Wednesday Liturgy: Participation in Protestant Events

ROME, NOV. 27, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: Is it correct for a priest to take part in a Protestant funeral by doing a reading and being up with the minister? Further, is it correct for a lay Catholic to do readings at a Protestant marriage or baptism? -- K.C., Melbourne, Australia

A: The essential lines of a response to this question are outlined in the Ecumenical Directory published by the Holy See. Referring to non-sacramental Protestant worship, such as funerals, it says:

"117. In some situations, the official prayer of a Church may be preferred to ecumenical services specially prepared for the occasion. Participation in such celebrations as Morning or Evening Prayer, special vigils, etc., will enable people of different liturgical traditions -- Catholic, Eastern, Anglican and Protestant -- to understand each other's community prayer better and to share more deeply in traditions which often have developed from common roots.

"118. In liturgical celebrations taking place in other Churches and ecclesial Communities, Catholics are encouraged to take part in the psalms, responses, hymns and common actions of the Church in which they are guests. If invited by their hosts, they may read a lesson or preach.

"119. Regarding assistance at liturgical worship of this type, there should be a meticulous regard for the sensibilities of the clergy and people of all the Christian Communities concerned, as well as for local customs which may vary according to time, place, persons and circumstances. Catholic clergy invited to be present at a celebration of another Church or ecclesial Community may wear the appropriate dress or insignia of their ecclesiastical office, if it is agreeable to their hosts."

While there is no specific mention of a priest or other Catholic assisting at Protestant baptisms and weddings, the document gives the following general norm for Catholic participation in Protestant sacramental worship:

"135. For the reading of Scripture and preaching during other than Eucharistic celebrations, the norms given above (n. 118) are to be applied." Catholics may also serve as witnesses at other Christian weddings as may Protestants at Catholic ones (Directory, No. 136).

The case of a priest assisting at a mixed marriage in an official capacity is more complex and is often subject to special laws emanated by each bishops' conference. These laws adapt the general indications given in canon law and the Ecumenical Directory to a particular country.

Therefore we may conclude that a Catholic priest or layperson may participate as a guest at a Protestant funeral, wedding or baptism for any justified reason. This is especially likely to happen in countries where many churches and ecclesial communities are present beside the Catholic Church.

If invited, a Catholic priest may read a lesson, preach and may also impart to Protestants any appropriate blessings from the Catholic Book of Blessings (Directory, No. 121).

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Using the Chalice Pall

ROME, NOV. 27, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Pursuant to our observations on the use of the chalice pall (Nov. 13), a reader commented: "How you respond to liturgical inquiries might be enhanced by your becoming more familiar with versions of the Missale Romanum from 1962 and before. Although there are no current rubrics for the use of the pall, questions about proper use could be more adequately examined according to historical usage rather than 'common practice' or one's own 'common sense.'

"I think your questioner below was looking for something more 'authoritative,' shall we say. In the Missale Romanum of 1962, the pall is not removed during the epiclesis, but only when the time came for the consecration of the wine. Further, after the consecration, every time the pall is removed there is a genuflection, and every time it is replaced, there is a genuflection. It would seem that history might provide us some guidance here."

Our correspondent is, of course, correct in saying that reference to practice before the current reform can be most useful in interpreting some current doubts. And I have often been enlightened by reference to liturgical texts and manuals from that period.

These texts have also recovered much of their actuality, now that the possibility of celebrating Mass according to the 1962 missal has been universally extended.

Our reader's observations, however, also show the difficulty involved in deciding if a rubric from the 1962 Roman rite may be applied "tout court" to the present celebration or if it is no more than a useful rule of thumb.

Thus, for example, the rule that there is a genuflection every time that the pall is removed or replaced, certainly does not apply to the present form of Mass. The present form clearly specifies the genuflections to be made during Mass.

Since the use of the pall is no longer obligatory, the earlier norms are not legally binding for when the pall happens to be used for the present rite. The earlier norms, however, can indicate the maximum possible use of removing the pall only for the consecration of the wine.

Therefore, even though the earlier norms can be a useful guide we must necessarily have recourse to other criteria such as custom and common sense in interpreting their use for the present rite.

Indeed, many liturgical rubrics originated as custom and common sense and only gradually became fixed as precise and exact norms.

Gospel Commentary for Last Sunday in Ordinary Time: Jesus Christ, King of the Universe and of Hearts

Father Raniero Cantalamessa is the Pontifical Household preacher. The readings for this Sunday are 2 Samuel 5:1-3; Colossians 1:12-20; Luke 23:35-43.

ROME, NOV. 23, 2007 (Zenit.org).- The solemnity of Christ the King was instituted only recently. It was instituted by Pope Pius XI in 1925 in response to the atheist and totalitarian political regimes that denied the rights of God and the Church. The climate in which the feast was born was, for example, that of the Mexican revolution, when many Christians went to their deaths crying out to their last breath, "Long live Christ the King!"

But if the feast is recent, its content and its central idea are not; they are quite ancient and we can say that they were born with Christianity. The phrase "Christ reigns" has its equivalent in the profession of faith: "Jesus is Lord," which occupies a central place in the preaching of the apostles.

Sunday's Gospel passage narrates the death of Christ, because it is at that moment that Christ begins to rule over the world. The cross is Christ's throne. "Above him there was an inscription that read, 'This is the King of the Jews.'" That which in the intention of his enemies was the justification of his condemnation, was, in the eyes of the heavenly Father, the proclamation of his universal sovereignty.

To see what this feast has to do with us, we need only recall to our minds a very simple distinction. There are two universes, two worlds or cosmoses: the "macrocosm," which is the whole universe external to us, and the "microcosm," or the little universe, which is each individual man. The liturgy itself, in the reform that followed Vatican II, felt the need to accent the human and spiritual aspect of the feast over the, so to speak, political aspect of the feast. The prayer of the feast no longer asks, as it once did, "that all the families of nations, now kept apart by the wound of sin, may be brought under the sweet yoke of [Christ's] rule" but that "every creature, freed from the slavery of sin, serve and praise [Christ] forever." Let us consider again the inscription placed above Christ: "This is the King of the Jews." The onlookers challenged him to manifest his royalty openly and many, even among his friends, expected a spectacular demonstration of his kingship. But he choseonly to show his kingship in his solicitousness for one man, who was, in fact, a criminal: "'Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.' He replied to him, 'Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.'"

From this point of view, the most important question to ask on the feast of Christ the King is not whether he reigns in the world but whether he reigns in me; it is not whether his kingship is recognized by states and governments, but whether it is recognized and lived in me.

Is Christ the King and Lord of my life? Who rules in me, who determines the goals and establishes priorities: Christ or someone else? According to St. Paul, there are two ways to live: either for ourselves or for the Lord (Romans 14:7-9). Living "for ourselves" means living like someone who takes himself to be the beginning and the end; it is a life closed in on itself, drawn only by its own satisfaction and glory, without any perspective of eternity. Living "for the Lord," on the contrary, means living for the Lord, that is, with a view to him, for his glory, for his kingdom.

What we have here is truly a new existence, in the face of which, death itself has lost its definitiveness. The greatest contradiction that man has always experienced -- that between life and death -- has been overcome. The contradiction is no longer between "living" and "dying" but between living "for ourselves" and living "for the Lord."

[Translation by ZENIT]

Interview With President of Pontifical Communications Council: Archbishop Celli on Digital Evangelization

VATICAN CITY, NOV. 21, 2007 (Zenit.org).- The digital age is a blessing and a challenge for those interested in preaching the Gospel, according to the new president of the Pontifical Council of Social Communications.


Archbishop Claudio Celli, 66, appointed to lead the council last June, said this to ZENIT in an interview on the prelate's participation in the 10th meeting of the Red Informática de la Iglesia en América Latina [Information Network of the Church in Latin America]. The September meeting, held in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, was his first trip abroad as president of the council.

Archbishop Celli comments on the continental meeting of media professionals in Latin America, and on the challenges of evangelizing a digital culture.

Q: Your first mission was to preside over the continental meeting of Latin American Catholic journalists. What was your experience?

Archbishop Celli: For me it was a very positive experience. I am especially bound to Honduras. My first post with the Holy See was related to Honduras. Beginning in 1970, I was a secretary of the apostolic nunciature. Now, providence desired that my first mission as president of the council would be in Honduras, for a Latin American meeting. It was the 10th meeting of the Red Informática de la Iglesia en América Latina [Information Network of the Church in Latin America]. I left very happy with the experience.

