubble and Albert Einstein. Yet, in 1927, this Belgian-born theoretical physicist and priest, applying Einstein’s theory of general relativity, proposed that the expanding universe originated with a primeval atom or, as he called it, “the exploding egg.” Sir Fred Hoyle coined the term, the Big Bang, a jocular and perhaps derisive way of speaking about the anthropic principle or “the primeval atom.” The name, “The Big Bang” eventually held sway. This theory was pertinent to the question of God’s creation of the universe, and some have regarded Lemaître’s discovery as the “creation event,” that is, the universe created itself. How could an effect cause itself to be? Every effect has its cause, immediate or remote.

Prior to Lemaître’s presentation, Einstein (d 1955) was skeptical of the findings but was eventually won over. Standing and applauding at a seminar about Lemaître’s discovery, he said: “This is the most beautiful and satisfactory explanation of creation to which I have ever listened” (“Space/Astronomy”).

One visual depiction of the origin of the universe takes the contemporary mind back to a thirteenth-century French Bible (Codex 2553), where a picture of God the Father is illustrated measuring the world with a compass at the time of Creation.

The distinguished Hungarian Benedictine monk and physicist, Stanley Jaki, (d 2009) taught on issues pertaining to the philosophy of science and theology. He believed that science and theology were compatible and mutually reinforced the quest to understand God. “The regular return of seasons, the unfailing course of stars, the music of the spheres, the movement of the force of nature according to fixed ordinances, are all the results of the One who alone can be trusted unconditionally,” he wrote (Woods, 76).

During his life, Jaki was lauded numerous times as a writer and educator.

The Jesuits and Science

No other religious order has dedicated itself more to studies in science than has the Society of Jesus. There are approximately seventy Jesuit from the seventeenth century to the present who have engaged in scientific research. This list includes such Jesuit-scientists as: Matteo Ricci, (d 1610) who brought scientific innovations to China and who is deeply revered among the Chinese intelligentsia, Francesco Grimaldi (d 1643) and his diffraction of light, Nicholas Zucchi (d 1670), the telescope maker, Giovanni Battista Zupi (d 1650), an astronomer who discovered that Mercury had orbital phases, Ignace Pardies (d 1673) and his influence on Sir Isaac Newton, Francis Line (d 1675 ) the clockmaker hunted down by the English monarchy, Angelo Sacchi (d 1878) the Father of Astrophysics, Roger Boscovich (d 1787) and his atomic theory, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (d 1955) who was involved in the discovery of the so-called Peking Man, and George Coyne astronomer who has researched polarimetrics and Seyfert galaxies. Last but not least is Guy Consolmagno, who believes that “religious needs science to keep it away from superstition and keep it close to reality, to protect it from creationism, which at the end of the day is a kind of paganism.”

The Church and Science

The Church continues to support scientific pursuits so long as they uphold the inviolable dignity of the human person made in the image and likeness of God as well as the family, the Domestic Church. There is no contradiction or no opposition between science and the doctrine of the faith about man and woman and their vocation.

The Bible is not a book of science. But in 1996, John Paul II addressed the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, reminding the conveners that “the Gospel truth can shed a higher light on the horizon of your research into the origins and unfolding of living matter. The Bible in fact bears an extraordinary message of life. It gives as a wise vision of life inasmuch as it describes the loftiest forms of existence.”

The American Catholic Church and Education: Part Four

Wed, 15 May 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

Catholic education begins with Christ the Teacher. As early as the third-century, he is portrayed in Alexandrian frescoes and wall paintings holding the book of Scripture. At least two parables point to the essence of good education. The Good Shepherd, in his undying love for every creature, leaves the ninety-nine sheep for the lost one. In the parable of the talents, the three servants are entrusted with talents to develop (Mt 25:14ff).

Our Lord tells the Twelve that the Holy Spirit, sent by the Father in his name, will teach them everything and remind them of all that he has said to them (Jn 14:18).

Catholic education is about caring for the individual and the obligation of each individual to realize his or her full potential in God. Grace does not destroy nature but elevates and perfects it. Catholic education emerges from the Judeo-Christian view of man and woman rather than from a philosophy of education.

Catholic Education in the United States

“Throughout history, there is likely no more compelling instance of Catholic commitment to education than the school system created by the U.S. Catholic community” (Encyclopedia of Catholicism, 267). To elaborate.

Despite the various declarations of freedom in early America, anti-Catholicism was prevalent among the colonists. Nevertheless, in the mid-seventeenth century, the Jesuits opened schools in Maryland, including a college, later named Georgetown, also opening schools in New York City and in Philadelphia. To counter anti-Catholicism, Archbishop John Hughes (1797-1804), spearheaded Catholic education in the Northeast with a separate school system was generously supported by Catholic parents and parishioners. Thus, an independent school system was established and other dioceses followed suit.

By the mid-eighteenth century, groups such as the Know-Nothing Society were founded to eradicate all things Catholic. Yet, between 1840-1900, at least sixty European religious orders of women and men came to teach in the United States. Elizabeth Ann Seton (d 1821), a widow, a convert, and now a canonized saint, founded the Sisters of Charity. In 1808, her sisters opened the first school in Baltimore.

Commitment of Teachers

There is no substitute for competent, goal-oriented educators who come to love their students. Archbishop Hughes recruited men and women religious who, in imitation of Christ the Teacher, would bring to the classroom this level of commitment. With few exceptions, these men and women received no salaries. Instead, the Local Ordinary paid them a stipend for contributed services.

Success Stories

Religious institutes of women have taught in every socio-economic situation. Showing God’s love to the needy, they have brought a pedagogy of respect for other cultures and faith-traditions. In predominantly depressed neighborhoods, the children are taught to believe that they are equal to others and can aspire to high achievements if they are willing to work at it. By word and example, their teachers respect and love them, prod and admonish them to realize their highest potential for themselves, their families, and for the common welfare.

In a recent interview at Duquesne Law School, Justice Clarence Thomas unequivocally stated that had it not been for the “nuns,” he would have succumbed to laziness instead of advancing to Holy Cross College and Yale Law School. ‘The “nuns” always stressed that Blacks were equal to Whites. They never gave us the feeling that we were inferior.’ Likewise, the late Tim Russert acknowledged a key influence in his academic and public life, his eighth-grade teacher, Sister Lucille. There are many public figures who attribute their success to religious sisters who cared enough to encourage them and follow-up on their welfare years later. Writers and journalists, graduates of Catholic schools, have frequently remarked: ‘We learned to write well because the sisters guided us. We diagrammed sentences. And we loved it. The sisters made ceratin that we spoke well with that eloquentia perfecta through daily recitations and oral topics.’ Others in important administrative posts have written about these selfless women “who honed our skills and most of all fostered the awareness that it was our responsibility to change the world for the better.” Writes one highly-placed laywoman, “I am often asked how I maintain my sense of purpose, my optimism, my drive and my tenacity, I am quick to attribute these precious gifts to the sisters, of course.”

Catholic Humanism

Catholic education is values-oriented with a deep reverence for learning. Scholarship and faith belong together, the intellect seeking ultimate Truth.

For Catholic humanism, God is found not just in the sacred but also in the secular where Christian values and virtue can be uncovered. Catholic education is theocentric and incarnational, centered within the Eucharist, humanistic and contemplative. It develops in its students a Catholic moral compass and a Catholic sensibility in order to understand how society and democracies function. Moreover, all creatures serve the divine plan. The religious and the profane are mutually inclusive because the world is a universe of grace and promise, “charged with the grandeur of God.”

The humanities are associated with depth, richness, character and moral development, and feelings. This is why the literary and refining arts are so important. They sensitize the feelings of our youth and influence their behavior, especially in deterring violence.

Special Needs Education

Consecrated men and women have traditionally answered the needs of the time. Whether it has been to the hearing impaired, to children and teenagers at-risk, Catholic educators have been shining examples in helping others find their purpose in life despite the odds.

In 1939, Spencer Tracy won an Academy Award for Best Actor in Boys Town. The biographical dramatic film was based on the now-famous apostolate of Father Edward J. Flanagan, who believed that there is no such a thing as a bad boy, spent his entire life proving his conviction. The priest took underprivileged, unwanted, and delinquent boys and molded them into responsible young men. At the Oscar Awards ceremony, Tracy spoke: “If you have seen [Father Flanagan] through me, then I thank you.” Here was a successful experiment that put love at the heart of the boys’ education.

