Catholic Metanarrative

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Unless I Put My Hand Into His Side ...: Gospel Commentary for 2nd Sunday of Easter

Father Raniero Cantalamessa is the Pontifical Household preacher. The readings for this Sunday are Acts 2:42-47; 1 Peter 1:23-9; John 20:19-31.

* * *

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 30, 2008 (Zenit.org).- The first of the two appearances of Christ described in today's Gospel occurs Easter evening, "the first day after the Sabbath," and the second appearance, the one in which the episode with Thomas takes place, occurs "eight days later," that is, again on the first day after the Sabbath.

The insistence on the chronological date of the two appearances shows the Evangelist John's intention to present Jesus' meeting with his followers in the cenacle as a prototype of the Church's Sunday assembly. Jesus is present among his disciples in the Sunday Eucharist too; he gives them peace and the Holy Spirit; at communion they touch, indeed they receive, his wounded and risen body, reciting the Creed they proclaim, like Thomas, their faith in him.

The designation "first day of the week" is very soon replaced by the other designation "day of the Lord" (Revelation 1:10), whose exact corresponding phrase in Latin is "dies dominica." "Dominica" very soon passes from being an adjective to being a noun and this is how our Italian word "Domenica" ("Sunday") came about.

A distinctive trait of Sunday in the epoch of the Fathers is joy. We already see it anticipated in today's Gospel: "The disciples rejoiced in seeing the Lord" (John 20:20). Sunday is regarded as the "little Easter," or "the weekly Easter." By extension, the verse of Psalm 118 in which the Jews and Christians referred to the Passover, is applied to Sunday: "This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it" (118:24).

Naturally, the liturgical assembly is the heart of Sunday. What the Sunday celebration of the Eucharist represented for Christians in the time of persecution is shown to us by the North African martyr Saturnius and his companions, who died under the persecution of Diocletian in A.D. 305. To the Roman judge who accused them of transgressing the emperor's order not to hold meetings, the martyrs said: "The Christian cannot be without the Eucharist and the Eucharist cannot be without the Christian." "The Eucharist is the hope and the salvation of Christians."

A line spoken by these martyrs is often cited thus: "We cannot live without Sunday." But this translation is not very exact. Taken literally, it does not make much sense. The word that is translated as "Sunday" here ("dominicum") actually means "the Lord's meal," that is, the Eucharist. The title of the congress, therefore, must be understood, if at all, in the sense of: "We cannot live without the Sunday celebration of the Eucharist."

We need to rediscover what Sunday was for the first centuries, when it was a special day, not because of external supports but by its own internal force. The obligation to attend Sunday Mass by itself does not seem to be sufficient to bring Christians to Church on Sunday. We must emphasize the need that the Christian has to receive the body and blood of the Lord over his obligation to receive it. "[S]haring in the Eucharist," John Paul II wrote in "Novo Millennio Inuente," "should really be the heart of Sunday for every baptized person. It is a fundamental duty, to be fulfilled not just in order to observe a precept but as something felt as essential to a truly informed and consistent Christian life."

No Catholic should return home from Sunday Mass without feeling, in some measure, "reborn to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead" (1 Peter 1:3). When one returns home from encountering the risen Lord, Sunday acquires a new taste and color: Everything is more beautiful, even sitting at table at home or at a restaurant, even the game at the stadium.

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Only Christians Believe Christ Is Risen: Gospel Commentary for Easter Sunday

Father Raniero Cantalamessa is the Pontifical Household preacher. The readings for this Sunday are Acts 10:34a, 37-43; Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-9.

* * *

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 21, 2008 (Zenit.org).- To the women who had come to the tomb on Easter morning the angels said: "Do not be afraid. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified. He is risen!"

But did Jesus really rise? What assurances do we have that we are dealing with something that really happened and not an invention or suggestion? St. Paul, writing no more than 25 years after the event, lists all the people who saw Jesus after the resurrection, the majority of whom were still alive (1 Corinthians 15:8). For what fact of antiquity do we have testimony as strong as this?But a general observation will also convince us of the truth of the event. At the moment of Jesus' death the disciples were scattered; his case was taken to be closed: "We had hoped that he would," the disciples of Emmaus say. Evidently they did not hope anymore.

And then all of a sudden we see these same men proclaim together that Jesus is alive and face, on account of this testimony, trials, persecutions and, in the end, one after the other, martyrdom and death. What could have caused such a total change if not the certainty that he had truly risen.

They could not be deceived because they spoke and ate with him after his resurrection; and then they were practical men, not at all given to easy exaltation. They themselves doubted at first and put up not a little resistance to believing. Neither could they have wanted to deceive others, because, if Jesus was not risen, they were precisely the first to be betrayed and to return. Without the fact of the resurrection, the birth of Christianity and of the Church becomes a mystery that is still more difficult to explain than the resurrection itself.