I saw an impressive technical competence, but above all, a deep sense of Church. That is to say, I seemed to discover in all the addresses the consciousness of being members of the Church and working in the Church and with the Church, for the good of the people who walk in those lands. And for me this has been positive.

Q: What is the main challenge for the Church in our current digital era?

Archbishop Celli: It is something very strange. The means of social communication are a challenge, because we're no longer dealing with having or not having means of communication. We already live in a digital culture, in the context of a digital culture. In his book, Cardinal Carlo Martini helps us realize that the digital reality is the daily air we breathe.

Therefore, on the one hand, it is a challenge, because it presents us with a reality we have to understand and serve, that we have to love. And, therefore, we have to be present -- the Red Informática de la Iglesia en América Latina [RIIAL] is a response to the problem. That's why in Honduras, I spoke about the "diaconía" of the digital culture.

Q: Is this digital culture new mission territory?

Archbishop Celli: The continental meeting I attended was the first after the 5th general conference of the bishops of Latin America in Aparecida, and the document of Aparecida asked all disciples of Jesus Christ to be missionaries. I translated this missionary dimension with the expression "'diaconía' of the digital culture," which emphasizes the attitude of service. This is the challenge.

It's a challenge we have to confront at the places where man lives in this context. At the same time, the means of social communication are a great opportunity to find help in spreading the Gospel. There is a statement from Pius XII, in which the Pope refers to the means of communication of his time, defining them as "a gift of God." Imagine if he lived today. It is undeniable that these means place many possibilities at the disposal of one who wants to be a missionary.

Therefore, we see they are a gift, a fantastic opportunity, and at the same time a challenge. This is the fact at the base of our problems. In Latin America, I am content because there already exists a living, working reality that does not cover only this or that country. Those present came from countries ranging from Mexico to Brazil. Certainly this is not the case in other continents. But I confess that while I was in Latin America and observed this richness and potential, it made me ask myself about Africa, for example.

Basically, I would like to look to the future. I think the council should dedicate much attention to Africa. Because it is a continent lagging behind. It is true that there are various Africas, because South Africa is one thing and the other countries, where there are serious problems, are another. But there is a difficulty: While the RIIAL in Latin America can act easily, and can carry out its service, because they use two languages -- only Brazil speaks Portuguese -- Africa has three major languages, we can call them international languages -- French, English and Portuguese -- but then there are numerous other languages, and this is undeniably a difficulty for the development of certain services.

Pope John Paul II was very farsighted in defining the title of RIIAL: He spoke of the Information Network of the Church in Latin America as a way of indicating that one day this same information network of the Church ought to be present in other countries. And we are already thinking about this. Therefore, I look with great hope to what we are doing right now in Latin America.

I very much appreciate how RIIAL works in close collaboration with the Pontifical Council for Social Communications and the Latin American episcopate. The president of the committee for the means of communication of the Latin American episcopal council was there, and, in this week of working together, we reached a deep mutual understanding. I think that this understanding will be useful for new possibilities of work. We are only beginning, and such a deep understanding between the two organizations is truly a precursor of abundant future fruits.

Q: Today there is a new challenge for social justice: the marginalization of those without access to new technology. In your discussion in Honduras, you spoke about "info-poverty." Could you comment on this?

Archbishop Celli: It is a reality. The illiteracy of before, which is a tragic consequence of socioeconomic poverty, today shows itself as well with the face of "info-poverty." The council cannot solve everything. But what the council can do together with the Church in Latin America -- and there are RIIAL projects in this regard -- is find contributions to overcome the new barriers arising. Because the more we keep a great number of people isolated, the poorer the world will be. Tomorrow, these people, having been adequately helped and educated in using means of communication, will be able to enrich humanity's path.

Q: What are the future projects for the council?

Archbishop Celli: At present we are still thinking on the short term, that is, in the first six months of next year, among other reasons, because we just have moved offices to Vía de la Conciliación 5, in Rome.

In these months I have spoken with many people. The encounter in Honduras was valuable in this sense; but also here in Rome, I have had the opportunity of meeting with representatives of the episcopates and people committed to these problems. And it seemed important to have a meeting with the faculties of social communication of the Roman ecclesiastical universities. [] We decided to see each other regularly, because on one level I think the pontifical council needs to be accompanied and assisted by a deep academic reflection, since the council desires to work in service, in this "diaconía" of the culture.

I can announce that after Easter, we will try to organize a world congress of the faculties of social communication of Catholic universities, spread throughout the world, because we have to rediscover the meaning of this presence. There are certainties, there are positive achievements, but I think one of the biggest challenges we have to face together is looking at the future, and seeing how the academic world, especially that with a Catholic inspiration, is able to contribute positively. Therefore I think that, after Easter, before summer, we will organize this congress; we are already working on it, consulting those who are already on the playing field.

The second theme, which seems very important to me, is a broad reflection on the theology of communication. Let's speak about this. In Honduras, a suggestion arose of using new technology so that there would be a unified investigation into the proper use of the social means of communication. Therefore, right now we are studying how to do this, but certainly this will be an in-depth subject.

The third theme, on another front, that we will address before summer would be an encounter, always at the international level, with Catholic radio stations of the world -- radio that, as the bishops I met during this period have told me, is offering a great service. But here, also, there is the need of a rediscovery.

Next year, the Synod of Bishops will consider the great subject of the word of God in the life of the Church. And the question we have to ask is how our means of social communication can be put at the service of the Church so this word reaches the largest number of people and can bear fruit. Probably, therefore, we could organize an international meeting of the Catholic radio stations scattered throughout the world.

Another great worry I have that we should explore little by little is the attention to those who walk alone in life, at times with a deep nostalgia for God. I think that our means of social communication, such as magazines, newspapers, radio and television -- in this time of relativism, uncertainty, doubts, but at times of great nostalgia -- can be a help along the way, to be close to those who travel the path of life, and who still struggle to understand it, to know it.

These are in a certain sense the ideas we have at the present time. After, we will update them little by little while we move forward.

Wednesday Liturgy: Gospel Acclamation, Before and After

ROME, NOV. 20, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: Is it appropriate to sing the "Gospel Acclamation" before and after the reading of the Gospel? -- A.B., Scarborough, Ontario

A: The general practice regarding the Gospel acclamation is described in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal:

"62. After the reading that immediately precedes the Gospel, the Alleluia or another chant indicated by the rubrics is sung, as required by the liturgical season. An acclamation of this kind constitutes a rite or act in itself, by which the assembly of the faithful welcomes and greets the Lord who is about to speak to them in the Gospel and professes their faith by means of the chant. It is sung by all while standing and is led by the choir or a cantor, being repeated if this is appropriate. The verse, however, is sung either by the choir or by the cantor.

"a. The Alleluia is sung in every season other than Lent. The verses are taken from the Lectionary or the Graduale.

"b. During Lent, in place of the Alleluia, the verse before the Gospel is sung, as indicated in the Lectionary. It is also permissible to sing another psalm or tract, as found in the Graduale.

"63. When there is only one reading before the Gospel,

"a. During a season when the Alleluia is to be said, either the Alleluia Psalm or the responsorial Psalm followed by the Alleluia with its verse may be used;

"b. During the season when the Alleluia is not to be said, either the psalm and the verse before the Gospel or the psalm alone may be used;

"c. The Alleluia or verse before the Gospel may be omitted if they are not sung."

There is no mention of the repetition of the acclamation after the Gospel for ordinary Masses in which the Gospel is immediately followed by the homily, prayer of the faithful or procession of the gifts.

When a bishop celebrates, however, the Book of the Gospels is sometimes brought to him after being read, as indicated in GIRM, No, 175: "When the deacon is assisting the Bishop, he carries the book to him to be kissed, or else kisses it himself, saying quietly, 'Per evangelica dicta' (May the words of the gospel). In more solemn celebrations, as the occasion suggests, a Bishop may impart a blessing to the people with the Book of the Gospels."

The brief procession carrying the Book of the Gospels from the ambo to the bishop's cathedra would be the only likely situation in which the Gospel acclamation would be repeated.

There is no official document or rubric in the universal books that specifically suggests this repetition, and certainly nothing that would require it. But there is some precedence from papal Masses on special occasions.

For example, when Pope John Paul II celebrated the vigil Mass of Pentecost that concluded Rome's diocesan Synod in 1993, the alleluia was repeated while the Book of the Gospels was brought to him. The alleluia was also repeated after the Gospel on the occasion of Benedict XVI's solemn inaugural Mass. It is also repeated on a more regular basis for some Masses such as Corpus Christi.