Homeschooling

Today, thousands of parents educate their children at home. At the heart of their decision is the conviction that parents are the first educators of their children, and it is in the home that children best learn to know about God and to pray to God, to know how to deal with the world, with others, and with themselves.

The Catholic University, Seminaries, and Houses of Formation

Between the 11th - 13th centuries, education reached a new synthesis of faith and reason with the rediscovery of Aristotle and Scholastic theology. During this time, higher education was a series of questions resolved by logical argument, for example, the timeless questions, “Does God exist? What is God?” The Universities of Paris, Bologna, Padua, Oxford, and Cambridge ranked among the outstanding European universities.

In the Renaissance, the disciplines exalted men and women and their human endeavor. The Church was somewhat uneasy with this new emphasis and became even more so when, to seize control of education from the Roman Church, the Protestant Reform favored education that was put in the hands of the state. Following the Council of Trent, women’s religious orders joined with those of men in the Church’s apostolate of education.

The tradition of a Catholic university continues the great university tradition of a liberal arts education. Strictly speaking, a liberal arts education does not specialize. It frees one for virtue; all education is in the pursuit of wisdom. A liberal arts education makes one more fully a human person, for to be only a specialist is to be only half a person. Ideally, a business major, within the liberal arts framework, studies the business world but from a holistic view of the world so that the business world makes sense. It gives the individual a broad context within which a business major fits. The same holds true for other majors. A liberal arts education gives one a broad, full, and rich context to make the individual minimally conversant in all areas of learning.

A liberal arts education is based on right reason, that is, philosophy, which teaches the student how to think. Philosophy debates the most important issues before humankind, and the knowledge derived from it is related to ethical and religious values. Philosophy lays the groundwork for and supports theology. Today, apologetics may be needed more than ever in Catholic education in order to defend against the novel approaches to anti-Catholicism. Our students should be skilled in debate: to get the Catholic principles, internalize them, anticipate counter-argument, and then, where applicable, to defend the Church.

Finally, the most precious gift Catholic education can give to its students is “the love of learning and the desire for God.” (To be continued.)

Alma Redemptoris Mater

Wed, 08 May 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

Gustave Reese, the pre-eminent Medieval and Renaissance musicologist of his day (d 1977), was also famous for striking fear in his students if they came to class unprepared. A simple composition demanded historical and textual analysis with biographical information about its composer. An even closer probe was required into its musical setting and its variants in regional manuscripts. Reese’s students would master the art of interdisciplinary scholarship, or withdraw from his course.

There was one exception to Reese’s grueling pedagogy. All analysis came to a halt with the Marian chant, Alma Redemptoris Mater. Flinging off his glasses, he would unabashedly swoon, “This, my dear students, is a honey of a piece!”

The Loveliest Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valleys (Song of Songs 2:1)

May belongs to Mary and to the ideal of motherhood. As Mother’s Day approaches, it is appropriate to fix our gaze on the Theotokos, the woman who bore the Incarnate Word of God.

In Washington’s Basilica of the Immaculate Conception, one Lady Chapel after another represents various countries in their depictions of this loveliest of women holding her Child, each garbed in ethnic clothing. Pilgrim sites in her honor dot the globe. Whether in literature, architecture, iconography, painting, statuary, or in music, the sacred arts praising Mary flower in full bloom. Artists cannot sculpt enough, paint enough, write and sing enough of her. In fact, there are approximately 15,000 hymns directed or addressed to Mary, and many of these have been based on some 4,000 original Marian poems composed in Latin. More often than not, they are presented as hymns in honor of the Incarnation, as does the Alma Redemptoris Mater.

J.S. Bach highlights this fact in the Credo of his B Minor Mass. He uses a musical motif that hovers over the Latin text, “Et incarnatus est” symbolizing the descent of the Spirit on Mary. “Blessed among women,” Mary shines among the anawim about whom Jesus later speaks in the Sermon on the Mount. Mary is the first model of discipleship in the New Testament.

Mary and Islam

Not only revered in the universal Catholic Church, Mary is also greatly honored in the Islamic tradition which values the Virgin Birth of Jesus as one of God’s miracles. She is the only woman mentioned by name in the Quran. This woman, Miriam, is a bridge between Islam and Christianity, a fact that should encourage Marian and Islamic scholars to pursue in dialogue. It cannot come soon enough.

Mary and the anawim

The anawim of the Old Testament were the poor of every sort: the vulnerable, the marginalized, and socio-economically oppressed, those of lowly status without earthly power (Jerome Biblical Commentary, 14:11; 18:3, 10; 22:41, 48; 51:21; 59:10; 19:61). In fact, they depended totally on God. In times of suffering, they remained faithful and awaited the good things of the Lord to fill their emptiness (Lk 1:53). Is there any doubt that Mary was the first Mater Dolorosa?

In the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius of Loyola presents the tableau of the Incarnation for prayer. The Father, Son, and Spirit see and hear the world going down in ruin, down to the smallest detail, and they determine to bring about its redemption. Observing Mary’s life of faith, they single her out for a special role in the divine plan. But Mary is already betrothed to Joseph, and when God’s plan is put to her, she asks how it will happen. Despite this apparent obstacle, Mary’s free acceptance allows the Spirit to work in her. In proclaiming the Magnificat, she acknowledges that the Almighty has done great things for her in her lowliness in contrast to God’s dealings with the proud.

Alma Redemptoris Mater: The Hymn and the Encyclical

Alma Redemptoris Mater can be chanted or recited at any time of year in the Liturgy of the Hours, but especially at Compline (Night Prayer) during the Advent-Christmas season. Having originated in the eleventh century, it is mentioned several times in Chaucer’s “The Prioress’ Tale” in Canterbury Tales. The melody must have been popular at the time. The Latin and English text are given below:

Alma Redemptoris Mater, quae pervia coeli
Loving Mother of the Redeemer,

Porta manes, et stella maris, succurre cadenti,
Gate of heaven, star of the sea, assist your people

Surgere qui curat, populo: tu quae genuisti,
(Those) who have fallen yet strive to rise again.

Natura mirante, tuum sanctum Genitorem,
To the wonderment of nature, you bore your Creator,

Virgo prius ac posterius, Gabrielis ab ore,
You who received Gabriel’s joyful greeting, yet remained a virgin after as before.

Sumens illud ave, peccatorum miserere.
Have pity on us poor sinners.

In 1987, Pope John Paul II promulgated the encyclical Redemptoris Mater. The theme of Mary’s pilgrimage in faith and her divine motherhood run throughout the piece. She is the one woman who, always and everywhere, inspires total faith, individual and communal. Her story is ours as well. St. Anselm, Doctor of the Church and Archbishop of Canterbury (12th c), offers soaring prose about the Mother of the Word Incarnate in relation and juxtaposition to God the Father:

Through Mary, God made himself a Son,
not different but the same, by nature Son of God and Son of Mary.
The whole universe was created by God, and God was born of Mary.
God created all things, and Mary gave birth to God.
The God who made all things gave himself form through Mary,
and thus he made his own creation.
He who could create all things from nothing would not remake his ruined created without Mary.

(From a sermon by St. Anselm, Office of Reading, Feast of the Immaculate Conception, Liturgy of the Hours I, 1229.)

The liturgical chant, simple, beautiful, and accessible for all to sing is lovelier still on Mother’s Day:

Mary the Dawn, Christ the perfect Day;
Mary the Gate, Christ the Heavnly Way!
Mary the Root, Christ, the Mystic Vine;
Mary the Grape, Christ the Sacred Wine!
May the Wheat-Sheaf, Christ the Living Bread
Mary the Rose-Tree, Christ the Rose-Blood-red.
Mary the Font, Christ the Cleansing Flood;
Mary the Chalice, Christ the Saving Blood!
Mary the Temple, Christ the Temple’s Lord;
Mary the Shrine, Christ the God adored.
Mary the Beacon, Christ the Haven’s Rest;
Mary the Mirror, Christ the Vision Blest!
Mary the Mother, Christ the Mother’s Son.
Both ever blest while endless ages run.

“Credentials,” a poem by Daniel Berrigan, S.J., describes the essence of a rose and the loveliest rose God ever made:

So the rose is its own credential, a certain
unattainable form: wearing its heart visibly,
it gives us heart too: bud, fulness and fall.

