Sunday, August 16, 2015

Wisdom from the Saints: The Sermons from the Curé of Ars (12th Sunday after Pentecost)

All of our religion is but a false religion and all our virtues are mere illusions and we ourselves are only hypocrites in the sight of God if we have not that universal charity for everyone, for the good and for the bad, for the poor people as well as for the rich, for all those who do us harm as much as for those who do us good.
No, my dear brethren, there is no virtue which will let us know better whether we are the children [of] God than charity. The obligation we have to love our neighbor is so important that Jesus Christ put it into a Commandment which He placed immediately after that by which He commands us to love Him with all our hearts. He tells us that all the law and the prophets are included in this commandment to love our neighbor. Yes, my dear brethren, we must regard this obligation as the most universal, the most necessary and the most essential to religion and to our salvation.
Excerpts from this sermon was taken from Una Morrissy, trans. The Sermons of the Curé of Ars (Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, 1995), 166.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Mary: Model of Perfect Discipleship

We fly to thy patronage, O holy Mother of God;
despise not our petitions in our necessities,
but deliver us always from all dangers,
O glorious and blessed Virgin. Amen.

What I appreciate about traditional church architecture is its ability to communicate the faith to its visitors. You see, for much of history, the vast majority of people were illiterate. The Church, then, in designing worship spaces, constructed churches in such a way as to catechize the faithful. Hence, the floorplan, the dimensions, the building material, the statues, the art, and so forth, were not empty in meaning. They were the “books,” so to speak, that the faithful read in order to learn their faith.
Several years ago, I visited a church in San Diego, CA called St. Mary Magdalene’s. Walking into the church, I had to tilt my head back – in a way that high ceilings command its occupants to do – and I couldn’t help but notice that it was designed as an upside-down ship hull. This design taught what the early Church knew so well: the Church is like a ship.[1] Apparently, the design of the upside-down ship hull has made an impression on the lexicon of church architecture, as the middle of church buildings – no matter how it is designed – is still called the nave, from the Latin navis, which means “ship.”
Like a ship at sea, we, the Church, are on a journey, in particular, we are on a journey toward heaven. However, this is not an easy journey. Like a ship at sea, the Church also experiences storms and is at risk of being capsized. The tempestuous storms of temptation and worldliness and the ship-turning threats of sin and vice try to steer us away from our heavenly destination.
In the midst of these dark storms, we have a guiding light: Mary, the Star of the Sea (Stella Maris). Given the date of the Sub Tuum Praesidium (3rd century), as well as the original Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore (5th century),[2] Mary, the Mother of God, has been for centuries a bright star guiding the Pilgrim Church at sea toward her Son, Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
At the wedding at Cana, when there was no more wine, Mary told the servants, “Do whatever he [Jesus] tells you” (Jn 2:5). Mary’s words reveal a fundamental orientation that characterizes the whole of Mary’s life, both in the Gospels and in the Church from its beginnings to the present-day: she always leads us to hear and do whatever Jesus tells us. Therefore, in this talk, I will briefly examine three events of Mary’s life in light of the Gospels and Church tradition: the Annunciation of the Angel Gabriel to Mary, Mary at the Foot of the Cross, and Mary’s first encounter with her resurrected Son. In these three events, I will focus on three characteristics of Christian discipleship that Mary perfectly modeled: embracing the will of God, perseverance, and contemplation. By examining these three events, I hope that we can once again be guided by this “Star of the Sea” and better orient our lives toward Jesus, without whom there is no salvation.
At the conclusion of the Angel Gabriel’s visit to Mary, announcing the vocation of Mary’s motherhood to the Savior, Mary said, “I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). This phrase is oftentimes summarized in the Latin word fiat, literally, “let it be done.” Mary’s fiat was a complete embrace of God’s will. In our culture, where abortion is commonplace (an average of nearly 4,000 abortions occur every day in the United States alone), our minds have been formed into separating conception from motherhood. A baby in the womb does not mean you have to be a mother, says our culture. Mary’s vocation to conceive Jesus, however, was not merely a nine-month contract. It was a vocation to motherhood. What Mary embraced in following God’s will was not temporary. In fact, it is eternal. My mother will always be my mother. Your mother will always be your mother. Jesus’s mother will always be His mother.