Sometimes, rather than repeating the alleluia, another antiphon is sung after the Gospel. When John Paul II celebrated 25 years as Pope in 2003 the choir sang a polyphonic Latin antiphon. An acclamation was sung in Greek when Benedict XVI celebrated the Mass concluding the 2005 Synod of Bishops; the Eucharistic celebration also coincided with the canonization of four saints.

Therefore we can conclude that while repeating the Gospel acclamation or singing some other acclamation after the Gospel should not be considered a regular practice, it may be done on more solemn occasions, such as at a Mass celebrated by a bishop to accompany the procession with the Book of the Gospels.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Readings on a Feast of the Lord

ROME, NOV. 20, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

With regard to the number of liturgical readings on a feast day (see Nov. 6) some readers asked about All Souls' Day, Nov. 2.

This celebration is a class of its own. It is not a feast as such, since it intercedes for, rather than celebrates, the faithful departed. The Mass has liturgical precedence over Sunday. But unlike a solemnity or feast of the Lord, this precedence does not extend to the Liturgy of the Hours. Whenever the commemoration falls on a Sunday, the Glory and Creed are omitted.

All Souls' Day has three readings even when it falls on a weekday. Some lectionaries provide only one set of readings, indicating that the readings for the other two Masses that a priest may celebrate that day are to taken from the ritual for funeral Masses. Other lectionaries, such as the Italian, helpfully offer three possible schemes of readings, each one with three readings.

In my earlier reply I had mentioned that the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica was considered a feast of the Lord. Several readers replied that the dedication of any church is a feast of the Lord, arguing that the preface of the dedication of a church is placed before the prefaces of Our Lady.

I beg to differ on this point. I do not believe that the location of these prefaces, and the similar fact that the common of a dedication of a church is located before the common of Our Lady in both missal and breviary, necessarily means that it becomes a feast of the Lord. Rather, the dedication of a church is a particular class of celebration.

In the universal calendar, only the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica is classed as a feast. The celebrations of the dedication of the other Roman basilicas are classed as optional memorials.

In all other cases, the anniversary of the dedication of a church is considered as a proper solemnity within the church in question. As such, it has precedence over Sundays of ordinary time and even over feasts of the Lord, but not over other solemnities found in the general calendar.

The anniversary of the dedication of a cathedral is a solemnity in the cathedral itself, but is usually celebrated as a feast in the other churches of the diocese.

One reader asked about the annual calendar provided by the Web site of the U.S. bishops' conference. The reader stated that it "explicitly specifies that two readings are to be used for feasts of the Lord on weekdays. Are the U.S. bishops following some norm you overlooked, or are they in error? What is the appropriate liturgical document to resolve this question?"

I think that the calendar in question, which is a base text used as a resource for the formation of diocesan or regional versions rather than an exhaustive repository of all the norms, merely indicates the biblical references of the three readings found in the lectionary. The calendar does not explicitly address the question of whether all three are to be used.

However, because of its widespread use I do think that it would be wise to add to this calendar a note similar to the one found in the guidelines used in Rome. When a feast of the Lord falls on a weekday it simply says: "Prima lettura a scelta," which means that either of the two first readings may be chosen.

Article: Unlocking the Convert's Heart

Unlocking the Convert's Heart

MARCUS GRODI

I was recently asked to give a talk on the biblical defense of Catholicism.

Initially this seemed like an easy task, for the primary reason my Presbyterian heart was turned toward home was because the truthfulness of the Catholic Church was proved to me through the study of Scripture. Books upon books upon tapes upon CD s reiterate the sound biblical footing of our Catholic faith. Regardless, I encountered difficulties as I thought of my perceived audience.

Vincible Foes

First, I remembered that from which I came and the hoards of anti-Catholics who believe there is no biblical defense of Catholicism. They believe the Bible is their book and that if it defends anything, it defends their theological platforms. If this were true, my talk would have been very short and this article over.

But this isn’t true. The Bible is not their book. It exists today first because of the grace of God, but secondarily because of the Catholic bishops, priests, monks, and laity who preserved, protected, copied, and venerated the canon of inspired books we now call the Bible. The entire biblical canon from Genesis to Revelation is a defense of the Catholic Church. From this standpoint, one talk or brief article merely scratches the surface.

Second, I remembered the many people who have been so swayed by the opinions of biblical critics that any biblical defense of the faith is useless, for the Bible to them is at best a collection of myths and fables. Again, this makes for a short presentation.

How does a Catholic use the Word of God to unlock the heart of a friend or family member outside the faith? My approach is what I call "The Verses I Never Saw." This is what sparked my own conversion, as well as those of hundreds of others we have worked with through the Coming Home Network International.

Third, I remembered the many lifelong Catholics who believe a biblical defense of their faith is unnecessary. From birth and baptism they have believed it all, and though they greatly revere the Scriptures, they need no proof. Yet, I know from personal experience where this attitude leads: Thirty percent of my Protestant youth groups and churches were made up of ex-Catholics who could not defend their faith against our biblical onslaught. Eventually they not only became convinced that the Bible defended Protestantism, but that they had been saved from "the whore of Babylon." It is very important, especially in this day of high-tech Internet evangelization, that Catholics rediscover the biblical defense of their faith.

But there was a fourth difficulty. As in sports, there is no one simple defense against all attacks. For example, in football the defense changes with each play to address the changing offense. So with the defense of our faith, the challenges are as varied as Protestantism itself. The verses that might unlock a Presbyterian’s heart are radically different than those that might convince a Baptist or a Lutheran or a Pentecostal or Methodist or a Mormon. You get the idea.

So where does one begin? How does a Catholic use the Word of God to unlock the heart of a friend or family member outside the faith? My approach is what I call "The Verses I Never Saw." This is what sparked my own conversion, as well as those of hundreds of others we have worked with through the Coming Home Network International.

Scripture Says What?

Not unlike any average Evangelical Protestant minister, I loved my Lord Jesus Christ, I was committed to proclaiming and following His truth with abandon, and I believed in sola scriptura — that the Bible was the one inspired, infallible "firm foundation" of my life and faith. I also believed that I knew the Bible very well, from cover to cover, and that it held no surprises that could shatter my Protestant faith.

Then a long-lost seminary classmate introduced me to the first "verse I never saw." Scott Hahn pulled the same trick on me that someone had once pulled on him. He asked me, "What is the pillar and bulwark of your faith?"

Scott Hahn pulled the same trick on me that someone had once pulled on him. He asked me, "What is the pillar and bulwark of your faith?"

My knee-jerk response — as had been his — was, "Why, the Bible, of course!"

"But what does the Bible specifically say is ‘the pillar and bulwark of faith’?"

I was puzzled. I could not remember any place where this specific phrase was found in Scripture.

"Let’s look at 1 Timothy 3:14-15, then," he said. Now, I had studied and taught through 1 Timothy many times and expected no surprises, so I read aloud without hesitation, "I hope to come to you soon, but I am writing these instructions to you so that, if I am delayed, you may know how one ought to behave in the household of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and bulwark of the truth."

For a second, I wondered whether someone had somehow secretly inserted that never-before-noticed text into my Bible! The apostle Paul tells Timothy that the pillar and bulwark of the truth is somehow the Church. I had no mental file folder for this idea. As a Calvinist, I believed that the Church was an invisible fellowship of all true believers, not identifiable with any one institutional communion. How could this invisible, universal hodgepodge of opinions be the "pillar and bulwark" of anything? And could my Presbyterian denomination qualify as this trustworthy foundation for truth? Hardly — nor in my opinion could any other denomination I knew. So, what did Paul mean by "church"? This verse left me weak in the knees, not yet leaning toward Catholicism, but shaken in my confidence in sola scriptura.

Traditions to Contend With

Then I discovered another "verse I never saw": 2 Thessalonians 2:15, "So then, brethren, stand firm and hold to the traditions which you were taught by us, either by word of mouth or by letter."

Oh, I had seen this verse before, but what I had not noticed before was that the traditions — or "teachings," as my Protestant Bible had translated this term — that Paul insisted the Thessalonian believers follow and adhere to were not merely the written documents that would one day make up the New Testament, but also oral traditions.