How the Church built western sacred music: part three

Thu, 02 May 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

The music of Western civilization was born in the Catholic Church. Adapted from mid-eastern chants, it began with Pope St. Sylvester I (4th century), who founded a school of choristers. It was then supervised by Pope St. Damasus (d 384) and Leo the Great (d 461). Pope St. Gregory (d 604), after whom plainchant was named, collected, adapted, and codified the many chants for liturgy. Benedictine monks and nuns taught the laity to sing plainchant. Today, hundreds of chant manuscripts are preserved in monasteries for scholarly study.

Enriching the World with 3,000 Melodies

Gregorian chant may well be the Roman Church’s single most contribution to world culture. Its soaring exuberance can evoke rapture. The present-day Gregorian chant repertory consists of almost 3,000 melodies – all monophonic and without instrumental accompaniment, sung with measured but rhythmically free lines.

The Roman Rite became more or less fixed in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and with it, the basic outline of plainsong, cantus planus, as Gregorian chant came to be called. By the thirteenth century, ornate chants accompanied equally elaborate liturgies. When the chants became too difficult and linguistically remote for general use, the laity fell passively silent at liturgy, unfortunately for the next several centuries.

In the nineteenth century, a renewal was initiated, but the definitive restoration of the chant came about with Dom Prosper Guéranger, O.S.B. during the pontificate of Pius IX. From the pontificate of Pius X (1903-14 ) to the present day, major seminaries and houses of formation have been singled out to promote the teaching and study of Gregorian chant, it is that important to the Church’s liturgical life.

With the renewed ecclesiology of Vatican II, full, active, and conscious participation of the Assembly was pursued as the expected outcome in liturgical worship. Vatican II’s “Sacrosanctum Concilium” did not banish the chant from the Eucharistic liturgy (#115 ff). Other suitable music was welcomed, but chant, holding “pride of place,” still remained the official music of the Roman Church. Other music was not to overshadow or displace it.

Some pastors resorted to a four-hymn Mass structure using good, solid Protestant hymns to urge singing among the faithful. Soon, an altogether foreign style pushed its way into the liturgical service, thereby sweeping away fifteen hundred years of pure, crystalline chant. Happily, it continued to flourish in monasteries and in isolated parish churches.

Gregorian Chant Banished

A stunned scholarly world looked on, appalled at the sudden appearance of poorly-composed tunes played by strummed guitars with anything that could be banged. These instruments accompanied texts, at first, non-biblical and secular. Eventually, scripture prevailed.

This seismic shock was presented as a measure to jump-start participation in the liturgy, in addition to Protestant hymns. No longer heard was the dictum, “the home of Gregorian chant is wherever there are Roman Catholics.” Was this new rage, so-called folk music, a temporary phenomenon? Or would it permanently displace Gregorian chant?

Over the years, musicologists still agree that the most consequential result of Vatican II has been the exiling of Gregorian chant from the Roman Church. It was a boorish act.

The Vatican Letter to Bishops. What If . . .

In 1975, a letter was sent to all bishops regarding the minimum repertoire of singing Gregorian chant in the parishes. Because that year was the Holy Year, large international gatherings of pilgrims were expected in Rome, and it was urged, among other reasons, that Gregorian chant be sung because “it is a sign of unity among diverse ethnic Catholic groups who gather either internationally or in the local parish churches” (“Letter to Bishops on the Minimum Repertoire of Plain Chant”). In 2007, the same directive was issued by the USCCB.

Today our parishes are already international communities, and the letter has assumed a new urgency. By realizing the musical unity of plainchant, the parish church can pass on the treasury of sacred music to the next generation of Catholics. The regular practice of singing a few Mass settings should take priority over all other composed Mass settings. The easiest chants of the Ordinary are: Mass XVII (“Deus Genitor Alme”), Mass XI (“Orbis factor”), VIII (“De Angelis”), IX (“Cum Jubilo”), and XVIII (For Advent and Lent).

Pause for a moment and imagine the effect on the universal Church if these Mass settings were sung in all Roman churches throughout the world. Their profound beauty would lift up the Church and light up the world. Having stood the test of centuries, the melodies are easy to sing and easily memorized. This inestimable treasure is our musical inheritance. It beckons us to learn how to cherish them and hand them on to the next generation. It is not the responsibility of other faith traditions to carry on the tradition, but ours, for the sake of our Church and the world.

Training in Seminaries and Houses of Formation

The distinguished Catholic architect, Duncan Stroik, has urged major seminaries to include instruction on sacred architecture. Similarly, with painting and statuary. Most of all, knowledge and understanding of Gregorian chant should be taught to seminarians by trained instructors with a profound respect for plainchant. These seminarians are our future priests and pastors, some of whom will be appointed Ordinaries of dioceses. Proper musical training will sharpen and elevate their decisions regarding liturgical music.

Liturgical documents have directed that plainchant be part of the singing repertoire of the faithful who should be taught the basic chants under the aegis of trained directors, attuned to the mind of the Church. But seminaries and houses of formation must take the lead.

Despite fifty years of opposition to rediscovering our musical heritage, there are vital signs of renewal, thanks largely to renewal of the chant in monasteries, to periodicals and online agencies whose sole purpose is to revitalize the Church through sacred music.

In “Catholicism,” the series produced by Fr. Robert Barron, the viewer is drawn into its beauty as the context for each segment. Listen carefully, and you will hear Gregorian chants in the background. We first experience our faith as beautiful. Or, we should. This beauty expresses its truth and goodness, all of which culminate in love.

Walking Out

American Catholics seek to encounter God at the Eucharistic liturgy. Why should they be forced to sing unsuitable music? Or, if they do like it, their taste may be called into question. People will travel long distances to churches with beautiful liturgies that nourish their lives. Too many have already changed parishes on this account. Worse, people are walking out.

The market is flooded with music for church use. Their quality varies from poorly-composed to sublime. Music directors also vary in quality from the untrained to the consummate professional. Still, the norm seems to be that there is no norm. To each director, his or her own musical pope!

Several years ago, when I would visit Eastern Christian parish churches, parishioners would frequently ask: “How do you like our chant?” Or, “how did you like our singing?” It was obvious that their chant heritage occupied “pride of place.” They took pride in their heritage which, for them, meant encountering God in worship and praise.

(To be continued.)

Unemployment and St. Joseph the Worker

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

In 1955, Pope Pius XII designated May 1st as the feast of St. Joseph the Worker to counter two other celebrations in the Northern Hemisphere: the pagan and neo-pagan festivities ushering in spring and International Workers’ Day for unions, workers, and socialists. In most of these countries, May Day is an official holiday, and preparations are already underway for its festivities.

While Labor Day focuses on the value of both work and leisure, loss of employment and financial crisis can provoke despair or trigger acedia and ennui. These are states of listlessness and boredom which dull the sense of wonder, a thought implicit in the psalm verse: “Be still and know that I am God.” (Ps 46:10)

In actively seeking employment, the individual proceeds as though all depends on oneself. What else can the individual do during this time? While coping with such extreme hardship, attention to unplanned leisure can remind one that being is as important as doing. Still, with employment comes dignity because men and women strive to improve the quality of their lives.

Perennial questions persist: “Why does God want me alive? And what must I do?” There are other questions: “What is the meaning and value of all this activity? How should these benefits be used? Where are the efforts of individuals and communities finally leading us?” (Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, “Gaudium et Spes” 33-34) This brings the person of faith to prayer – praying as though all depends on God.

In Times of Unemployment, Go to Joseph

Joseph was called upon to support, protect, and care for his family. Who can doubt that he worked diligently for Mary and the Child? He was charged with teaching the boy-Christ and preparing him for ministry. Joseph, the exemplar of fatherhood, lived in the presence of the God-Man and Messiah. The boy-Christ learned the art of labor from Joseph. The theologian Peter Schoonenberg writes that “Jesus sanctified labor, not by endowing it with technical perfection, but by performing it out of love.” (“God’s World in the Making,” 177)

To describe Joseph as a just man is to understate his stature. The just ones embody and integrate the biblical virtues. Because they remain rooted in the Lord, they bring forth fruit: “The just will flourish like the palm-tree and grow like a Lebanon cedar. . . . . The just are like trees planted near streams; they bear fruit in season and their leaves never wither. All they do prospers” (Ps 1:3-4). Scripture records Joseph’s actions, not his words.

St. Paul tells us that whatever we do, whether we eat, drink, or work, we should do it for the glory of God (1 Cor: 10:31). St. Teresa of Avila tells us that, when she asked St. Joseph to intercede on her behalf, he never disappointed her with favors.