Wouldn’t it be such an honor, a blessing, to be the mother of Jesus? Of course. However, her motherhood alone is not what makes Mary blessed. Luke 11:27-28 reads, “A woman in the crowd raised her voice and said to [Jesus], ‘Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts that you sucked!’ But he said, ‘Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!’” Mary’s hearing of the word of God, through the Angel Gabriel, and keeping it is what makes her blessed.[3]
Mary’s fiat teaches us that our discipleship to Jesus is not temporary. It is a complete embrace of God’s will, an embrace that lasts for eternity. Like Mary’s fiat, our own fiat to God should not be dictated by any voice other than God’s and His messengers. In the words of St. Peter, “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29).
At the foot of the cross, Mary fully experienced what the Prophet Simeon prophesied nearly 33 years earlier: “a sword will pierce through your own soul” (Lk 2:35). The Church’s public worship, that is, the liturgy, has directed the faithful to reflect on Mary at the foot of the cross. The liturgical calendar dedicates a feast day to Our Lady of Sorrows on September 15. In the old liturgical calendar, still in effect wherever the traditional Latin Mass is offered, Our Lady of Sorrows, specifically, the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady, has two feast days a year: the Friday before Palm Sunday and the 3rd Sunday of September. That has been the practice, beginning with local Missals, since the 15th century. [4] The Stabat Mater, a hymn about the Sorrowful Mother, has been given beautiful musical scores from many classical composers. The hymn is also traditionally sung during the Stations of the Cross. The famous Pieta of Michelangelo, residing in none other than St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican, attempts to depict this overwhelming emotional event in the Gospel.
Why this interest in Mary at the foot of the cross? It shows us what perseverance in Christian discipleship looks like. Mary’s fiat is constant, even at the foot of the cross. A mother never dreams of witnessing her son’s brutal murder. Yet, Mary shows us that even in this unbearable moment, she must remain with her Son. So in our own unbearable moments in being a Christian disciple amidst the storms of this life, we must remain with Mary’s Son. Meanwhile, in the midst of these unbearable moments, we must have hope in the resurrection.
While the Gospel of John records Mary Magdalene as the first witness of Jesus’s resurrection, tradition holds that Mary, as the mother of Jesus, was the first to see the resurrected Christ. First or not, it is reasonable that Jesus, at some point, visited the one who had remained with Him throughout His earthly life. What did that first meeting of Jesus with His mother look like?
The last memory Mary had of Jesus was His cruel crucifixion: she saw her innocent Son undergo an execution reserved for criminals. Before being laid in the tomb, we can imagine Mary asking to hold her Son, like the pieta. His moist blood clinged onto her own garments. She could feel her Son’s cold, lifeless body, as she caressed the man she bore in her womb for nine months. Other cherished memories came to mind, for Scripture records – twice – that “Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart” (Lk 2:19).[5]
Then came the first Easter. When pondering in her heart the last 33 years with her Son – including His “hidden years” and even His promises of resurrection – there He was. No longer drench in His own blood, Jesus’s clothing was radiant with light. Obliged as a son, Jesus wiped Mary’s tears, and she could feel His hands not cold as when she last felt Him but warm again. The sound of Jesus’s voice: no longer the cry of agony but an invitation to hope and peace.
As vivid as these images are, Mary, here, gives us an example of contemplative prayer. Again, “Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart.” The content of our prayer, like the content of Mary’s prayer, ought to be the life of her Son, Jesus. And that is the secret of the rosary, a treasured form of prayer recommended by the Church and her saints for centuries. The rosary is not the vain repetition of “Hail Marys.” It is essentially the pondering of Christ’s life – called “mysteries” – in our hearts with the one who has best pondered the mysteries of Christ’s life, Mary.
In this talk, we reflected on three events of Mary’s life that show her a “Star of the Sea” as we journey on our pilgrimage in the ship of the Church. I now want to conclude with three questions in light of our reflection: (1) What does it mean to give my life completely to the Blessed Trinity? (2) What does it mean to persevere and trust? (3) What does it mean to pray?