In fact, as I re-examined all of Paul’s letters, several things became very clear: First, Paul’s normal, preferred way of passing on the faith was through preaching and teaching; second, the only reason we have any letters at all was because he could not get to the people in person; and third, what he taught in his letters presumed upon the knowledge they had already received from him in person — much of which is never recorded in any New Testament document!

Whoa! Jesus abides in His followers and we abide in Him not just through our diligent obedience but through partaking of Him in the Eucharist! Again, as a Presbyterian, I had no mental file folder for this.

Then a third "verse I never saw" raised its ugly head: 2 Timothy 3:14-17, "But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings which are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work."

I was certainly quite aware of this text, for it was upon the second half of this text that I taught and defended sola scripura. Whenever I quoted this text, I would hold up the Bible as the presumed equivalent of what Paul meant by "all Scripture." What I had not previously considered, however (already a bit wobbly from the first two surprise verses), was whether this was an accurate representation of what Paul understood as "Scripture." When he wrote this letter, the New Testament was not even entirely written, let alone collected into a book. The canon of Scripture would not be finalized for another 300-plus years by gatherings of Catholic bishops at the councils of Carthage, Rome, and Hippo. This meant that Paul could only have been referring to the Old Testament! Did I believe that only the Old Testament was "inspired by God and profitable for teaching"? No, of course not. So this verse not only did not teach sola scriptura, but the first half again taught the importance of oral tradition.

The Spirit of Unity

A fourth "verse I never saw" was John 14:26, "But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you." Coupled with John 16:13 — "When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come" — this verse made me painfully aware of a contradiction in my life and ministry.

These verses emphasize how the Holy Spirit will teach the followers of Christ so that they know and remember all that Jesus taught to be true. So what happened? Why was there so much confusion and contradiction between those who love Jesus, who have received the Holy Spirit, and who diligently study His inspired, infallible Bible? What I had not seen in these very familiar verses is that Jesus was not implying that every Christian throughout all time would have this guaranteed knowledge of the truth: He was speaking primarily to His hand-chosen Apostles! They would be the ones to receive this special gift of the Holy Spirit to give them a special infused knowledge and wisdom so that they could initiate and lead the Church in truth. All Christians would receive the Holy Spirit (through Baptism) at differing levels according to the gifting of God (cf. Eph. 4:7, 11–14).

In time, a fifth "verse I never saw" crept up on me: John 17:11, "And now I am no more in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to thee. Holy Father, keep them in thy name, which thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are one."

So where was this unity, especially among faithful Christians who accepted the Bible as the Word of God yet could not agree on what it said? In this prayer, Jesus was praying specifically for His Apostles, upon whom He would build His Church, and Scripture teaches that "the prayer of a righteous man has great power in its effects" (Jas. 5:16). In other words, unity is something that therefore must already exist, but where and how?

"Catholic" Verses?

The sixth "verse I never saw" startled me in a familiar spot. My favorite, most-preached-upon portion of Scripture was the familiar metaphor of the vine and the branches. I especially emphasized to my congregations the truth of John 15:4, "Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me."

Few conversions come about primarily through biblical proof texts and arguments, though these texts can be used by the Holy Spirit. All conversions come about by grace, and so the most important thing we can do to unlock the hearts of potential converts is to pray for them and love them.

For years I had given my interpretation of what it meant to "abide in" Jesus and how He abides in us, but as far as I knew, there was no place where He specifically defines what this meant . . . until a friend drew my attention back to John 6:56, "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him." Whoa! Jesus abides in His followers and we abide in Him not just through our diligent obedience but through partaking of Him in the Eucharist! Again, as a Presbyterian, I had no mental file folder for this.

The seventh "verse I never saw" was another one that I preached on often and assumed I had an adequate response to for any Catholic apologist: Matthew 16:17–19, "And Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.’"

There’s much to discuss here, but in short I had always assumed that pointing to the original Greek undercut any Catholic proof for Petrine authority. The Greek word here for Peter is Petros, which can mean "pebble" whereas the word for rock is petra, which means "large boulder." Like so many other Protestant pastors, I explained that Jesus was obviously not building His Church on this "pebble" called Simon Peter but upon the faith he had been given from God the Father.

But then someone pointed out what was truly obvious: Jesus didn’t speak Greek; He spoke Aramaic, and in both cases He would have used the same word, Kepha: "Thou art Kepha and upon this Kepha I will build my church." The differences in the Greek arose from the translators changing a feminine noun into a masculine name.

Unlocking Our Hearts First

These are only seven of the many "verses I never saw" that opened this convert’s heart to the Catholic Church. Are these verses "silver bullets"? Are they the guaranteed keys to unlock the mind and heart of any non-Catholic friend or relative? No, I’m afraid not. I know many faithful non-Catholics who see these verses and others, who know all the Catholic answers to them, yet are far from ready to come home. Few conversions come about primarily through biblical proof texts and arguments, though these texts can be used by the Holy Spirit. All conversions come about by grace, and so the most important thing we can do to unlock the hearts of potential converts is to pray for them and love them.

So why learn these verses? For this we need to take some advice from the airlines. Whenever we fly, what does the flight attendant tell us to do in the event of a loss of air pressure? Are we to first put the air mask on our children or on ourselves? Ourselves. We cannot adequately help anyone unless we first take care of ourselves. We need to know our faith and why we believe what we do, and we especially need to know the wonderful truths of the Bible so we can pass them on to others. But in all cases, the first heart that always needs to be unlocked by the Bible is our own.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Marcus Grodi. "Unlocking the Convert's Heart: The Bible as a Key to Conversion." Lay Witness (July/August, 2007).

This article is reprinted with permission from Lay Witness magazine.

Lay Witness is a publication of Catholic United for the Faith, Inc., an international lay apostolate founded in 1968 to support, defend, and advance the efforts of the teaching Church.

THE AUTHOR

Marcus Grodi is host of the popular EWTN program The Journey Home and president of the Coming Home Network International, an organization that provides support for Christians from other traditions who are interested in converting to the Catholic Church. He is the author of How Firm a Foundation and Journeys Home. For more information about the Coming Home Network, please visit www.chnetwork.org.

Copyright © 2007 Lay Witness

Article: The Weight of Glory

The Weight of Glory

PETER KREEFT

We all know what the weight of glory is, whether or not we have read Lewis' golden sermon.

We know it from the magic words of the poets;or we know it from the wordless word of great music, work of the Muses, not of man; or we know it from the word spoken by human love, the moment when the world's most prosaic word suddenly becomes the most wonder-full word in the world, the word "we"; or we know it in high liturgy, in the solemn joy of adoration before the astonishing mystery of God-with-us, when we are side by side with Mary, hailed by the angelic annunciation of the heavenly glory, visited from another world, another dimension; or we meet the glory in great art, when a picture becomes no longer an object in this world but a magic window opening up onto another world for us, a hole in our world, as the stars were to the ancient Greeks and as the painting of The Dawn Treader was to the Pevensie children; or we know it in the electrical shock of an absolutely perfect flower, or in the high, clear, crystal glass of a winter night, or in the seagull's haunting, harking call to return to Mother Sea.

For some, the glory is not so much in the far country as in the magic word "home", the fairest place on earth, attained after Ulyssean adventures, Herculean labors, or prodigal wanderings aplenty. All of us will know it flat in the face when we die; we shall be hailed by the Angel of Death with the same lightsome glory with which Mary was hailed by the Angel of Life, because Christ has made Death into life's golden chariot, sent to fetch his Cinderella bride out of the cinders of this fireplace of a world, through a far midnight ride, to his very own castle and bedchamber, where Glory will beget glory upon us forever.

Suppose you reply that you have never felt this "weight of glory". That is too bad, but here are two things that are much worse, two dangerous conclusions you may be tempted to draw from your not feeling the "weight of glory". One: Since I have missed out on this most precious secret, I must be worthless and may as well despair. It is worth much, therefore I am worth little. Two: Since I have never experienced this thing, those who do are foolish dreamers of foolish dreams. I am worth much, therefore it is worth little.

Hide as we may, we are all hailed by the angel. Ah, but we hear the hailing only on the "hailing frequency": that spiritual ear that is buried at the very bottom of our being, buried under the louder shouts and bellows of a hundred hungry, howling animals, the this-worldly desires.

Both conclusions are not only logically fallacious but spiritually destructive. They amount to a sigh and a sneer, despair and pride — the two things we can most profitably exorcise from our lives, especially the sneer, the lowest thing in the world.