These are some objective, historical arguments, but the strongest argument that Christ is risen, is that he is alive! He is alive not because we keep him alive by talking about him, but because he keeps us alive, he communicates the sense of his presence to us, he makes us hope. "He touches Christ who believes in Christ," St. Augustine said, and the true believers experience the truth in this affirmation.

Those who do not believe in the reality of the resurrection have always advanced hypotheses that it be treated as a phenomenon of autosuggestion; the apostles "believed" to see. But this, if it were true, would constitute, in the end, a miracle no less great than the one that people try to avoid admitting. Suppose that different people, in different situations and places, all had the same hallucination. Imaginary visions usually come to those who intensely expect and desire them, but the apostles, after the events of Good Friday, did not expect anything else.

Christ's resurrection is, for the spiritual universe, what the initial "Big Bang" was for the physical universe, according to one modern theory: such a massive explosion of energy impressed on the cosmos that expansion of energy that continues even today at a distance of billions of years. Take away from the Church faith in the resurrection and everything stops and shuts down, as when the electrical current goes out in a house.

St. Paul writes: "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the death, you will be saved" (Romans 10:9). "The faith of Christians is the resurrection of Christ," St. Augustine said. Everyone believes that Jesus died, even the pagans, the agnostics believe it. But only Christians believe that he has also risen, and one is not a Christian unless he believes this.

Raising Christ from the dead, it is as if God had approved his conduct, impressing it with his seal. "God has given to all men an assurance by raising Jesus from the dead" (Acts 17:31).

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Pastoral Letter: Towards a Morally Rebuilt Nation


(Pastoral Statement of the Archbishop, Bishops of the Ecclesiastical Province of Manila composed of Archdiocese of Manila, the Dioceses of Antipolo, Caloocan, Cubao, Imus, Malolos, Novaliches, Parañaque, Pasig, San Pablo, the Apostolic Vicariates of Puerto Princesa and Taytay, and
the Military Ordinariate.)

Today we are experiencing a social and political mess. This however goes beyond the question of truth to the search for probity. Probity is about the integrity of all, the accuser and the accused. We are unhappy and we feel betrayed. And yet as Pope benedict XVI reminds us “in spite of our great disappointment our great hope can only be God who has loved us and continues to love us to the end, until all is accomplished”, (Spe Salvi, 27). We also know that together we have the capacity to correct and purify the nation by starting with ourselves.

The Model for Change is the Desert.

The history of salvation teaches us that the long road to freedom inevitably passes through the desert of purification and conversion. Having escaped from Pharaoh, via the miraculous crossing through the Sea of Reeds, the Israelites considered themselves liberated. But they were not yet free, because they wanted to go back to their old ways in Egypt. “Should we not do better to go back to Egypt?” (Numbers 14:2-3).

The chosen people hesitated at the shores of the Sea and remained enslaved. So Moses led Israel away from the Sea of Reeds, and they entered the desert of Shur. (Exodus 15:22) Believing that Pharaoh was the idolater refusing them the worship of the true God, it was in the wilderness where the people discovered that they too were guilty worshipers of golden idols. (Exodus 32:1-29). People were disciplined and converted from their greed (Exodus: 17-21); and the desert which the Israelites feared to enter became for them a place of purification, discipline and conversion, before they could enter the promised land of freedom, forty years later. There are yet no proven easy short cuts to conversion and renewal.

Looking back at EDSA I, euphoric and heroic as it was, it appeared that the event became the Filipinos’ day of crossing to freedom; but that was only the first step that hardly anyone knew. The “desert” awaited the people who would be purified and converted, before they become fully liberated. But people preferred the convenient streets as the easier route to an imagined freedom, and feared that the “desert experience” that awaited conversion and new beginnings.

Corruption as the cancer of the nation.

We cannot add more to the wrath of God for lies, untruth, injustice and evil. Conscience, as the voice of God within, already tells us what good there is to pursue and what evil to avoid. Our people are known to be God-fearing and God-loving; sadly, they fight, deceive and kill for money.

Shamefully, we have been known to be a nation whose prime industry has been identified as politics simply because politics is the main route to power, which in turn, is the main route to wealth (1). In this country people use politics to get money, and more politics to protect more money. “Corruption radically distorts the role of representative institutions, because they become an arena for political bartering between clients’ requests and governmental services. In this way political choices favor the narrow objectives of those who posses the means to influence these choices and are an obstacle to bringing the common good of all citizens.” (Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, 411).