Contemporary Icons of Joseph the Worker

Contemporary artists have portrayed Joseph as a youthful man, consonant with the scriptural accounts. He was not elderly as is shown in Georges de la Tour’s depiction of him. El Greco’s painting of St. Joseph and the young Christ depicts a fairly middle-aged Joseph.

The distinguished artist, Sister Marion Honors, C.S.J., has depicted an iconic woodcut of Joseph the Worker. In it, she uses a technique from the Hellenic, Golden Age of Greece, which was imitated by Caravaggio in the Baroque period. She incorporates it into a contemporary style stamped with her logo, the large, even oversized, hand.

In “The Diskus Thrower” of the Golden Age, the center of attention lies outside the picture of the ‘thrower.’ So too with this woodcut. The center of attention outside the picture claims Joseph’s attention. His entire attention is riveted on looking after his son.

In it, Joseph is depicted as a slender but well-built, strong man, perhaps in his thirties, wearing work clothes with sleeves rolled-up, proud to work as a tradesman. His eyes and well-chiseled facial features show an alert man looking outside and beyond himself, almost as though he is watching and listening for someone. His oversized muscular hands grasp the carpenter’s tools. The hand reveals a great deal; it shapes the brain, language, and human culture, observes Frank R. Wilson in “The Hand.” One cannot but be struck by Joseph’s riveted attention to Son of the Most High. Readers seeking more information about this woodcut may consult the website: marionchonorscsj.com.

“St. Joseph and the Young Christ” is another woodcut by the distinguished American artist, Robert McGovern. Like “Joseph the Worker,” it too depicts a strong but gentle man instructing an aspect of carpentry to his son as though he is saying: ‘Son, hold the wood this way.’ In this woodcut, the companionship between father and son is evident. A reproduction of it may be seen in the “New Catholic Encyclopedia” 7:1112. In both woodcuts, Joseph is portrayed as an inspiring exemplar of labor. Next to the Mother of God, he enjoys the highest honor in the Universal Church. Those who are unemployed can do no better than ask St. Joseph to intercede on their behalf, especially in the form of a novena in advance of May 1st.

How the Church Built Western Civilization: Part Two

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

Last week’s essay described how the Benedictine monks began to rebuild continental Europe after the barbaric invasions. After the sack of Rome in 410, the Church dealt with the barbarians, guided them from doing further carnage, and converted many.

This week, we advance to the Carolingian Renaissance in the eighth and ninth centuries and to convent schools. Rose Kennedy, matriarch of a famous American family, recounts some experiences there as a young woman.

The Carolingian Renaissance “brought a revival of monastic education and the rise of many schools that, despite their small enrollment, exercised a strong influence over an extended period of time” (J. Leclerq,“Monastic Schools,” New Catholic Encyclopedia 9:1031). The most renowned monastic educators were active in Ireland, England, Scotland, and Wales, the Iberian Peninsula, Italy, England, Germany, and France.

First, we should note the accomplishments of St. Hilda of Whitby, which anticipated a renaissance of scholarship and learning in England, and from there, spread to other lands.

A Woman Ahead of Her Time

According to annals written by St. Bede (d 735), Hilda (d 680) was one of the great early medieval figures to foster high educational standards in monasteries. This learned woman served as the abbess, the official head of St. Aidan’s at Whitby in northern England, a double monastery for both men and women which had separate wings. The impressive library she built fostered learning, uncommon in those days. Her community of men and women commanded knowledge of Latin language and literature as well as in philosophy, theology, and the copying of illuminated manuscripts. She trained scholars, five of whom became bishops and cultivated the gift of Caedmon, the first English Christian poet.

A gifted woman of great devotion, Hilda exercised considerable influence in the Church until her death. The forerunner of monastic and convent schools, she is the patron saint of the National Cathedral School for Girls in Washington, D.C. and other schools for girls.

Charlemagne and His Renaissance

The defeat of the Muslims in 732 by Charles Martel prepared the way for Charlemagne to promote the vigorous Carolingian Renaissance, as it came to be known. His long reign as King of the Franks (768-814) represents an important stage in the development of Western Europe. Charlemagne established orderly government and pursued religious and cultural reform, laying a firm foundation on which a civilized, Christian society was later built in Western Europe.

Alcuin

The Carolingian Renaissance is largely indebted to Alcuin (d 804) who was educated in the tradition of Anglo-Saxon humanism at the cathedral school of York, Northumbria, England. Renowned for his learning, Alcuin came to the Carolingian court at Charlemagne’s invitation. There he remained as educator and theologian, poet, writer, adviser and the king’s friend. Later he served as the Abbot ofthe monastery of St. Martin of Tours.

As a youth, Alcuin had studied in the tradition of the great St. Bede, monk and priest, theologian and Doctor of the Church, and the author of Ecclesiastical History. From the York school, Alcuin brought to Charlemagne’s court a love of learning for the glory of God. There he invigorated the studies with the seven liberal arts: the trivium, grammar, logic, and rhetoric, and the quadrivium, arithmetic, astronomy, geometry, and music. He taught Charlemagne and his sons to read and write. Charlemagne sent Alcuin to the Palace School at Aachen in west central Germany (formerly known as Aix-la-Chapelle) to educate the children of royalty.

Like Hilda, Alcuin was far ahead of his time, arguing in defense of free conscience: “Faith is a free act of the will, not a forced act. We must appeal to conscience, not compel it by violence. You can force people to be baptized, but you cannot force them to believe.” Alcuin reiterated that the Church had infused into the culture of the Ancients the good news of Jesus Christ and his Church(19). “The most learned man anywhere to be found” is the way Alcuin is described in Einhard’s Life of Charlemagne.

Convent Schools

Today, some monasteries conduct schools at all levels. The Benedictine-run St. John’s University, Collegeville, MN is one example. The Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (RSCJ) and the Religious of Jesus and Mary (RSJM), both of which are international Orders of consecrated women, conduct convent schools around the world.

In her delightful memoir, Times to Remember, Rose Kennedy recalls some of her experiences at Blumenthal, a convent school in Holland, near the German border and Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle), the ancient capital of Charlemagne. Agnes, her younger sister, had gone with her. At this time, their father, “Honey Fitz,” was the mayor of Boston (1906-08; 1910-14).

January 1908

“At the end of the summer (in Europe), it was decided that Agnes and I would stay on for a year of school. In those times, it was considered a great advantage for a younger person to have gone to school ‘abroad,’ and I find myself still in agreement with this. The place my parents chose was a convent boarding school called Blumenthal (a German word translatable as “Valley of Flowers’” (26-7).

At Blumenthal (1908-9)

Some excerpts written by Rose Kennedy, the student at Blumenthal reveal a happy, young women at a convent school far from home. Filled with energy and ideas, she was a talented student, pious in an unsentimental but delightful way.

1908

“The atmosphere of Blumenthal was religious, as at all convent schools. Blumenthal’s curriculum was unusually concerned with the practical things of this world. It was assumed that the girls when they married would be devoting their lives to Kinder, Kirche, und Küche (children, church, and cooking) and needed to prepare for all the duties implied in that expression” (27). At Blumenthal, she learned to speak French and German.

These young women were expected to marry well. They would manage the entire household while their husbands attended to financial matters. Rose took this responsibility quite seriously and enjoyed doing so. A woman of means and with nine children, she could employ domestic help to assist her in maintaining an orderly home. Rose took full charge of the children’s early religious education, teaching them the faith in practical ways and especially by celebrating the liturgical year with them. There she built “the domestic Church.”

“Well, our first week of school is over. I am glad because I think the first week is always the longest. We had an hour’sinstruction this week on politeness ... The bell has just rung. Good-bye. Much love and kisses to all and my dearest for you and Papa. Rose” (30).

“This afternoon we are going to make a pilgrimage (on foot, of course) to some shrine, about an hour’s distance from here” (30).

October 1908

“Well, another week has gone by. As I am an ‘angel’ (a neophyte in the sodality), I arise at six o’clock (fifteen minutes earlier than the others) and go to meditation nearly every morning. So you see my piety is increasing. If I am extremely angelic, I may become an aspirant for the Children of Mary; later I may become a Child of Mary. That is the highest honor a child of the Sacred Heart can receive. So I shall have to be a model of perfection for the next few months” (31).

January 1909

“This evening the retreat begins. Three days of complete silence will be quite an experience for us all. Of course, the retreat is a great blessing.”