But no one is devoid of the invitation to glory. Hide as we may, we are all hailed by the angel. Ah, but we hear the hailing only on the "hailing frequency": that spiritual ear that is buried at the very bottom of our being, buried under the louder shouts and bellows of a hundred hungry, howling animals, the this-worldly desires. So you may never seem to hear the heartbreakingly sweet voice of the nightingale that sings every night in our heart. But it is there whether we hear it or not. Be sure of that. If you are a human being, made in the image of God, then you too are a potential god or goddess, creature of the Creator, glory reflecting Glory, deep calling unto deep. All are weighted by the Glory. But not all feel the weight.

There is no escape from the glory, for the glory is the glory of God, and there is no escape from God. But there is an escape from knowing it, like the dwarfs in The Last Battle. We cannot turn the universe inside out, but we can turn our own minds inside out: we can believe we are mere mortals dreaming the dream of immortality, while in fact we are immortals dreaming the terrible dream of mere mortality. We can dream that we are only dreaming the glory, while in fact we are never so wide awake as when we open our eyes to the glory. We can follow Freud the Fraud and call it all illusion, soporific, and wishful thinking, while in fact it calls us to waken to Ultimate Reality. We can think of it as airy and insubstantial, like the creatures in The Tempest, while in fact it is the "enormous bliss of Eden", bigger than a twenty-billion-light-year universe of a trillion trillion suns and heavier than death. And stronger too.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Kreeft, Peter. “The Weight of Glory.” from Heaven, the Heart's Deepest Longing. (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1989).

THE AUTHOR

Peter Kreeft has written extensively (over 25 books) in the areas of Christian apologetics. Link to all of Peter Kreeft's books here.

Peter Kreeft teaches at Boston College in Boston Massachusetts. He is on the Advisory Board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 1989 Ignatius Press

Article: Philip Pullman and the seduction of children

Philip Pullman and the seduction of children

PETE VERE

Meet Philip Pullman, the man whom English author Peter Hitchens refers to as “the most dangerous author in Britain.”

He writes children’s literature that mocks God and ridicules church. “He is the anti-Lewis,” Hitchens states, referencing C.S. Lewis’s classic Chronicles of Narnia series. He adds that Pullman is “the one the atheists would have been praying for, if atheists prayed.” Yet, unlike most atheists who attack God through stuffy academic treatises that will never be read by the general public, Pullman uses children’s literature to foment rebellion against God.

Pullman’s most popular work is a trilogy named His Dark Materials. The first book is titled The Golden Compass (previously Northern Lights), the second The Subtle Knife and the third The Amber Spyglass. Pullman borrows freely from the imagery of C.S. Lewis. The first book, which is the one that has been adapted to a film starring Nicole Kidman, begins with a 12-year-old girl hiding behind academic robes in a closet. There, she discovers a whole new universe and during her subsequent adventures, she will encounter talking animals, witches and God.

Here ends the parallels to Lewis’s work. In Pullman’s universe, good and evil are reversed. God is the oppressor. Pullman portrays him as an angel created out of dust who lied to the angels that followed him in creation. His lie was that He claimed to be their creator. He got away with it until another angel questioned the lie.

Christians should be offended. Pullman’s plot is a blasphemy worthy of Screwtape himself. All Christians believe that God is not created, but the Creator. What the world now touts as bestselling children’s literature is, Christians believe, the very lie that motivated Lucifer and one-third of the angels to rebel against God.

Yet Satan is sneaky. While Christians debate Harry Potter and the appropriateness of J.K. Rowling’s use of fantasy magic to tell a tale of good versus evil, Pullman’s work has slipped under the radar of most Christians. Parents will find Pullman’s anti-Christian tales on their children’s reading lists, in the classroom and in the children’s section of their local library. Come time for the Christmas holidays, they will also find it on their television sets and in the movie theatres.

Not surprisingly, the Catholic church is the vehicle through which Pullman attacks God. It is with the assistance of the Catholic church that God brings about the totalitarian control of Pullman’s universe. Young children in particular are persecuted by the church. One experiment sees young children kidnapped off the street, shipped to the Arctic, and fastened to a machine that severs them from their souls. While witches remain a deceitful and seductive lot in Pullman’s universe, he portrays them as good. Their assistance is invaluable when it comes time to rescue the children from the church.

Having attacked God and the Catholic church, Pullman also turns his pen against the natural law.

Thus, Pullman’s books are a direct attack upon God and the Christian faith. Pullman has inverted the imagery of C.S. Lewis, of whom Pullman said in a 1998 article in The Guardian: “He didn’t like women in general, or sexuality at all, at least at the stage in his life when he wrote the Narnia books. He was frightened and appalled at the notion of wanting to grow up. Susan, who did want to grow up, and who might have been the most interesting character in the whole cycle if she’d been allowed to, is a Cinderella in a story where the Ugly Sisters win.”

This author has foisted his dark ideas upon unsuspecting children.

Having attacked God and the Catholic church, Pullman also turns his pen against the natural law. His books use something called a daemon to attack gender identity. Everyone in Pullman’s universe has a daemon. It appears to be a cross between a person’s conscience and a person’s soul. It takes the shape of an animal and it has a definite gender.

Pullman portrays people from our world as having an internal daemon. We don’t see our daemon, although we might converse with him or her. Every individual in Pullman’s parallel world has an external daemon. The daemon’s gender is almost always the opposite of that of the human to which the daemon is attached.

Dr. Grumman, a retired military explorer from our world, finds himself trapped in Pullman’s alternate world after his Arctic expedition goes awry. There, he discovers his daemon. “People here cannot conceive of worlds where daemons are a silent voice in the mind and no more,” says Grumman. “Can you imagine my astonishment, in turn, at learning that part of my own nature was female and bird-formed and beautiful?”

This is another attack upon what Christians believe the Bible teaches about God as our creator. All of creation falls within a natural order. God gave every man and woman a human soul, not that of an animal. Moreover, Genesis 1:27 is clear: “God created man in his own image, in the image of God He created him, male and female He created them.”

Thus, God created us male and female. He created us with purpose. He wanted man and woman to come together as one flesh (unless called to the celibate state for his greater glory), then go forth and populate the world. This is the message denied by those who promote abortion, same-sex “marriage” and contraception. In denying one’s intrinsic maleness or femaleness, Pullman shares the same root philosophy as the culture of death.

Considering Pullman’s admitted agenda and clear danger, perhaps the battle over Harry Potter was misplaced. For Philip Pullman is the real enemy when it comes to subverting young people through children’s literature.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Pete Vere. "Philip Pullman and the seduction of children." The Interim (November 2007).

Reprinted with permission of the author, Pete Vere.

The Interim is Canada's pro-life, pro-family newspaper.

THE AUTHOR

Pete Vere is a husband, father, canon lawyer and Catholic journalist. He and his wife Sonya live in Sault Ste. Marie, Canada with their three young children. He is currently a canonical consultant for a number of diocesan tribunals, a sessional professor of canon law with Catholic Distance University, a regular columnist with the Wanderer and a senior reporter with the Interim — Canada's largest pro-life monthly newspaper. His work also appears frequently in This Rock Magazine and The Washington Times. He is the co-author of Suprised by Canon Law: 150 Questions Catholics ask about Canon Law, Surprised by Canon Law 2: More Questions Catholics ask about Canon Law, and More Catholic Than the Pope: An Inside Look at Extreme Traditionalism.

Copyright © 2007 The Interim

Article: A crucial link between Church and State

A crucial link between Church and State

FATHER RAYMOND DE SOUZA

On occasions a genuine superstar is appointed as ambassador, one who lends lustre to the profession of diplomacy.

The appointment of ambassadors can sometimes be a dispiriting affair. There are many exemplary professionals to be sure, but there are also many civil service time-servers, superannuated politicians, ruling-party fundraisers and old friends of the prime minister or president thought better sent overseas. On occasions though, a genuine superstar is appointed, one who lends lustre to the profession of diplomacy. Such was the case on Monday, when U.S. President George W. Bush appointed Professor Mary Ann Glendon of Harvard Law School to be the next U.S. ambassador to the Holy See.

Internationally acclaimed as a brilliant legal scholar, Glendon will receive a warm welcome at the Vatican, where she was part of Pope John Paul II’s cadre of informal advisors. Subsequently, he appointed her president of the Pontifical Academy of Social Sciences, a sort of continuing symposium comprising the world’s leading social scientists (and for which she retained me for some organizational assistance).