The subordination of the public good to individual or group interests is what corruption is all about. In whatever form it takes, the practice of corruption is both immoral and unjust. Corruption is worst than lies, because lies are employed only to cover it. Whenever Government money is stolen or whenever supplier or contractors’ money is offered as bribe to secure projects, to the disadvantage of the Government graft or corruption is committed. Graft is the acquisition of gain by dishonest, unfair and sordid means through the abuse of one’s position in politics, business, etc., while corruption is the improper enrichment of politicians or civil servants or those close to them by misuse of public power entrusted to them. [BIR, Revenue Memo Circular 12-2005]. As an injustice to the Government and people, graft and corruption are against the Seventh Commandment and have the added element if betraying one’s country.

The Universal and All-time Application of the Seventh Commandment.

The Seventh Commandment, “Thou shall not steal”, applies to all, as individuals or as groups. Thus, if one holds on to money or its equivalent that is not his or hers (or theirs), justice demands restitution of the stolen or bribe money to the owner. (CCC, 1459). If the owner can no longer be located, then the money should be given to the poor, or to a credible institution that will give the money for the poor or give true services for the poor.

Restitution was the constant teaching in relation to the violation of the Seventh Commandment in the Bible. “If anyone steals…he will pay back.” (Exodus 21:37).

“Look Lord, I am going to give half my property to the poor, and if I have cheated anybody I will pay him back four times the amount.” With this confession, the Lord Jesus blessed Zacchaeus with salvation. (Luke 19:8-10). The teaching of the Church on stealing is this: No Restitution, no Absolution. In the words of Jesus: with Restitution, there is Salvation. (Luke 19:9). An authentic conversion demands willingness to restore what has been stolen and the resolve not to steal again.

The penitent should not be so complacent about one’s faith as to consider oneself truly absolved before God on account of faith alone, even if one has no contrition…For faith without penance would effect no remission of sins. (Council of Trent).

The mandate of the Seventh Commandment is also addressed to traders and ordinary citizens in all practices of business, commerce and trading. Fraud in business, over pricing, bribery in contracts, cheating in scales, cheating in legitimate taxes and the smuggling of taxable goods, including also the smuggling and trafficking of substances for abuse to damn the innocent and the weak members of society, etc. --- all these are among the many forms of violating the Seventh Commandment.

Our Response: Our desert experience.

Te old and the young, from kindergarten through high school on to the tertiary level of education till up to the licensure exams, are all to be formed and guided towards integrity, trained never to cheat in studies and exams. The “discipline of the desert” is to be taught and applied, if anyone is to succeed at any level towards “the fullness of life.”

The Seventh Commandment covers not only the present corruption deals that have been recently exposed, but also all deals, at all levels of government service, of all administrations and governance, no matter what came out of the past or will come out of the present or future inquiries. “Thou shalt not steal” covers also all trading of even ordinary citizens.

We suddenly noticed that the widespread corruption we see in others is also the corruption we detect in ourselves.

Corrupt practices and fraud prevailed in the cities, towns and even in small Barangays. In the last two generations there had been tens of thousands of graft-ridden contracts in Government, the biggest single controversial project ever recorded in the Philippine history was the Westinghouse’s Bataan Nuclear Plant (2).

True liberation would mean that we enter our desert of repentance and conversion. Change lies only at the heart of every person. Let us begin there.

Values for living justly will be preached in parishes, prayed for in the homes, re-taught in schools, discussed in small communities and groups. Support structures will be required for a righteous life and fair dealings. After our personal and communal “desert” conversion, we will, please God, be ushered to the freedom we seek.

God’s Help is always needed.

We need God’s grace, if we are to encourage one another, forgive each other, pay our debts to the justice that we all violated, and start again, not at the banks of “our Sea of Reeds”, but beyond the streets of EDSA. Believers and lovers of God, like true Christians do not have to hate, destroy each other even if they want to correct the mistakes of the past or the present and of each other. Many are critical of the present governance particularly in the areas of truth and justice. But we can restore truth and justice without restoring to violence and hatred. A nation built on contempt is completely unimaginable. As pastors we cannot tell you less, even if some will resent the way we teach. It is for everybody’s good, especially the very poor among our brothers and sisters that we now address this call for communal renewal.

We need the leaders from the highest to the lowest and their families not only to leas us, but also to give us examples of repentance and true humble conversion. We also need people with other ideas but with positive emotions in nation building. Given the example and encouragement, the citizens will be inspired to follow where in the past they hesitated to proceed --- to their “desert” transformation.

Ngayon diretso na tayo sa hindi natin kaagad gustong puntahan --- sa Disyerto ng ating mga masamang karanasan at kasalanan na dapat nating baguhin! May Pag-asa ppo ang ating Bayan at ang ating sarili. Basta’t sa pagbabago kay Kristo Hesus tayo ay magsama sama.