O God,
who chose the Mother of your Son to be our Mother also,
grant us that, persevering in penance and prayer for the salvation of the world,
we may further more effectively each day the reign of Christ.
Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.[6]

(Originally given as a talk to a Catholic singles group on May 13, 2015.)


[1] Cf. Apostolic Constitutions (c. 367).
[2] The Papal Basilica of St. Mary Major was commission by Pope Sixtus III after the Council of Ephesus (431).
[3] See also Lk 1:45.
[4] Phyllis D. Carpenter, “A History of the Stabat Mater and an Analysis of the Stabat Mater by Giovanni B. Pergolesi” (master’s thesis, University of Rochester, 1948), 4, accessed May 12, 2015, http://hdl.handle.net/1802/4558.
[5] Lk 2:51.
[6] Collect of the Optional Memorial of Our Lady of Fatima (May 13), Roman Missal, Third Edition.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Wisdom from the Saints: The Sermons of the Curé of Ars (11th Sunday after Pentecost)

There are some who, through envy [...] belittle and slander others, especially those in the same business or profession as their own, in order to draw business to themselves. [...]
A great many people slander others because of pride. They think that by depreciating others they will increase their own worth. They want to make the most of their own alleged good qualities. Everything they say and do will be good, and everything that others say and do will be wrong.
But the bulk of malicious talk is done by people who are simply irresponsible, who have an itch to chatter about others without feeling any need to discover whether what they are saying is true or false. They just have to talk. [...]
Yes, my dear brethren, one scandelmonger poisons all the virtues and engenders all the vices. It is from that malicious tongue that a stain is spread so many times through a whole family, a stain which passes from fathers to children, from one generation to the next, and which perhaps is never effaced. The malicious tongue will follow the dead into the grave. [...]
[W]here is your charity?
Excerpts from this sermon was taken from Una Morrissy, trans. The Sermons of the Curé of Ars (Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, 1995), 29-31.

Monday, August 3, 2015

The Fate of Planned Parenthood: What Did You Expect?

Two headlines:

(1) "De-funded: Federal money will no longer aid Planned Parenthood"

(2) "Vetoed: Efforts to de-fund Planned Parenthood fail"

Which is more likely? For an organization that (literally) gets away with murder, was the revelation that it sells body parts of aborted babies going to push lawmakers to de-fund Planned Parenthood? No.

In a sane world, not only federal de-funding but also arrests and fines should be made against Planned Parenthood for selling body parts. However, in our world, Planned Parenthood is free to go on with business as usual.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Wisdom from the Saints: The Sermons of the Curé of Ars (10th Sunday after Pentecost)

Among the many great saints we find in the Catholic liturgical calendar this month is St. John Marie Vianney, the Curé of Ars.[1] To honor this great saint and preacher, we will begin posting short excerpts from his sermons according to the Sunday or liturgical feast we are celebrating. Since the "lectionary" used by the Curé of Ars follows that of what we now call the "extraordinary form" (i.e., the traditional Roman liturgy), the sermons posted will correspond to the traditional liturgical calendar.
Tomorrow (August 2nd) is the 10th Sunday after Pentecost. Therefore, below is an excerpt from one of St. John Vianney's sermons given on the 10th Sunday after Pentecost, referencing that day's gospel reading (Lk 18:9-14).
"I am not like the others!" [Lk 18:11] That, my dear brethren, is the usual tone of false virtue and the attitude of those proud people who, always quite satisfied with themselves, are at all times ready to censure and to criticize the conduct of others. [...] From this I conclude that pride is the source of all the vices and the cause of all the evils which have occurred, and which are still to come, in the course of the centuries. [...]
People take pride in their animals and in their households. They take pride in knowing how to go to Confession properly, in saying their prayers, in behaving modestly and decorously in the church. [...]
And I will add this to what I have just said. This sin is even more to be feared in people who put on a good show of piety and religion.
Excerpts from this sermon was taken from Una Morrissy, trans. The Sermons of the Curé of Ars (Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, 1995), 25-29.