June 1909

“I received my medal for the Child of Mary today. As I told you before, this is the highest honor and blessing a Sacred Heart girl can get and one we can strive for. We are supposed to be a model and a help in the school and someone to be depended upon, etc.” (34).

“This is the feast of the Sacred Heart, and I could tell you a great deal about it and a great many other feast days which we have been having lately” (34).

September 1909

“It was decided that we would not go back to Europe for another year’s study. (Their mother had been terribly lonely when they were away) “Instead, Agnes went to Sacred Heart Convent at Providence, Rhode Island. . ., and I went to the Sacred Heart Convent at Manhattanville, New York” (36).

Rose, the student, wrote delightful prose. Rose, the nonagenarian, wrote a beautiful but poignant memoir. Having read great literature, she instilled the joy of reading to her children. Her quick Irish humor served her well.

When Premier Krushchev signed photographs of himself and President Kennedy and returned them to Rose, she sent them to her son with a note about her plan to have the photographs signed by him and then make the exchange with Krushchev.

“I received the following letter from (Jack): ‘Dear Mother: If you are going to contact the head of state, it might be a good idea to consult me or the State Department first, as your gesture might lead to international complications. Love, Jack.’”

Her reply:

“Dear Jack: I am so glad you warned me about contacting the head of state, as I was just about to write to Castro. Love, Mother” (348).

Last Years

Years later while musing about her faith Rose Kennedy gave strong witness to it.

“If God were to take away all His blessings, health, physical fitness, wealth, intelligence, and leave me but one gift, I would askfor faith – for with faith in Him, in His goodness, mercy, love for me, and belief in everlasting life, I believe I could suffer the loss of my other gifts and be happy – trustful, leaving all to His inscrutable providence” (444).

In addition to steadfast devotion to the Mother of God and to the Stations of the Cross, Rose writes this:

“Another favorite is the Meditations by Cardinal Newman, which always brings me consolation when I am discouraged and find myself in an inexplicable dilemma—some turn of events that seems to be unexpected and unnecessary” (446).

Rose had absorbed, she had assimilated the very best that convent schools could offer. Faith permeating a family, thoroughly-educated, articulate, and mission-oriented—this was Rose’s vocation, her responsibility, and her deep joy.

Rose had almost everything, including length of days. As with so many families, tragedy struck time and again, and in a very public way. Yet, she bore each with unimaginable grace—after she traipsed back and forth along the beach of the family compound, alone, her head scarf flapping in the wind, her hand clutching a rosary.

The Book of Judith aptly describes this ‘product’ of convent schools and the matriarch of a distinguished American family:

“Now she was a very beautiful, charming woman to see

with a beguiling tongue

demonstrating to every nation, every tribe

that God is almighty and all-powerful.

Her fame spread more and more the older she grew in her husband’s house;

she lived to the age of a hundred and five” (Judith: 8:7; 9: 14; 16: 23-24).

To be continued ...

How the Church built Western civilization: part one

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

At his papal election in 2003, why did Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger take the name Benedict? Because it was the Benedictine Order who, systematically and comprehensively, rebuilt Europe after the barbaric invasions. This fact is of such vital importance that it must be restated, or even stated for the first time, and without embarrassment. It is quite remarkable that some European leaders refuse to acknowledge Europe’s Christian roots and, specifically, the Church’s role in building its civilization. Had it not been for the Church, Europe would have developed in a different form. The Church was Europe’s light in darkness.

The title of this essay is the very same as the informative book by Thomas E. Woods, Jr., who answers the implicit question: What was the role and significance of the Catholic Church in the development of Western European civilization? In other words, How the Church Built Western Civilization.

Remote Roots of Western Civilization

How and when did Western civilization begin? Early Christianity developed according to a Hellenized Judaism, and the Church is largely responsible for handing down the cultural thoughts and traditions of Greece and Rome. Until the fifth century, Western Europe was overrun by nomadic and barbaric tribes. After the sack of Rome in 410, the Church became the one indispensable instrument for christianizing them, first through the monks and their monasteries.

The Rise of Monasticism

The early forms of monastic life developed from the third century in the Christian East where hermits and consecrated virgins lived ascetical lives while serving the poor and the sick. They are known as the first monastics because the word from the Greek, monos, connotes solitude. The first monastics wanted to flee from the world because they believed it to be evil.

Western Monasticism

Western monasticism is a way of life in which men and women consecrate themselves by public vows to live in a stable place. There they alternate communal and solitary prayer and work in their daily lives. Their prayer is mainly the Liturgy of the Hours, sung or prayed round the clock to fulfill the Lord’s command to “pray always.” Today, some monks and nuns are more withdrawn than others, living the cloistered life.

St. Benedict, the Benedictine Order, and the Monastic Centuries

In the middle of the sixth century, a small movement changed the landscape of the European world. Benedict of Nursia (480-547) introduced a new way of life and thinking that has brought vitality to contemporary men and women. He laid the foundation of Benedictine monastic life with his monks first at Subiaco and Rome, and then at Monte Cassino in 529.

Benedict composed his Rule of disciplined balance that fostered order and peace. If “pray andwork” (ora et labora) was the Benedictine motto, the way to live it was through beauty, piety, and learning. Every monastery was built on an expansive tract of land, and eventually it became a center of life—a miniature civic center for the townspeople. Today, people gather at shopping malls or in village squares.

Monastic Activity

After the year 600 and for five centuries thereafter, the Benedictines promoted a rich liturgical spirituality and high intellectual pursuits. During these centuries, the monks served as church administrators. By and large, they were the only educators and writers of the ages.

Living the Liturgy

Medieval culture was synonymous with Christian culture. Monasteries celebrated the year of grace with simple beauty. Every day of the calendar year was identified with a saint’s name and not with a number, as we do today. Peasants paused and prayed at Noon, three o’clock, and at six to mark three Hours of the liturgy. Sacramental celebrations were village celebrations. People punctuated their greetings with adieu, adios, or good bye, the equivalent of "God be with you."

The Practical Arts

The monks were the agriculturalists of Europe. The list of their accomplishments is almost limitless: They drained swamps and converted them from disease-ridden places into fertile regions; cleared away forests for the neighboring inhabitants, introduced new crops, and stored up waters from springs to distribute in times of droughts. They ran a basic hospital for the sick. Not surprisingly, the Benedictines pioneered the production of wine in addition to the discovery of champagne. In all these endeavors, they linked their activity with preaching the gospel (Woods, 28ff).

The Monks as Technical Advisers

The monks built their own monastery chapels and other monastery buildings. With their expertise, they advised the people as technologists in areas such as metallurgy, iron works, marble quarrying, glassworks for stained glass windows, all done with monastic savoir-faire. They saw the beauty of creation everywhere (Woods, 34ff).

Ministry of Hospitality and Other Charitable Works

Anyone who has ever visited a Benedictine monastery or abbey knows first-hand about its gracious manners and warm hospitality. The monasteries served as gratuitous inns providing a safe and peaceful resting place for the foreign traveler, pilgrim, and the poor.

“A special bell rang every night,” reports Woods, “to call any wandering traveler or to anyone overtaken by the intimidating forest darkness. The people called it ‘the bell of the wanderers’” (38).

The Scriptorium and Preservation of Manuscripts

Many monasteries came to be known for special skills: some, for medicine, others for painting and engraving, producing and copying illuminated manuscripts of the Ancients. Still others composed and copied the music that had been handed down to them or shared with them from other monasteries.

A monk would be sent to another monastery to learn new music being sung there. Then he would return to his scriptorium where adaptations might be made. Copyists recorded this music or the music that was composed within that monastery. A monk with beautiful handwriting was assigned to do the calligraphy; gifted monks pained illuminated letters. Every once in a while, a jokester-monk might write in the margin of a page: ‘I’ve been here for four hours.’ These artistic works were without signature, done anonymously and for God’s glory. Today, museums are indebted to the monastics for the preservation of all types of manuscripts.

Monastic Schools

Education in the Middle Ages was conducted within the confines of the monastery by monks, and later, by nuns. They offered religious and general education to youth who intended to enter the monastic or clerical life and to youth who were preparing for public life. These lived at home. Young children of six or seven years of age were taught the basics. The majority, especially potential monks and nuns, were taught to read Latin, writing, chant, arithmetic, and learning how to read time on the sun dial. The main text was the Psalter. From the eighth century onward, students were taught the seven liberal arts, the trivium, grammar, logic, and rhetoric, and the quadrivium, arithmetic, astronomy, geometry, and music. The ideal monastery of the Benedictine Orderwas that of Saint Gall in present-day Switzerland where the town flourished around the monastery.