In prayer let us beg Mary and Joseph to lead us back to the Christ that we had lost in the past! God bless us all!

+GAUDENCIO B. CARDINAL ROSALES
Archbishop of Manila

BISHOP HONESTO O. ONGTIOCO
Bishop of Cubao

BISHOP JESSE E. MERCADO
Bishop of Parañaque

BISHOP DEOGRACIAS S. IÑIGUEZ, JR.
Bishop of Caloocan

BISHOP FRANCISCO C. SAN DIEGO
Bishop of Pasig

BISHOP GABRIEL V. REYES
Bishop of Antipolo

BISHOP ANTONIO R. TOBIAS
Bishop of Novaliches

BISHOP JOSE F. OLIVEROS
Bishop of Malolos

BISHOP LEO M. DRONA
Bishop of San Pablo

BISHOP LUIS ANTONIO G. TAGLE
Bishop of Imus

BISHOP PEDRO D. ARIGO
Vicar Apostolic of Puerto Princesa

BISHOP EDGARDO S. JUANICH
Apostolic Vicar of Taytay

BISHOP LEOPOLDO S. TUMULAK
Military Ordinariate

BISHOP FRANCISCO M. DE LEON
Auxuliary Bishop of Antipolo

BISHOP BRODERICK S. PABILLO
Auxiliary Bishop of Manila

BISHOP BERNARDINO C. CORTEZ
Auxiliary Bishop of Manila

Palm Sunday
March 16, 2008

  • Samuel Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, p. 67.
  • Ricardo Manapat, Some are Smarter than Others, ($1.9B in 1981 to $2B in 1982), pp.324-328; 341.

Friday, March 21, 2008

Good Friday Sermon of Father Cantalamessa: "The Tunic Was Without Seam"

VATICAN CITY, MARCH 21, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Here is a translation of the sermon delivered today by Capuchin Father Raniero Cantalamessa, preacher of the Pontifical Household, at the Good Friday liturgy in St. Peter's Basilica.

* * *

"When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four shares, a share for each soldier. They also took his tunic, but the tunic was without seam, woven in one piece from the top down. So they said to one another, 'Let's not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it will be,' in order that the passage of Scripture might be fulfilled that says: 'They divided my garments among them, and for my vesture they cast lots'" (John 19:23-24).

It has always been asked what the evangelist John wanted to say with the importance that he gives to this particular detail of the Passion. One relatively recent explanation is that the tunic alludes to the vestment of the high priest and that with this, John wanted to affirm that Jesus died not only as king but also as priest.

It is not said in the Bible, however, that the tunic of the high priest had to be seamless (cf. Exodus 28: 4; Leviticus 16:4). For this reason the most authoritative of the exegetes prefer to stick to the traditional explanation, according to which the seamless tunic symbolized the unity of the disciples.[1] It is the interpretation that St. Cyprian already gave: "The unity of the Church," he writes, "is expressed in the Gospel when it is said that the tunic of Christ was not divided or cut."[2]

Whatever be the explanation that one gives to the text, one thing is certain: The unity of the disciples is, for John, the purpose for which Christ dies. "Jesus had to die for the nation, and not only for the nation, but also to gather into one the dispersed children of God" (John 11:51-52). At the Last Supper he himself said: "I pray not only for them, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me" (John 17:20-21).

The glad tidings to proclaim on Good Friday are that unity, before it is a goal to be sought, is a gift to be received. That the tunic is woven "from the top down," St. Cyprian continues, means that "the unity brought by Christ comes from above, from the heavenly Father, and because of this it cannot be broken apart by those who receive it, but must be received in its integrity."

The soldiers divided "the clothes," or the "the cloak," ("ta imatia") into four pieces, that is, Jesus' outer garments, not the tunic, the "chiton," which was the inner garment, which was in direct contact with his body. This is also a symbol. We men can divide the human and visible element of the Church, but not its deeper unity, which is identified with the Holy Spirit. Christ's tunic was not and can never be divided. It too is of a single piece. "Can Christ be divided?" Paul cried out (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:13). It is the faith we profess in the Creed: "I believe in the Church, one, holy, catholic and apostolic."

* * *

But if unity must serve as a sign "so that the world believe," it must also be a visible, communitarian unity. This is the unity that has been lost and must be rediscovered. It is much more than maintaining neighborly relations; it is the mystical interior unity itself -- "one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God Father of all" (Ephesians 4:4-6) -- insofar as this objective unity is in fact received, lived and manifested by believers. A unity that is not endangered by diversity, but enriched by it.

After Easter the apostles asked Jesus: "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?" Today we often address the same question to God: Is this the time in which you will restore the visible unity of the Church? God's answer is also the same as the one Jesus gave to the disciples: "It is not for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has established by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses" (Acts 1:6-8).