[1] St. John Vianney's feast day is August 4th, which is also the day of his death (or, as a saint, his passing to eternal life). It was previously August 8th, as the 4th was occupied by St. Dominic's feast day. However, with the reform of the liturgical calendar, the two feast days were switched (see http://www.newliturgicalmovement.org/2014/08/liturgical-notes-on-feast-of-saint.html#.VbWAX_lViko).

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

A Tale of Two Calendars

As I began studying and practicing many of the traditions of the Church over the past few years, it came to my surprise that not only does the Latin Rite of the Catholic Church have two liturgical calendars, but one calendar is superior to the other.

What Liturgical Year is it?

 After the Second Vatican Council an effort was made to modify the liturgical calendar in order to introduce more scripture into the Mass. The Mass up to that point consisted of a one year cycle of readings with a reading from an epistle and the gospel along with John 1:1-14 at the end of every Mass. Introduced in 1969, the new calendar consisted of a three year cycle of readings for Sundays and a two year cycle of readings for weekdays. Adding more scripture reading to the Mass is a noble cause and this is not why I consider the old calendar of the Traditional Latin Mass to be superior to the Ordinary Form of the Mass, but I do think it is a bit confusing. I am willing to bet that most people are not aware of what liturgical year it is. For those that are curious, we are currently in Year B1 (I had to look it up).

Where did all the Seasons go?

While I see the benefit of modifying the liturgical calendar to include more scripture readings, I do not understand the need to modify the seasons within the liturgical year. Within the Ordinary Form calendar there are six (or seven) liturgical seasons: Advent, Christmas, Ordinary Time, Lent, Triduum, Easter, and Ordinary Time again. Within the Extraordinary Form calendar there are eight liturgical seasons: Advent, Christmas, Time after Epiphany, Septuagesima, Lent, Triduum, Easter, and Time after Pentecost. On the surface level the only changes seem to be the removal of Septuagesima and the changing the names of Time after Epiphany and Time after Pentecost to Ordinary time.

 Even at this surface level both of these changes negatively affect the liturgical calendar. Septuagesima (or pre-Lent) is a penitential time that starts about seventy days before Easter. These three weeks before the start of Lent are meant to prepare us to enter more deeply into the season of Lent. There seems to be no good reason to remove the season of Septuagesima from the liturgical calendar. With regards to the name change to Ordinary Time, Ordinary Time makes the seasons after Christmas and Easter seem like they are mundane and ordinary.  The problem is that there is no ordinary time after the Incarnation! Every moment of the life of Christ presented to us within the liturgical year is anything but ordinary! Having these seasons named Time after Epiphany and Time after Pentecost give these seasons a point of reference and reflection. The names of these two seasons allow us to recall back to the mysteries of the Epiphany and Pentecost and continue to reflect on them throughout the year.

Besides the name changes and removal of a season, the seasons themselves have lost some of the richness that they have within the old calendar. The season of Christmas for example has been reduced from forty days (ending on the Feast of Presentation of the Lord on February 2nd) to twelve days (ending on the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6th) and the Octave of Pentecost is no longer celebrated. Moreover Ember days and Rogation days have been completely removed!

What does the Second Vatican Council Say?

As I read the Second Vatican Council's Constitution of the Sacred Liturgy in preparation for this blog post, could not find anything within the document that would lend itself to justify such drastic changes to the liturgical calendar. Moreover I found the document stating that the traditional customs and discipline of the sacred seasons were meant to be preserved or restored! I do not see how the removal and reduction of seasons preserves or restores the traditional customs and discipline of the sacred seasons. For those reasons I consider the calendar for the Extraordinary Form of the Mass to be superior to the calendar for the Ordinary Form of the Mass.