The So-Called Dark Ages

“The monks gave to the whole of Europe a network of factories, centers of breeding livestock, centers of scholarship, preservation of manuscripts of earlier ages, especially of Greece and Rome, the art of manners, the art of hospitality,” writes Woods (5). These disciplines were supported and advanced under the guidance of the Church in the so-called Dark Ages. By the eighth century, Benedictine monasteries had spread from Italy to Ireland, England, Scotland and Wales, to present-day France, the Netherlands, Germany and Scandinavia.

St. Benedict of Nursia is considered the architect of western monasticism. His monks, the fathers of European civilization. To be continued.

Plunging into the baptismal waters of Easter

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

An Excerpt from “The Blow of Mercy”

“I still remember my first high dive,” he began. “At some point, you have to try it. You can’t keep practicing on the lower board. I had screwed up my courage and told myself I was diving into the arms of Jesus. It was a leap of faith with no support except trust. There was no turning back, midair. The dive was total and took over completely. The early Christians did it that way. I mean the catechumens. When they got baptized, they plunged into the pool and were immersed in the waters that washed them clean. They had dived into the blood of the Lamb and had come out the other side, new beings. There’s no way around the terror. You have to risk death by letting go if you’re going to be reborn. You need to be kept in the waters, screaming and struggling, before you rise to new life. You have to go under three times, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. As you sink, you may splash and flail. You may gag and choke and think you’re dying. And in a way, you are. The prospect of drowning’s a fearful thing. Then suddenly, something happens. The dead weight drops off, and you find yourself coasting along, light and free. You breathe in the clean air, joyous at being alive. The grace of the Lord has buoyed you up.” (Joseph Roccasalvo, Outward Signs)

Taking the Plunge into Baptismal Waters

In describing his initial plunge into deep waters, the young diver compares his leap to the plunge into baptismal waters. It is the leap of faith, the thrill of living on “the razor’s edge.”

The diver has it right: terror of letting go, no human support, trust, subjective certainty and objective probability, the plunge and immersion, being buried in the water, more trust, the Trinitarian blessing, being borne up, coasting light and free, breathing in the clean air, joy at being alive in Christ.

Beginning the Leap

In early Christianity, it was exceedingly difficult for a candidate to enter the Church. Every real Christian was called to live as an ambassador for Christ, but the conditions for becoming a Christian were as rigid as entering a strict religious Order today. Every candidate was required to get a recommendation before entering the catechumenate.

The early Church could not conceive of half-hearted Christians. When the few defections did come, it was the imminent prospect of martyrdom that had proved to be an insurmountable barrier; discipleship cost too much. Therefore, the Church prepared to be small in number rather than be unfaithful to her principles, to endanger them, or to water them down.

Length of Catechumenate

How long did it take for a candidate to become a full-fledged Christian? The trial period took three years. It was a sort of novitiate during which time candidates learned and assimilated the teaching of the Church through instruction on Sacred Scripture. They were also expected to know the Apostles’ Creed and give a summary of it to the bishop. Above all, it was their personal encounter with Christ that mattered.

The Final Stages before Baptism

The “final exam” for Baptism was the witness of their own lives, the most important aspect of their training. For the last weeks of preparation, they were expected to intensify their fasting, prayer, vigils, and, if necessary, undergo exorcism. As their immediate preparation, they observed a strict fast on Holy Saturday. Easter was the chosen feast for becoming a Christian because of the rich symbolism: Catechumens would be baptized and buried with Christ; then they would rise again with Christ (Rom 6:17).

Rite of Adult Baptism

There were four steps in the rite of Baptism.

1. Renouncing Satan. The festive procession took place, a dramatic triumphal procession, a marching around like at some god’s feast, at which all the idols were carried along. There were two camps, one led by Satan’s army and the other by the army of Christ. The candidates dropped out of the devil’s camp and entered the camp of Christ’s army.

2. Oil of Exorcism. As the priest addressed those who were to be baptized, they renounced Satan, saying: “I renounce you, Satan, and all your pomps and all your works.” Then they were anointed with the oil of exorcism, letting the evil spirits depart from them.

3. Triple Immersion into baptismal water.

4. When the candidate came up, each was anointed by the priest with the oil of thanksgiving, saying: “I anoint you with holy oil in the name of Jesus Christ. As they dried themselves, each put on his or her white robe; and after this, they faced the Assembly as part of the Body of Christ.

Chrism is a mixture of olive oil and balsam, a symbol of adherence to Christ, the “Anointed One.” The fragrance, mixed with oil, soothes and comforts. As for infant baptism, from the very beginning, it was taken for granted that the children of Christian parents would be baptized in infancy.

Putting on Christ and the Theme of Beauty

Of great significance was the robe. Donning the white outer robe symbolized putting on Christ, wearing Christ, as the scripture says: All those who have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Gal 3:17).

In his many baptismal instructions, St. John Chrysostom (d 407) refers to the theme of beauty. New Christians have been anointed with the oil of gladness. They are to let their light shine out, for each of them is a new creation more brilliant than the rays of the sun.

The power of the baptismal garment cannot be overstated. The luster of this robe which time cannot touch and which age cannot dim. Prayer, above all, can guard continuously for us the luster of this special garment. If the neophytes do this well, they will be able to keep in full bloom the beauty of this spiritual robe, the baptismal robe.

The neophytes are like earthly stars, and they shine more brilliantly than those of heaven. They are the joy of the Church.

Today’s Renewal of Baptismal Vows at Easter

At the Easter Vigil Liturgy and on Easter Sunday, Catholics renew their baptismal vows following those newly baptized. Renewal means embracing the person of Christ as the one and only Lord of the universe. God in Christ is not one of many gods, for this is Gnosticism. Our baptismal renewal is not an once-in-a-lifetime event. It is an ongoing process begun as infants when our parents and godparents promised to walk with us toward freedom in Christ. It means renouncing the pomps of Satan.

Where are the pomps of Satan today? Our post-Christian age is more exposed to subtle sins than at a less sophisticated time. We are adept at rationalizing our excuses and evasions. It is easy to defend error. Dull consciences can make error plausible and can make vice look like virtue. The devil is a liar and lures us into various ways:

Materialism denies the existence of the soul. Men and women are nothing more than a higher species of the animal kingdom.

Consumerism dictates that luxuries are necessities. I must have them, and now.

Relativism holds that morality varies according to differences in cultural and attitudes. There is no universal and objective truth to guide one’s attitude and behavior. Morality is a subjective thing.

Secular humanism excludes or denies the existence any religious values. It focuses exclusively on the finite world. Do good in the here and now, and without God, because there is no tomorrow.

Pelagianism is basically self-sufficiency. I am in control of my life.

For the sophisticated aesthetes, the beauty of art is their god. They forget that all beauty and all art ultimately derived from and point to the divine artist. When the tragedy of 9/11 exploded before us, religious people turned to prayer for comfort in the face of mindless tragedy. Others dealt with the pain by turning to music.

Unless a Man Be Born Again . . .

Christ told Nicodemus that his followers must be born again of water and the Spirit (Jn 3:3). When we put on Christ as our robe, we shine forth beauty. When we do not, we mask ourselves with costumes. For when we are not Christ, we are not truly ourselves.

Easter reminds us that Christ did not merely return to life; he is life itself. He lives in the present in the everlasting today. Easter men and women wear their baptismal robes and proclaim “Alleluia” from head to toe. Catholicism then is not a bloodless faith that is overcome by the culture but the energizer, catalyst, and driver of the culture. Catholicism evangelizes the commonplace.
“Brothers and sisters: Are you not aware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life” (Rom 6:3-4).

Isn’t this what diver was saying?

The folly of the Cross and the glory of the Lord

Wed, 27 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

What is the meaning of suffering? Holy Week confronts each of us with this inscrutable question. Whether physical, mental, emotional or spiritual, suffering spares no one. It does violence to the person and to groups of people. It comes from us and others, from places, events, and unfulfilled expectations. ‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’ To whom shall we go for answers? For consolation? If life is a riddle, doesn’t someone owe me an answer? If it’s all a joke, what is the punch line?

Questions about suffering inevitably lead to questions about God and the meaning of life. Where is God in suffering? A powerful and all-loving God would not permit suffering. Therefore, God must be a sadist or an impotent entity. Such inescapable questions haunt persons of faith and those of no faith because they affect us at the very core of daily living.