The Holy Father recalled this in a homily he gave on Jan. 25 in the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls at the end of Christian Unity Week: "Unity with God and our brothers and sisters," he wrote, "is a gift that comes from on high, which flows from the communion of love between Father, Son and Holy Spirit in which it is increased and perfected. It is not in our power to decide when or how this unity will be fully achieved. Only God can do it! Like St Paul, let us also place our hope and trust 'in the grace of God which is with us.'"

Today as well, the Holy Spirit will be the one to lead us into unity, if we let him guide us. How was it that the Holy Spirit brought about the first fundamental unity of the Church, that between Jews and pagans? The Holy Spirit descends upon Cornelius and his whole household in the same way in which he descended upon the apostles at Pentecost. So, Peter only needed to draw the conclusion: "If then God gave them the same gift he gave to us when we came to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I to be able to hinder God?" (Acts 11:17).

For a century now, we have seen the same thing repeat itself before our eyes on a global scale. God has poured out the Holy Spirit in a new and unusual way upon millions of believers from every Christian denomination and, so that there would be no doubts about his intentions, he poured out the Spirit with the same manifestations. Is this not a sign that the Spirit moves us to recognize each other as disciples of Christ and work toward unity?

It is true that this spiritual and charismatic unity is not enough by itself. We see this already at the beginning of the Church. The newly formed unity between Jews and Gentiles was immediately threatened by schism. In the so-called Council of Jerusalem there was a "long discussion" and at the end an agreement was reached and announced to the Church with the formula: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us..." (Acts 15:28). The Holy Spirit works, therefore, also through another way, which is that of patient exchange, dialogue and even compromise between the different sides, when the essentials of the faith are not in play. He works through human "structures" and the "offices" put in action by Jesus, above all the apostolic and petrine office. It is that which today we call doctrinal and institutional ecumenism.

* * *

However, experience is convincing us that even this doctrinal ecumenism is not sufficient and does not advance matters if it is not also accompanied by a foundational spiritual ecumenism. This is repeated with ever greater insistence by the major promoters of institutional ecumenism. In this centenary of the institution of the week of prayer for Christian unity (1908-2008), at the foot of the cross we would like to meditate on this spiritual ecumenism, on what this spiritual ecumenism is and how we can make progress in it.

Spiritual ecumenism is born through repentance and forgiveness and is nourished by prayer. In 1977, I participated in a charismatic ecumenical congress in the U.S., in Kansas City, Missouri. There were 40,000 participants, half of them Catholic -- Cardinal Suenens among them -- and half from other Christian denominations. One evening, one of the leaders of the meeting began speaking at the microphone in a way that, to me, at that time, was strange: "You priests and pastors, weep and mourn, because the body of my Son is broken. ... You laypeople, men and women, weep and mourn, because the body of my Son is broken."

I began to see people around me fall to their knees, one after another, and to weep with repentance for the divisions in the body of Christ. And all of this went on while a sign reading "Jesus is Lord" went up from one part of the stadium to the other. I was there as an observer who was still rather critical and detached, but I remember thinking to myself: If one day all believers shall be reunited in one single body, it will happen like this, when we all are on our knees with a contrite and humiliated heart, under the great lordship of Christ.

If the unity of the disciples must be a reflection of the unity between Father and Son, it must above all be a unity of love, because such is the unity that reigns in the Trinity. Scripture exhorts us to "do the truth in love" -- "veritatem facientes in caritate" (Ephesians 4:15). And Augustine affirms that "one does not enter into the truth if not through charity" -- "non intratur in veritatem nisi per caritatem."[3]

The extraordinary thing about this way to unity based on love is that it is already now wide open before us. We cannot be hasty in regard to doctrine because differences exist and must be resolved with patience in the appropriate contexts. We can instead "be hasty" in charity and already be united in that sense now. The true, certain sign of the coming of the Spirit, St. Augustine writes, is not speaking in tongues, but it is the love of unity: "Know that you have the Holy Spirit when you allow your heart to adhere to unity through sincere charity."[4]

Let us reflect on St. Paul's hymn to charity. Each verse acquires a contemporary and new meaning if it is applied to the love of members of different Christian denominations in ecumenical relations:

"Love is patient
Love is not jealous
It does not seek its own interests
It does not brood over injury (if necessary, of the injury done to others!)
It does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth (it doesn't rejoice over the difficulties of other Churches, but delights in their successes)
It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things" (1 Corinthians 13:4ff.).

This week we have accompanied a woman to her eternal rest -- Chiara Lubich, the founder of the Focolare Movement -- who was a pioneer and model of the spiritual ecumenism of love. She showed that the pursuit of unity among Christians does not lead to a closing to the rest of the world; it is rather the first step and the condition for a broader dialogue with believers of other religions and with all men and women who are concerned about the fate of humanity and about peace.