Glendon, 69, has devoted her long career to the university world. She is not a diplomat, but has thought long and hard about what should characterize international relations and, in particular, how such relations can and should foster human rights. Her latest book, A World Made New: Eleanor Roosevelt and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, is a study of just that — how the world of diplomacy can achieve a workable consensus on the rights of the person.

The American ambassador to the Holy See occupies a singular position in international relations. Her job is to represent the world’s most powerful state to the papal office, which is not a state at all and operates by standards other than worldly power.

In everyday speech, Glendon will be known as America’s Vatican ambassador. But strictly speaking, the Vatican City State has no international relations, and exists principally to secure the independence of the pope from any civil power. Diplomatic relations exists between sovereign states and the Holy See, which is the diplomatic and legal personality of the pope as he exercises his universal ministry as head of the Catholic Church.

Yet an alternative, and older, way of looking at international relations is that it consists in the deliberation of how nations should order their affairs to foster the common good. In such a conception, diplomacy needs more actors, not fewer, who are animated by ideals, not interests.

This State-Church relationship offends some, even if the Holy See has had established diplomatic relations for longer than any of the current member states of the United Nations have existed. Last summer, The Economist argued that “instead of claiming to practise a form of inter-governmental diplomacy,” the Holy See ought to “renounce its special diplomatic status and call itself what it is — the biggest non-governmental organization in the world.”

The Economist is a distinguished weekly, but has a perennial anti-Catholic itch which it periodically needs to scratch. Nevertheless, its objection bears examination. In its binary division of the world into government and non-government actors, The Economist implicitly says that international relations should be characterized only by power, as exercised by those states strong enough to assert their will in diplomacy. States have interests, and diplomacy is the strategic advancing of those interests. In such a world, the ancient diplomatic activity of the Holy See is considered simply an assertion of Catholic interests and a relic of temporal powers that the Church has long since relinquished.

Yet an alternative, and older, way of looking at international relations is that it consists in the deliberation of how nations should order their affairs to foster the common good. In such a conception, diplomacy needs more actors, not fewer, who are animated by ideals, not interests.

For example, in recent years the American embassy to the Holy See has taken a lead in fighting against human trafficking, or more to the point, slavery in the world of “sex tourism.” No state is in favour of it, but who has a strategic interest in stopping it? On that, and many similar issues, the diplomatic space offered by the Holy See is essential.

In recent years, the position which Prof. Glendon is about to assume has been a very delicate one in view of the Holy See’s opposition to the Iraq War. That too highlights the indispensable role of Vatican diplomacy; without the Holy See’s activity, it is unlikely that the moral dimension of the war would have been so carefully articulated by both the war’s supporters and its opponents.

In the end, all politics — including at the international dimension — is about choosing worthy ends and justifiable means, which is to say that it is a moral activity. The intersection of interests and morality is no where more evident than on the desk of the superpower’s representative to the universal pastor. And there is no more creative person to sit at that desk than Prof. Glendon.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father Raymond J. de Souza, "A crucial link between Church and State." National Post, (Canada) November 8, 2007.

Reprinted with permission of the National Post and Fr. de Souza.

THE AUTHOR

Father Raymond J. de Souza is chaplain to Newman House, the Roman Catholic mission at Queen's University, Kingston, Ontario. Father de Souza's web site is here. Father de Souza is on the advisory board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2007 National Post

Article: Turn Up the Romance

Turn Up the Romance

SCOTT HAHN

I still remember the moment when I "got" Opus Dei.

If Love, even human love, gives so much consolation here,
what will Love not be in heaven? - The Way, no. 428

Up till then, I had admired its fidelity to Christian doctrine, its plan of life, and the kindness and intelligence of its people. But I didn't truly understand what set Opus Dei apart from anything else. As I look back, I see that I had good excuses for my incomprehension. For one, I was new to the Catholic faith. I was also distracted — to the point of anxiety. My new-found faith was placing a strain on my marriage; any time I might have spent studying the spirit of Opus Dei, I was instead spending to prepare my explanations of all the distinctive Catholic beliefs and practices. "Always be prepared," said St. Peter, "to make a defense to anyone who calls you to account" (1 Peter 3:15) . I figured that went double if one's own wife was doing the calling.

Kimberly was (and still is) a very articulate, very well educated, very devout and ardent daughter of a Presbyterian minister. She holds a master's degree from one of the most respected evangelical theological schools in America. She knew what she believed, and she knew why. As an intelligent and informed Calvinist, she knew why she was Protestant. The very stuff of the Protestant Reformation was a protest against certain traditional Catholic doctrines and devotions. Kimberly had very serious objections to Catholicism, at least as she perceived it. She worried that my turning toward Marian devotion was a turning away from Jesus Christ. She worried that my use of sacramentals might be superstitious — and that my invocation of the saints might be idolatrous.

So I did what any rationalist would do in such a situation. I spent hours of every day carefully researching and crafting answers to her objections, constructing arguments out of those answers, and then mentally rehearsing the best ways to present those arguments.

I was genuinely surprised when my strategy didn't seem to work. Kimberly and I would stay up till three debating doctrinal differences and then continue the conversation at breakfast in the morning. Yet the more irrefutable my arguments, the more I seemed to push her away — and not only from the Catholic Church but from me as well. After a while, she refused to read the articles and books I recommended for her reading. She refused to read even a paragraph of a particular article about the Blessed Virgin Mary. I could tell that she was beginning to dread the start of our conversations for fear of where they might end up.

I was frustrated and heartbroken. I turned to a friend of mine, Gil, who happened to be a member of Opus Dei. In painful detail I explained how much I had tried to anticipate Kimberly's concerns and how carefully I had tried to address every one of them.

I saw Gil wince.

"What?" I asked him. "What's wrong?"

He looked at me in the most brotherly way and said, "Why don't you turn down the apologetics and turn up the romance? ”

At first I was skeptical. But then I took the problem to my confessor, an Opus Dei priest, who gave me strikingly similar counsel. The message couldn't be clearer: "Lighten up on the theology, Scott. Go heavy on the affection."

It hardlyseemed right to me. Here I was, a theologian advised to abandon the queen of sciences, the most noble pursuit I knew — all for the sake of what? Candlelight and sweet nothings?

"Turning up the romance" accomplished what endless debate could never force. And that, to me, is Opus Dei.

But now lightning had struck twice in the same place in my heart, and the bolts flashed from two men whom I respected deeply. I would give it a try.

I tried at first to rediscover the common ground of our marriage, to focus on what united us as a couple rather than what divided us. I began to realize how seldom, for example, I had initiated conversations about our children, who were then very small. We began, again, to laugh together and to appreciate the small daily discoveries of young parents.

Eventually, we were able to pray together once again, without contention or provocation.

It was working. Instead of trying to build the perfect argument, I was trying to be a better husband to my wife, a better father to my children, a better son to my parents and my in-laws.

The effect on our marriage was electric. I'll spare you the details. I will only point out that the day arrived when Kimberly began to ask me questions about the Catholic faith. And it wasn't long before she too was asking to be received into full communion with the Church.

"Turning up the romance" accomplished what endless debate could never force.

And that, to me, is Opus Dei.

So much of the spirit of Opus Dei was wrapped up in that simple advice: "Turn up the romance." What was Gil telling me, underneath it all?

He was telling me to respect Kimberly's freedom. (That's Opus Dei.)

He was telling me that grace builds on nature. (That's Opus Dei.)

He was nudging me toward secularity and away from an annoyingly clericalist approach to the problem. (That's Opus Dei.)

And he was emphasizing the importance (and even the sexiness) of ordinary family life. (And that's Opus Dei.)

These are all consequences of the truth at the heart of Opus Dei: divine filiation. What Gil led me to see was that all creation awaited the revelation of God's children and the glori ous freedom of the children of God (see Romans 8: 19-21) — but that God would do the revealing, and in His good time. It was my job to be faithful to my marriage covenant in ways I had too long been neglecting.

When I could bring myself to trust in Kimberly's conversion as God's work, not mine, I could more truly love Kimberly, and in ways that even she could recognize.

Loving Like Jacob

This unexpected success at home caused a ripple effect throughout my life. I found myself applying Gil's principles to my professional labors and prayer. It's not that I started seeking romantic encounters on the job. Rather, I "turned up the romance" in my overall spiritual life.