In one symphony after the other, Gustav Mahler, asks the question of all questions: What is the meaning of life and why is it filled with suffering? Among his trials was the fact that his wife Alma was a collector of men. The question dogged him to the rest of his life despite the fact that, in his Second Symphony, “the Resurrection,” the final text cries out: “Rise again, my heart, in the twinkling of an eye! What thou hast fought for, it shall lead thee to God!”

By contrast, in his famous Ninth Symphony, “The Ode to Joy,” Beethoven, completely deaf in 1824, brings joy out of intense suffering.

Jesus and the Human Condition

When everything has been done to remove suffering, and it persists, a person either deals with it or suffers more intensely from fighting it. Grave suffering re-arranges the whole of one’s life, but maturity begins with accepting the fact that struggle is an integral part of life. With it comes the invitation to grow in compassion, wisdom, and love.

And yet, even in dark hours, we do sense a ray of light in the darkness that holds meaning for us. Despite setbacks and in the face of despair, Christian hope is possible only in the light of Christ’s redemption for he comes in absolute love that identifies itself with suffering and with the sufferers of the world. He suffers in solidarity with us.

Jesus did not seek out suffering for its own sake. He was weighed down with suffering from all sides. Human malice did him in. Doesn’t this have a familiar ring to it? In human terms, his life was an appalling failure. A skeptical culture asks if Jesus is the world’s redemptive hope. If the cross leads to diminishment and loss, in what way can an instrument of Roman torture be considered a triumph and “the tree of life?” What is the significance of Jesus’ suffering? Of my own suffering? How can suffering be transformed into something meaningful and even beautiful?

The Mission of Jesus

In spending his life for others, Jesus shared with them his mission and exemplified the mandate of love. This itinerant rabbi cultivated relationships with people of all types. Instead of ingratiating himself with the powerful, he stood with the poor. According to the religious authorities, he blasphemed by daring to call God his Abba – his papa, whose kingdom he was proclaiming. His Abba was also ours, who forgives us, and makes us his children once more. To some, Jesus seemed like the Messiah, with an aura of glory about him. To others, he was a pretender and rabble rouser. How could this man be God in human form? Jewish leaders had to deal with him under the eye of Roman rule, and he faced their criticism with dignity and without retaliation. The person of Jesus remains the unique standard by which beauty, truth, goodness, all aspects of love, are judged.

The Jewish Pasch

Every year at Passover, Jews throughout the world recall, re-live, and celebrate the saving mystery of God’s deliverance of them. The Passover prefigures the Christian celebration of the paschal mystery of the Lord. At the time of the Exodus, the angel of death passed over Jewish homes marked by the blood of the lamb (Ex 12ff). To make their escape, they hurriedly baked unleavened bread, ate and consumed the roasted lamb. This act completed the blood sacrifice of the Old Covenant, for to eat the sacrificial victim was to partake of the fruits of the sacrifice (Jer 11:19-20;1 Cor 10:18). The blood of the unblemished lamb was a scapegoat that spared the Israelites from continued slavery. Henceforth, the Feast of the Unleavened Bread was to be kept as a sacred memorial – transformed later in to Holy Thursday, for Catholics and Orthodox Christians.

The New Pasch

Similarly, each Holy Week, Christians recall, re-live, and celebrate the saving events of Christ, as the Passover Lamb who fulfills the Hebrew prophecies. The liturgies of the Triduum summarize them: the fall of Adam through pride and disobedience, the consequences of the first sin, Jesus’ earthly life, passion, death, and Resurrection. Like the Passover ritual, the liturgies wash over the faithful as together they experience their personal and ecclesial salvation. The mystery of the God-Man is a powerful symbol that has inspired artists, writers, and composers throughout history.

On Good Friday, the most solemn day of the liturgical year, a hushed Christian world ponders Christ’s death expressed in many texts, one of which proclaims: “Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the salvation of the world. Come, let us adore.” Human logic recoils at this proclamation.

The Examples of Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Jackie Robinson

Suffering may be chosen for a higher purpose. Three figures of recent memory resemble Jesus and his mission, though his was not primarily concerned with the temporal. Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. entered public service for the sake of justice and ultimately gave their lives for it: Gandhi, to win India’s independence, and King, to implement Civil Rights in the United States. The events that unfolded in their lives became the context for their respective missions. They spoke of freedom in simple, profound, and authoritative words, drawing people from disparate places. The unjust oppression of the powerless provoked their reaction. In the face of legal but immoral laws, they resisted, but non-violently. Though Gandhi and King saw the inevitable dangers threatening their message, they accepted the real possibility of dying for their respective causes.

Jackie Robinson did not die a martyr, but in the 1940's, he anticipated the Civil Rights Movement. He suffered for the cause of the Negro and for all minority men and women in sports breaking the intractable color barrier with uncommon dignity. Branch Rickey, owner of the Dodger franchise warned Robinson that as the first black man to play in the major leagues, he dared not retaliate against prejudice, however fierce. Time and again Robinson “turned his cheek.” The memories of these men remain fixed in our collective memory for the beauty, truth, and goodness of their characters. Their lives shine like the stars.

Prophecies of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of the Lord. Philippians 2:5-11

Jesus predicted his passion and death to fulfill the prophecies through the mouths of the Old Testament prophets. In fact, centuries before Christ, the prophecies predicted that the expected Messiah would be despised and rejected by men.

In St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians, the divine plan of the Incarnation and the paschal mystery hovers over universal redemption. Christianity proclaims that Jesus saves all men and women by canceling out Adam’s pride and disobedience with humility and obedience. As a result and with our cooperation, all men and women are redeemed. In the Incarnation, Jesus freely put aside his divine status without changing or clinging to it. As an act of love towards his Father, he assumed his redemptive mission.

The Father and the Son

The Johannine gospel, more than the Synoptic narratives, initiates a rich Trinitarian theology of three salvific agents. Here, the reciprocal love between the Father and the Son is striking. Jesus reveals what his Father meant to him in the language of love: “I am in the Father, and the Father is in me.” (Jn 14:10) Jesus speaks of our participation in this divine life: “...You will understand that I am in my Father, and you in me and I in you.” (Jn 14:20) The relationship is one of love, and this outpouring of love is the Spirit, a divine person. The Father-Son relationship is the centerpiece of this gospel. Though inseparable and distinct from the Father and Son, the Spirit proceeds from both by way of love. It was not necessary for the Father to command his Son to suffer; love sees the need and responds to it.

Jesus’ Solidarity with Humankind

The scene of the Agony in the Garden surprises us. On the verge of crisis, Jesus prays not for strength, courage, and acceptance of his Father’s will. Instead we witness the human repugnance, the horror, the revolt, and the effort to escape. With the arrival of the final hour, Jesus becomes Everyman when he cries out with the Psalmist, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” (Ps 22:1) He pours himself out, “tasting death for everyone,” (Heb 2:9) but his plea is made without despairing. Jesus seeks consolation from his Father, because his life has been spent pleasing his Father (Jn 8:29). But now, he feels abandoned by the one he most loves. “It is as if the Father loads on him the full burden of sin that is absolutely opposed to God. How can this be? The one who is God’s Word in the world is dumb,” writes” Hans Urs von Balthasar (The Glory of the Lord, VII: 208). And yet, Jesus trusts his Father to the very end. Psalm 22 ends on a note of hope; the Lord has not hidden his face from the suffering soul.

Finally, “it is finished,” and Jesus releases his Spirit (Jn 19:30). His powerlessness is shot through with God’s power to save, and his obedience of love is raised high in final glorification. Everything has been pared down to two aspects of one reality: love as the reason for his suffering and total dependency on the Father.

Although Jesus has fulfilled the Scriptures, his suffering is not that of a passive man but of one who actively receives and responds. The drama of Jesus’ suffering of love was undertaken pro me and pro nobis, and every man and woman is a player on the stage of this spectacular tableau. Each of us is Judas and Peter, the thieves, the crowds, and the guards, Simon, Veronica, and the beloved disciple. Why suffering? The cross is illogical and has always contradicted human logic. It is a madness, a scandal, a stumbling-block (1Cor 1: 21-22). For the disciple of Christ, the only logic is that of love. Only love is credible. At the same time, the Psalmist often encourages the Israelites to pour out their complaints to the Lord and tell him of all their troubles. They do so repeatedly.