The liturgical year is to be revised so that the traditional customs and discipline of the sacred seasons shall be preserved or restored to suit the conditions of modern times; their specific character is to be retained, so that they duly nourish the piety of the faithful who celebrate the mysteries of Christian redemption, and above all the paschal mystery. If certain adaptations are considered necessary on account of local conditions, they are to be made in accordance with the provisions of Art. 39 and 40. (Sacrosanctum Concilium 107) 

Reflection on Luke 10:38-42 for the Feast Day of St. Martha, Virgin

Jesus’s encounter with Martha and Mary seems to be a private visit. The plural ‘they’ is used in the beginning of this passage from Luke’s gospel to indicate that Jesus was travelling with a group, namely, His disciples. However, the singular ‘he’ is used when Jesus enters the village of Bethany where Martha and Mary reside. It seems as though Jesus was taking advantage of His trip through Bethany by visiting His close friends Martha and Mary, just as we may visit close friends along the way of a long journey.
So how did this so-called “private visit” become “public record” for centuries of Christians to hear and read as a basis for their own reflection and assimilation? Ultimately, we must say that this is the work of the Holy Spirit. On the practical level (through the guidance of the Holy Spirit), we can suspect that either Martha or Mary (or both) shared their experience with the newly formed Christian community, and it was believed to contain a universal lesson from which all Christians can learn. In other words, this passage from Luke’s gospel is not just information about Jesus with Martha and Mary left for historical consideration; rather, it contains formation for all Christians in the very essence of discipleship. So what does this gospel passage teach not only Martha but all of us as Christ’s disciples?
To recount the story, Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his [Jesus’s] teaching” (Lk 10:39), whereas Martha “was distracted with much serving” (Lk 10:40). From Martha’s perspective, however, it was Mary who was distracted, and her reaction was quite audacious: for Martha questions whether the Lord even cares if she’s serving alone and then commands the Lord to have Mary help her if He really does care. Instead of acceding to Martha terms, Jesus corrects Martha’s perspective: amidst the many duties in life, “one thing is necessary” (Lk 10:42). Thus, Mary has “chosen the better part” (Lk 10:42), which will endure.
We now return to our question: what does this gospel passage teach not only Martha but all of us who wish to be strengthened in our relationship with the Lord? The answer to this question can take several paths. For one, St. Augustine says that Martha was busy preparing a meal for the Lord. He then contrasts Martha with Mary: “Mary was feasting” (Sermon 103) as she sat at the Lord’s feet, listening to His teaching. Complementing the gospel theme that Jesus nourishes us, the hunger of Mary’s soul was being satisfied.
To be sure, the gospel passage does not specify what Martha was busy doing, whether it was preparing a meal or doing something else. What we do know is that Martha was busy “with much serving” (Lk 10:40). In the Latin, it reads, frequens ministerium. Ministerium, meaning ‘service’, is where we get the English word ‘ministry.’ This is not to suggest that Martha was busy doing parish ministry as we now conceive it. Nevertheless, performing the ministry, or service, of the Lord – in whatever form – can become a distraction. Yes, good things can become a distractions from the “one thing necessary,” especially when it becomes a source of self-pity, which occurs when our work is not grounded in the Lord through prayer. The universal character of the story is that we are tempted like Martha, being distracted by good works from what must be the motivation and purpose of our work: Jesus Christ. Hence comes the universal lesson: we must choose the better part and find ourselves not only busy serving but busy sitting at the Lord’s feet, busy listening to His teachings.
How do we sit at the Lord’s feet today? Where is His presence, so that we might sit there? We sit at the Lord’s feet today when we visit Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. Although we might have a lot to say, we must not forget that, like Mary, we must also listen. When we do not have the occasion to visit Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament and rest in His presence sacramentally, we can always pause and recall His presence in us and in the world, knowing that Jesus is always with us (cf. Mt 28:20).

In taking seriously this lesson to frequently be in the Lord’s presence each day amidst our busy schedule, let us remember that Martha had to learn and overcome this struggle. After all, the Church recognizes her as a saint. If we persevere, we can become a saint, too.