* * *

"Loving," it has been said, "does not mean looking at each other but looking together in the same direction." Even among Christians loving means looking in the same direction, which is Christ. "He is our peace" (Ephesians 2:14). It is like the spokes of a wheel. Consider what happens to the spokes of a wheel when they move from the center outward: As they distance themselves from the center they also become more distant from each other. On the contrary when they move from the periphery toward the center, as they come closer to the center, they also come nearer to each other, until they form a single point. To the extent that we move together toward Christ, we draw nearer to each other, until we are truly, as Jesus desired, "one with him and with the Father."

That which will reunite divided Christianity will only be a new wave of love for Christ that spreads among Christians. This is what is happening through the work of the Holy Spirit and it fills us with wonder and hope. "The love of Christ moves us, because we are convinced that one has died for all" (2 Corinthians 5:14). The brother who belongs to another Church -- indeed every human being -- is "a person for whom Christ died" (Romans 14:16), as he has died for me.

* * *

One thing must move us forward on this journey. What is in play at the beginning of the third millennium, is not the same as what was in play at the beginning of the second millennium, when there was the separation of East and West; nor is it the same as what was in play in the middle of the same millennium when there was the separation of Catholics and Protestants. Can we say that the way the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father or how justification of the sinner comes about are the problems that impassion the men of today and with which the Christian faith stands or falls? The world has moved beyond us and we remain fixed by problems and formulas that the world does not even know the meaning of.

In battles in the Middle Ages there was a moment in which, after the infantry, archers and cavalry had been overwhelmed, the melee began to circle around the king. There the final outcome of the fight was decided. Today the battle for us also takes place around the king. There are buildings and structures made of metal in such a way that if a certain neuralgic point is touched or a certain stone is removed, everything falls apart. In the edifice of the Christian faith this cornerstone is the divinity of Christ. If this is removed, everything falls apart and faith in the Trinity is the first to go.

From this we see that today there are two possible ecumenisms: an ecumenism of faith and an ecumenism of incredulity; one that unites all those who believe that Jesus is the Son of God, that God is Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and that Christ died to save all humankind, and an ecumenism that unites all those who, in deference to the Nicene Creed, continue to proclaim these formulas but empty them of their content. It is an ecumenism in which, in its extreme form, everyone believes the same things because no one any longer believes anything, in the sense that "believing" has in the New Testament.

"Who is it that overcomes the world," John writes in his first letter, "if not those who believe that Jesus is the Son of God?" (1 John 5:5). Sticking with this criterion, the fundamental distinction among Christians is not between Catholics, Orthodox and Protestants, but between those who believe that Christ is the Son of God and those who do not believe this.

* * *

"On the first day of the sixth month in the second year of King Darius, the word of the LORD came through the prophet Haggai to the governor of Judah, Zerubbabel, son of Shealtiel, and to the high priest Joshua, son of Jehozadak: 'Is it time for you to dwell in your own paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins?'" (Haggai 1:1-4).

This word of the prophet Haggai is addressed to us today. Is this the time to concern ourselves with that which only regards our religious order, our movement, or our Church? Is this not precisely the reason why we too "sow much but harvest little" (Haggai 1:6)? We preach and we are active in many ways, but we convert few people and the world moves away from Christ instead of drawing near to him.

The people of Israel heard the prophet's reproof; everyone stopped embellishing his own house and began to work together on God's temple. God then sent his prophet again with a message of consolation and encouragement, which is also addressed to us: "But now take courage, Zerubbabel, says the Lord, and take courage, Joshua, high priest, son of Jehozadak, And take courage, all you people of the land, says the Lord, and work! For I am with you, says the Lord of hosts" (Haggai 2:4). Take courage, all of you who have at heart the cause of the unity of Christians, and go to work, because I am with you, says the Lord!

--- --- ---

[1] Cf. R. E. Brown, "The Death of the Messiah," vol. 2, Doubleday, New York 1994, pp. 955-958.
[2] St. Cyprian, De unitate Ecclesiae, 7 (CSEL 3, p. 215).
[3] St. Augustine, Contra Faustum, 32,18 (CCL 321, p. 779).
[4] St. Augustine, Sermons, 269,3-4 (PL38, 1236 s

[Translation by Joseph G. Trabbic]

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Article: 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

JAMES BOWMAN

As I was coming out of a screening of 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days, as shaken up by the experience as I imagine everyone who has seen the film must be, I accidentally fell into step behind a couple — she in her 20s or early 30s, he considerably older, both elegantly dressed — who were making their reaction to what they had seen a matter for public remark.