Contemporary logic, which boasts of self-sufficiency, repudiates Christ’s condition as foolishness. But Jesus helps his disciples to make sense out of suffering, not according to the human way of thinking, but according to his. He brings his followers to the cross and, sooner or later, expects us to understand it as his very own logic, despite Paul’s emphatic declaration that the cross is God’s wisdom and power to save (1 Cor 1:17, 25; 2:5). In her Dialogue, St. Catherine of Siena strikes at the heart: “Oh, Loving Madman! Was it not enough for Thee to become Incarnate, that Thou must also die?”

God’s Foolishness Is Salvation: Two Examples from Hebrew Scripture

The Book of Exodus initiates us into God’s folly. Despite Yahweh’s commands that Moses seek the release of his people from the Pharaoh, Moses is forewarned. God will make the ruler obstinate so that he will refuse the request. Is this not sheer madness? When all seems lost, God’s inscrutable logic saves the Jews in the Passover-Exodus event. God’s foolishness is wiser than Moses’ logic.

Job offers another example of God’s foolishness. Job has proved himself a good and faithful servant. A man who has everything suddenly loses all. His loss is unmerited. Anguish afflicts body and soul. He condemns himself and rubs in his failures. Curse God, his friends urge, but he refrains from doing so. The first point the Book of Job makes is that suffering is not evidence of sin. When Job’s friends muse that he has sinned to deserve such misery, the reader knows this to be false. Job’s suffering was a test of his faith. Even as he grew angry with God for being unjust – wishing he could sue him in a court of law – he never abandoned his belief.

Job’s moral outrage prompts God’s response, thereby demonstrating that the sufferer who believes is never alone. God’s voice “out of the whirlwind” carries a less than satisfying response: “Where were you when I laid the Earth’s foundations? Do you really want to reverse my judgment, and put me in the wrong to put you in the right?” (Job 40:83) God’s designs are inscrutable. Though God does not come out of this narrative very well, Job has no response and falls silent. The same is true in the Christian scriptures. “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died,” cries Martha (Jn 11:21). Her despair is surely understandable, but it is transformed into joy when Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.

The Resurrection and the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

He suffered, died, and was raised in resurrection glory by his Father. On September 14th, the Church “lifts high the cross” because God’s weakness and folly prove wiser and stronger than the strength and wisdom of creatures. Suffering has no human logic. Still, in his human nature, Jesus shows us how to suffer. Without suffering out of love, acceptance of pain is a servile act. The lesson is simple, if maddening. Like Moses and Job, we do not save ourselves in the way we want. Each of us is saved within God’s provident care. Without this conviction, we can lose the grace of suffering, and it is a grace. The folly of human suffering becomes our glory, but we experience this only after the fact. It is a paradox.

To use an image from art: We live most of our lives on the hidden side of our own tapestry being woven according to a pattern by the master weaver. How many times must the needle pierce the tapestry before it is completed? We see only tangled and loose threads. The design on the front remains hidden, but it’s there.

The cross is the glory of the Lord. The cross of Jesus was his resurrection. His life was the candle that burned itself out in order to give its light to all. When people suffer out of love for God, it is only the fact that they have been inflamed by the most sublime of beauties – a beauty crowned with thorns – that justifies their sharing in that suffering. In Psalm 22, the faithful soul suffering before a silent God, but that soul places itself entirely in the hands of the Lord who will deliver it. The Psalm closes with the afflicted one praising the Lord. On the cross, Jesus expressed the meaning of Psalm 22 in his prayer to his silent Father. Jesus foretold his last hours on the cross: “If I be lifted up, I will draw all things to myself.” (Jn 12:32) The Father transforms Jesus’ death into resurrection glory. The Father glorifies him as Lord of the universe, God’s perfect work of art. Yes, the lesson is maddening but clear and simple.

'Francis, go and rebuild my Church'

Wed, 20 Mar 2013 00:00:00 -0500

By Sr. Joan L. Roccasalvo, C.S.J.

Last week, when Pope Francis addressed 5,000 secular and Catholic journalists and media, he spoke of how the role of mass media has expanded with its indispensable ability for reporting current events. He thanked all present for their efforts to present the historic and complex events of the recent election, an arcane subject that can even stump Vaticanologists. He elaborated: “The Church does not respond to an earthly logic because the nature of the Church is spiritual, not political.”

“Christ,” he continued, “is the center and reference point at the heart of the Church; the center is not the Successor of Peter. Without Christ, Peter and the Church would not exist.”

In speaking about communication, Pope Francis departed from his prepared text: “Like all other professionals, your work needs study, sensibility, experience, and a special attention to truth, goodness, and beauty – this “trinity of communication. We the Church are not called to communicate ourselves, but this trinity . . . the Church exists to communicate Truth, Goodness, and Beauty,” he intoned. These reflections, irresistibly attractive, are proposed to the entire world.

“Wherever you go, preach the gospel, and if necessary, use words.” This Franciscan proverb is key to rebuilding the world. There are at least two other ways of expressing this thought. ‘To be Christ ... to Christ ... for Christ as Mother Teresa of Calcutta would put it. Or, to quote Gerard Manley Hopkins:

. . . The just man justices;
Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eyes what in God’s eyes he is
Christ – for Christ plays in ten thousand places;
Lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

The Discerning Joseph, Guardian and Protector of Jesus

St. Joseph’s Day was the perfect feast for the inauguration of Pope Francis. Jesus was raised by a just man, a man of faith, a faith embracing beauty, truth, and goodness – all united in love. Through a mystifying dream, Joseph found himself at the center of salvation history. With Mary, the Mother of God, he would play a pivotal role in the life of the young Christ.

The narrative is all too familiar. Joseph found himself in a position, both untenable and irreconcilable. His betrothed was expecting a child, and he was not the father. Though he would reluctantly obey the cruel Law to have his wife stoned to death, he was virtually certain that there was more to the narrative than met the eye. He believed in her innocence. But he had to be told in the most unlikely place, in a dream. Joseph had placed faith in his doubts, because he never doubted his faith. Put in another way, Joseph had grasped the virtue of discernment. His dream translated into the voice of God.

Apart from the Mother of God, Joseph soars above all saints. With Mary, he assumed responsibility in caring for and guarding the body of Christ. The Son of God would mirror his earthly father, even as Joseph was trying to please the Father of them both. This responsibility was his all. None was greater, the one thing necessary. By extension, Joseph stands as the guardian of the Body of Christ, the universal Church. He is well-named: Joseph, “he who adds to; increase.” Like the Mother of God, he too was grace-filled.

A Discerning Pope Francis

Pope Francis intends to follow the Lord’s mandate given to St. Francis of Assisi to go and rebuild his Church. Like Joseph, he undertakes a unique Office in faith. To rebuild, to repair, and to restore the beauty of the Church, this will be a slow and arduous task. If there is one virtue he will need in abundance, it is that of spiritual discernment.

Discernment goes far beyond material concerns. It is keenly attuned to those feelings within the soul, those movements within that blow us one way or another toward good or evil. Discernment seeks to find God’s will and his glory at the center of our decisions. But there is more, a more refined discernment that seeks to distinguish between two goods equally pleasing to God. Which good will I choose? The one which I perceive will give God the greater glory.

St. John the Evangelist warns about testing the spirits that surround us and those that are within us to see of they come from God (1 Jn 4:2 ). The subterfuges of every person’s ego are countless. Discerning one’s spirit is like entering into a deep dark forestof wily creatures ready to ensnare and deceive it through what looks attractive, true, and good – for the self.

Setting the Tone through Silence

The evangelists record not one word spoken by Joseph. If Mary pondered all things in her heart, then surely he did as well. Last week, Jorge Mario Bergoglio, as the future Pope Francis, overtook the world by the tone he set minutes after his election. He is a man of few but essential words. Emily Dickinson captures St. Joseph’s profile and that of Pope Francis:

“I fear a man of frugal Speech –
I fear a Silent Man –
Harranguer – I can overtake –
Or Babbler – entertain –
But He who weigheth – While the Rest –
Expend their furthest pound –
Of this Man – I am wary –
I fear that He is Grand.”

“The Road Not Taken”

For Pope Francis, the task ahead is to be done with Ignatian shrewdness but in the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi, a man of peace, a lover of the poor, a man who loved creation. In his Canticle, didn’t he address Brother Sun, Wind, Air, and Fire as well as Sister Moon, Water, and Mother Earth?

The road to which the Church is now summoned to trod is less traveled. If we take it together, it will make all the difference:

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
. . .
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”

Robert Frost