A biblical illustration might be in order. Consider the story of Jacob, in the Book of Genesis (Genesis 29), One day while traveling, the young man met a woman "beautiful and lovely" named Rachel. He was so smitten that he wept aloud. Soon he approached Rachel's father, Laban, and asked for the privilege of marrying her. So much did he love her that he promised to work in Laban's lands for seven years in order to merit such a wife. "So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her" (v. 20). Jacob would, in fact, labor another seven years that way, because of the trickery of Laban.

Opus Dei taught me to strive after the kind of love that Jacob lived, to keep the sense of adventure in marriage and in everyday life, to remain mindful of the high stakes of ordinary conversations

Notice, however, that Jacob did not toil in bitterness. Nor did he grimly ponder all the places he'd rather be than pushing sheep through the pastures of an untrustworthy man. He worked with joy because his heart was set on the goal: the love of Rachel. He kept a spirit of service because he was serving the only man who could lead him to that goal. In fact, when all was said and done and Jacob had married Rachel, he served Laban for another seven years, out of gratitude!

We all have so much to learn. I am no longer speaking here about domestic bliss. I'm talking about something far greater: our goal of reaching heaven.

For that goal, how much should we be willing to work? Seven years? Fourteen? Twenty-one? Seventy? The longest life-time would not be enough.

And how much joy should brim our hearts when we are working for the love of God? How much love and loyalty should we bear toward the boss and our coworkers?

There is not a hint of tin-can mysticism in Jacob. He doesn't daydream about the delights of a remote retirement. For love's sake, he applies elbow grease, one hour after another hour, and then another hour after yet another, till seven years have passed and it seems to him but a few days.

Opus Dei taught me to strive after the kind of love that Jacob lived, to keep the sense of adventure in marriage and in everyday life, to remain mindful of the high stakes of ordinary conversations, to recognize the everlasting consequences of lingering glances — especially when they're directed heavenward.

All this is true in the orders of grace and nature. The Work of God is to work with love and joy, daily turning up the romance in our ordinary life. For God awaits our tender love, wherever we are and at every moment.

From such romance good homes are made, in the Church and in the world.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Scott Hahn. "Turn Up the Romance." chaper 12 in Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace: My Spiritual Journey in Opus Dei (New York: Doubleday, 2006): 117-122.

Excerpted by permission of Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Religion - Inspirational | Doubleday | Hardcover | 2006 | 13: 978-0-385-519243 |

THE AUTHOR

Scott Hahn is Professor of Theology and Scripture at Franciscan University of Steubenville and is the founder and director of the Saint Paul Center for Biblical Theology. He is the author of many books, including Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace: My Spiritual Journey in Opus Dei, Lord Have Mercy, Letter and Spirit, Understanding the Scriptures, Swear to God, Scripture Matters, Understanding Our Father, First Comes Love: Finding Your Family in the Church and the Trinity, Hail Holy Queen: The Mother of God in the Word of God, The Lamb's Supper: The Mass as Heaven on Earth, A Father Who Keeps His Promises: God's Covenant Love in Scripture, Rome Sweet Home: Our Journey to Catholicism, and co-editor of Catholic for a Reason: Scripture and the Mystery of the Family of God.

Scott Hahn received his Bachelor of Arts degree with a triple-major in Theology, Philosophy and Economics from Grove City College, Pennsylvania, in 1979, his Masters of Divinity from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in 1982, and his Ph.D. in Biblical Theology from Marquette University in 1995. Scott has ten years of youth and pastoral ministry experience in Protestant congregations (in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Massachusetts, Kansas and Virginia) and is a former Professor of Theology at Chesapeake Theological Seminary. He was ordained in 1982 at Trinity Presbyterian Church in Fairfax, Virginia. He entered the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil, 1986.

Copyright © 2006 Scott W. Hahn All Rights Reserved

Wednesday Liturgy: Using the Chalice Pall

ROME, NOV. 13, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: Though I was raised with the Latin Mass as a child, I have since become accustomed to not seeing the pall used. Then, I was assigned for many years in foreign countries where the pall was available, thankfully so, in churches where flies are a problem. Circumstances thus taught me from where the chalice-pall tradition was born. Therefore, except for when I hold the chalice during the consecration, or when I place the small piece of the Host in the chalice, I usually have it covered until reception of the Precious Blood. However, I have had times when a visiting priest will reach over and remove it when the bread and wine are being blessed. I, however, when alone, leave it on until the last possible moment before taking it in hand, especially on a fly-some day. Is there any guide (except common sense) to know when to leave the pall on or take it off? -- J.E., Houston, Texas

A: The chalice pall is a square of linen stiffened with starch, cardboard or plastic set upon the sacred vessel. In some cases the square of white linen is attached to the underside of palls that reflect the seasonal color or even of highly elaborate palls made of different materials including gold, silver and wood. They are also often decorated with sacred images or fine embroidery.

As our reader points out, the primary use of the chalice pall is to prevent dust and insects from falling into the chalice during the celebration.

In places where insecticides and air conditioning have greatly reduced the presence of insects during Mass, the use of the pall has greatly diminished.

Even in such cases, however, quite a number of priests still prefer to use the pall, or at least have one available on the altar if necessary. After all, no prevention system is foolproof, and a priest can hardly interrupt the Mass to look for insecticide should a fly start buzzing around the chalice.

In all cases where there is a real danger of flies or dust falling into the chalice, the pall should be used.

While the rule of thumb is common sense, the most common practice appears to have the pall cover the chalice at the credence table from the beginning of Mass until the preparation of the chalice at the presentation of gifts.

After the presentation of the chalice the pall is placed upon the chalice until the epiclesis, when it is removed by the deacon or priest. It is replaced after the showing of the chalice and remains for the rest of the Eucharistic Prayer until the doxology ("Through him, with him "). It is again replaced from the Our Father until the "Haec Commixtio," when a fragment of the Host is placed in the chalice.

Since Communion follows shortly after, and the priest is usually attentive to the chalice, it is not normally replaced after the "Haec Commixtio." After the priest's Communion, the pall may be placed on the chalice again.

When the danger of flies is particularly grave, such as happens in tropical areas, the use of the pall may be extended further.

Special care must also be taken when several chalices are consecrated. If palls are necessary, then they should be used on every chalice. The general custom is to remove all palls during the time of the consecration, but even this removal would not be essential in cases of genuine danger.

In some cases the objective difficulty of protecting the sacred species from flies may be considered sufficient motivation for not offering the option of Communion under both species.
Although it is a secondary motivation, the pall may also be used along with the chalice veil (the use of which is still recommended by the General Instruction for the Roman Missal). Placing the stiff pall under the veil allows it be draped over the chalice in a most elegant manner.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Invoking Old Testament Figures

ROME, NOV. 13, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

After our reply on invoking Old Testament saints (Oct. 30) several readers suggested that I had given insufficient consideration to the fact that almost all the Eastern Catholic Churches do have specific feast days for Old Testament figures.

The objection is valid, although some such oversights are almost inevitable, as a result of the relatively brief extension of our replies as well as of our incomplete knowledge of the Eastern liturgies. This goes to show that we often learn more from our readers than we manage to impart.

Among the celebrations readers mentioned were some saints of the Melkite (Greek or Byzantine Catholic) calendar. A reader cites "Malachi, Jan. 3; Zechariah, Feb. 8; Job, May 6; Amos, June 15; Ezekiel, July 23; Eleazar, the Seven Holy Maccabees, their mother Salome, Aug. 1; Joshua and Moses, Sept. 1 and 4; Hosea, Oct. 17; Daniel and the Three Holy Youths, Dec. 17."
Many of the other holy ones celebrated are grouped toward the last four months of the year. Also, the reader notes: "The Sunday between Dec. 11 and 17 commemorates the holy ancestors of Christ, and the Sunday between Dec. 18 and 24 commemorates all the Old Testament saints from Abraham to Joseph, the husband of Mary."

Besides St. Joseph, both the Latin and Eastern calendars celebrate some saints who are on the frontier between the Old and New Testaments. These include Joachim and Anna, Simeon and the prophetess Anna, Zechariah and Elizabeth, and St. John the Baptist.

Finally, the calendar of the extraordinary form of the Roman rite (1962 missal) celebrates, with proper texts, the feast of the Holy Maccabees on Aug. 1.

God Is Not God of the Dead: Gospel Commentary for the 32rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Father Raniero Cantalamessa is the Pontifical Household preacher. The readings for this Sunday are 2 Maccabees 7:1-2, 9-14; 2 Thessalonians 2:15-3:5; Luke 20:27-38.