Actually, it was the woman who was doing most of the talking while the man, in a considerably lower voice, sounded as if he was trying to pour oil upon troubled waters. He probably was, too. She was saying that the entire Supreme Court should be made to see this movie, as this is what our country would look like if Roe v. Wade were to be overturned. That was why, in case anyone wanted to know, she had at some demonstration or other been known to scream in public — she was not far off it now — as she had joined with other women to keep abortion legal, and why she would be doing it again.

As we parted ways on coming out of the building, I heard the word "Bush" more than once, and not in a nice tone, but I missed the rest of this lady’s harangue and all of the reaction to it of her softer-voiced companion. Hers, I thought, was an understandable response to what must be one of the most harrowing depictions of an abortion ever shown on film and a picture that well deserved the Palme d’Or that it won at Cannes last year. Yet it seemed odd that all she could see of it afterwards was the fact that, having taken place in Romania during the dying days of the oddly puritanical Ceausescu regime, now nearly 20 years in the past, the abortion had been an illegal one. However horrible its illegality had made it — and that’s pretty horrible — it’s hard to see how that could so completely blind someone to the horror — for such it also certainly is — of the abortion itself. Such are the powers of ideology.

To be fair, the Romanian film-maker, Cristian Mungiu, had to some extent encouraged such a reaction by stressing the predatory nature of the abortionist, who bears the grimly comical nom de guerre of Mr Bebe (Vlad Ivanov) and who uses in vile and degrading ways his advantage — created by the fact that they are engaged in a criminal conspiracy — over the two frightened college students, Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) and Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) who employ him Yet Mr Mungiu, unlike so many of his pro-choice feminist fans, is at least as interested in the evils of the unnamed "procedure" as he is in those that ensue from its illegality. Naturally this makes him more difficult to classify ideologically than either side in the abortion debate would like him to be, but as the woman I overheard demonstrated, there is nothing to stop the dedicated ideologue from simply ignoring the parts of the film she doesn’t care to see.

These include, it should be said up front, an unblinking, unabashed shot of an aborted foetus. This, Mr Mungiu was quoted in the press as saying, "makes a point — people should be aware of the consequences of their decisions." Just so. But there is more to his film than this. It’s hard to tell about Gabita, who is weak, sly and manipulative, as willing to take advantage of her friend as Bebe is to take advantage of both of them, but for Otilia the terrible price she is willing to pay for her friend’s abortion is all part of her more general determination to do whatever is necessary to break free of what the totalitarian communist régime has made the prison of her peasant origins. On more than one occasion, she tells us that she is studying "Tech" at the university because Tech students are not sent to the country. Gabita comes from the same rural home town as she, and her loyalty to her, for which she pays such a high price, seems to be part and parcel of her ambition to improve her own lot in life.


There is nothing trivial about the act we are forced to witness in Mr Mungiu’s movie, and that makes it both more morally compelling and more true to life.


Mr Mungiu has also explained that what he was trying to convey was that, "Because of the pressure of the regime, women and families were so much concerned about not being caught for making an illegal abortion that they didn't give one minute of thought about the moral issue." It makes sense, I guess. Which of us can be sure how we might act if we were subject to the desperation created by living under a totalitarian régime? That desperation serves in the film, by motivating the abortion, to reinforce the pro-life view of the momentousness of such an act. Or, to put it another way, I wonder what could have been the excuse of the well-dressed fan of Roe v. Wade whom I overheard for her giving not one minute’s thought to the moral issue? She does seem rather to have missed the point, doesn’t she?

In fact, you could argue that Mr Mungiu is making the case that abortion should be not only legal but compulsory for such a feckless nincompoop as Gabita. Here is a woman who has learned to exploit her own helpless stupidity in order to make other people do things for her. She stumbled into getting pregnant and then she stumbled into an abortion, an abortion for which poor Otilia has to pay all the considerable ancillary expenses. A eugenicist might be just as enthusiastic about this movie, as ready to see it as confirming his own views about the world, as the pro-choice woman I followed out of the cinema. Such people, this hypothetical eugenicist might say — if anyone could be got to admit to being a eugenicist these days — such people as Gabita should be sterilized or, failing that, subjected to compulsory abortion on every one of the doubtless many occasions when she will fall pregnant through her own heedlessness and stupidity.