ROME, NOV. 9, 2007 (Zenit.org).- In reply to the question that the Sadducees had posed to trap him about the woman who had had seven husbands on earth, Jesus above all reaffirms the fact of the resurrection, correcting at the same time the Sadducees' materialistic caricature of it.

Eternal beatitude is not just an increase and prolongation of terrestrial joys, the maximization of the pleasures of the flesh and the table. The other life is truly another life, a life of a different quality. It is true that it is the fulfillment of all man's longings on earth, yet it is infinitely more, on a different level. "Those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age and to the resurrection of the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. They can no longer die, for they are like angels."At the end of the Gospel passage, Jesus explains the reason why there must be life after death. "That the dead will rise even Moses made known in the passage about the bush, when he called out 'Lord, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob,' and he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive." Where in that is the proof that the dead rise? If God is defined as the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and is a God of the living, not of the dead, then this means that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are alive somewhere, even if they have been dead for centuries at the time that God talks to Moses.

Interpreting Jesus' answer to the Sadducees in an erroneous way, some have claimed that marriage has no follow-up in heaven. But with his reply Jesus rejects the caricature that the Sadducees present of heaven, a caricature that suggests that it is a simple continuation of the earthly relationships of the spouses. He does not deny that they might rediscover in God the bond that united them on earth.

Is it possible that a husband and wife, after a life that brought them into relation with God through the miracle of creation, will not in eternal life have anything more in common, as if all were forgotten, lost? Would this not be contrary to Jesus' word according to which that which God has united must not be divided? If God united them on earth, how could he divide them in heaven? Could an entire life spent together end in nothing without betraying the meaning of this present life, which is a preparation for the kingdom, the new heaven and the new earth?

It is Scripture itself, and not only the natural desire of the husband and wife, that supports this hope. Marriage, Scripture says, is "a great sacrament" because it symbolizes the union between Christ and the Church (Ephesians 5:32). Is it possible that it be eliminated in the heavenly Jerusalem, where there will be celebrated the eternal wedding feast of Christ and the Church of which the marriage of man and woman is an image?

According to this vision, matrimony does not entirely end with death but is transfigured, spiritualized -- it loses those limits that mark life on earth -- in the same way that the bonds between parents and children or between friends will not be forgotten. In the preface of the Mass for the dead, the liturgy says that with death "life is changed, not taken away"; the same must be said of marriage, which is an integral part of life.

But what about those who have had a negative experience of earthly marriage, an experience of misunderstanding and suffering? Should not this idea that the marital bond will not break at death be for them, rather than a consolation, a reason for fear? No, for in the passage from time to eternity the good remains and evil falls away. The love that united them, perhaps for only a brief time, remains; defects, misunderstandings, suffering that they inflicted on each other, will fall away. Many spouses will experience true love for each other only when they will be reunited "in God," and with this love there will be the joy and fullness of the union that they did not know on earth. This is also what happens to the love between Faust and Margaret in Goethe's story: "Only in heaven the unreachable -- that is, the total and pacific union between two creatures who love each other -- will become reality." In God all will be understood, all will be excused, all will be forgiven.

And what can be said about those who have been legitimately married to different people, widowers and widows who have remarried. (This was the case presented to Jesus of the seven brothers who successively had the same woman as their wife.) Even for them we must repeat the same thing: That which was truly love and self-surrender between each of the husbands or wives, being objectively a good coming from God, will not be dissolved. In heaven there will not be rivalry in love or jealousy. These things do not belong to true love but to the intrinsic limits of the creature.

[Translation by ZENIT]

Wednesday Liturgy: Readings on a Feast of the Lord

ROME, NOV. 6, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q: When a feast of the Lord, which may or normally does occur on Sunday, is celebrated on a weekday, how many readings are used at Mass in addition to the Gospel? Examples would be the Baptism of the Lord, the Transfiguration, and the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica. The default taken by readers, because there are two readings in the lectionary and no indication of what to do, is to read both. I am inclined to say that since the proper number of readings on a feast is one, only one need be read. This would be in conformity with all the other changes made for these feasts when they occur on a weekday: no Creed, no first vespers, etc. Next, if I am correct, is the Old Testament or the New Testament reading to be taken? Or is it a choice of the celebrant? -- A.T., Charlottesville, Virginia

A: This question is probably best answered by referring to the general principles found in the calendar.

Two things must be considered: 1) the table of precedence that determines which feasts are celebrated whenever two celebrations coincide, and 2) the elements proper to each class.

A feast is distinguished from an ordinary day or the memorial of a saint by its proper formulas and by adding the Gloria. It has the same number of readings as other weekdays (two, including the Gospel) but these are almost always specifically chosen to reflect the feast.

If a feast, for example, the Visitation of Our Lady or the feast of an apostle or the Evangelist Luke, happens to coincide with a Sunday, then it is omitted for that year because Sunday has precedence.

However, when a feast of the Lord, such as the Presentation, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, and the other examples given above, coincide with a Sunday of ordinary time, it has precedence and is celebrated instead of the corresponding Sunday.

When this happens, however, all of Sunday's specific liturgical elements, such as the two readings and the Gospel and the profession of faith, are conserved. This is why the lectionary provides two readings (rather than one) plus the Gospel for these feasts.

When the feast of the Lord falls on a weekday it reverts to the normal liturgical elements proper to a feast and has only one reading and the Gospel. The celebrant can freely choose which of the two first readings is to be read, along with the prescribed Gospel text.

This freedom of choice is not always specified in the lectionaries. But it is clearly stated in official guides and calendars published by many bishops' conferences such as the one published by the Latium ecclesiastical province that includes Rome.

If two readings and the Gospel were to be read, then we would then have three rather than two classes of festive celebrations: solemnities, feasts, and feasts of the Lord, a distinction not contemplated in any liturgical document.

Finally, the dedication of St. John Lateran is counted as a feast of the Lord because Rome's cathedral was first of all dedicated to "the Most Holy Savior" while the dedication to Sts. John the Baptist and the Evangelist were added at a later date.

Wednesday Liturgy: Follow-up: Arriving After the Gospel; No Communion

ROME, NOV. 6, 2007 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

With respect to our piece on arriving late for Mass (Oct. 23) several readers pointed out opinions stating that one fulfilled the obligation if one arrived before the offertory.

These opinions were generally written before the Second Vatican Council and reflected the liturgical situation and canonical thought of the times. Back then, the first parts of the Mass were frequently referred to using expressions such as "pre-Mass" or "Mass of the catechumens."

Likewise the obligation to assist at Mass was frequently couched in strictly juridical terms and under pain of mortal sin which naturally led to questions as to the legal extent of the obligation.

I believe that the opinion that the offertory is a cut-off point is no longer valid.

First of all, while the obligation remains in force, canon law no longer explicitly obliges under pain of mortal sin. This does not mean that deliberately or negligently missing Mass is no longer a mortal sin; it is, but not in virtue of a canonical stricture.

In large part this is because one of the criteria in reforming the Code of Canon Law was to remove the obligation under pain of mortal sin from ecclesiastical precepts. Any sinfulness involved would depend on the circumstances and attitude toward God's will of the person who failed to fulfill the obligation.

Second, one of the most important aspects of the liturgical reform was to revaluate the Mass as a single act of worship, which must be attended in its entirety in order to be true to its nature.

This moving away from the juridical focus of the obligation and the stress on the wholeness of the Mass is why one is unlikely to ever find any official view suggesting arriving at the offertory, or any other moment of the Mass, as sufficient to fulfill the Sunday obligation.

Rather, each person must examine the causes of his lateness and act in good conscience out of love of God and fidelity to his will.

In this context, when I mentioned in my earlier column that a person who arrived after the consecration should not receive Communion, it was not to suggest that the consecration is a cut-off point. Rather, it simply suggested that missing the consecration is practically equivalent to missing Mass and not just arriving late.

The reason for refraining from Communion at this stage is out of respect for the Eucharist. That sacrament should be received after a proper spiritual preparation according to the mind of the Church.

Thus, I believe that a person finding himself in this situation through no fault of his own, and with no possibility of attending a later Mass, should rather prefer to wait till Mass is over and ask the priest to administer Communion outside of Mass according to the approved rites.

Of course, there might be special exceptions even to this. It is impossible to foresee all possible situations. I believe, however, that we should insist on proper reverence in administrating holy Communion according to the Church's mind and rites, and always strive to give the Eucharistic Lord all the love and respect that he deserves.