In other words, there are several ways to forget or ignore or literally to annihilate the innocent party to this transaction. Arguably, by making their movies all about the feelings of those who have the child’s fate in their hands, the makers of such ostensibly pro-live Hollywood films as Knocked Up and Juno have also taken them. In Juno, the unborn child’s finger-nail is enough to motivate the heroine’s "choice," but this makes it seem merely whimsical and therefore indirectly and even paradoxically confirms the pro-choice view just as the opposite "choice" in 4 Months does the pro-life view. At one point, Otilia stops to admire some "cute" new-born kittens on her way to arrange her friend’s abortion, as if to remind us that the sentimentalism that comes so easily to Hollywood is an irrelevance in the lives of those who are forced to look at things as they really are. There is nothing trivial about the act we are forced to witness in Mr Mungiu’s movie, and that makes it both more morally compelling and more true to life.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

James Bowman. "4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days." JamesBowman.net (February 28, 2008).

Reprinted with permission of James Bowman.

THE AUTHOR

James Bowman is or has been: movie critic, The American Spectator (1990 to date); American editor, The Times Literary Supplement of London (1991 to date); media critic, The New Criterion (1993 to date); Washington correspondent, The Spectator of London (1989-1991); teacher of English and Head of General Studies, Portsmouth Grammar School, Portsmouth, England (1980-1989). Mr. Bowman received his M.A. and A.B.D. degrees from Pembroke College, University of Cambridge, England. He is currently a resident scholar at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. He is the author of Media Madness: The Corruption of Our Political Culture and Honor: A History. Visit his website here.

Copyright © 2008 James Bowman

Article: I feel like, therefore I am

PROFESSOR THEOPHILUS

Once again, the lock on my office door wasn't cooperating with the key.

I felt like a safecracker. Insert the key just so . . . apply just enough twisting force to feel resistance . . . withdraw it gradually . . . wait for the resistance to disappear . . . then turn it all the way. This was my third try.

Maybe that's why I didn't see her coming. Just as the key finally turned, she came rolling around the corner like a small armored troop carrier. What happened when we collided was a perfect demonstration of the law of conservation of momentum. Body A came to a dead stop; Body B rebounded. Fortunately, Body B landed on his softest part. Body A stood horrified, mouth open, backpack clutched to her chest.

I looked up at her five feet, two inches. Julie. I might have known. "Never mind what they say on the artillery range," I grunted. "What you lack in mass, you make up in velocity."

"Professor Theophilus! I'm so sorry! Are you all right? Did you get hurt? Why aren't you getting up?"

Though I would have preferred to sit still for a minute, I got to my feet and limped into my office just to keep her from fretting. Gingerly, I sat down at my desk. Julie stood in the doorway uncertainly. "Are you sure you're all right? Can I do anything for you?"

"Yes, I'm sure, and yes, you can do something. First, you can pour me a cup of that cold coffee over there." She grimaced, but did as I asked. "Much better," I said, sipping. "Second, you can tell me what gives with the Girl-Shot-From-Cannon act."

"Girl shot from — oh. Julie's ears flushed pink. "I should have looked where I was going. But I'd just got my first essay back from Professor Thanatos, and when I saw my grade — I was so upset — I could hardly — " A new thought painted itself across her face. She sat down. "Professor Theophilus, would you do me a big, big favor?"

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that 'big, big.'"

"I know you didn't assign my essay. But would you read it anyway and tell me if you think it's really awful?"

"Julie, I try not to second-guess my colleagues' grading decisions."

"I'm not asking you to second-guess anything. But just look at this." She fished the essay out of her backpack and began to turn over the pages. "Page one, no comment. Page two, no comment. Pages three, four, five, no comment. See? Finally, bottom of page six, 'Weak argumentation, flaccid organization.' That's all. When I asked Professor Thanatos to explain, he just said 'This is the university, Miss Terwilliger. You must sink or swim.'"


When I get criticisms from teachers or classmates, I just cringe." She wiped the corners of her eyes. "How can I stop being so hypersensitive?"


Yes, that sounded like Thanatos. I sighed. "Hand it over."

Five minutes passed as I pencilled little check marks in the margins. "All right," I said finally, "let's talk." Julie perched herself nervously right on the edge of her chair.

"I won't tell you what grade I would have given the essay, but I can offer some basic critique."

"That's all I wanted."

"For starters, look at your introductory paragraph. There's no thesis statement."

"No what?"

"Thesis. You need to say what it is that you're going to prove. Even if you're not proving anything, you need to explain what question you're going to answer or what problem you're going to solve. But you don't do any of those things."

Her ears flushed again. "But I feel like I did. See, right here I say 'My essay is about the existence of God.'"

"An 'about' statement is not the same as a thesis statement, Julie. It doesn't tell me what you want to accomplish in the essay. I could read the whole thing and still not know whether you'd succeeded."

"But I feel like the essay itself shows what I'm trying to accomplish."

"You may 'feel like' it does, but it doesn't. See here, in paragraph three you seem to be asking whether God exists. But in paragraph five you seem to be asking whether most people think He exists, and in paragraph eight you seem to be asking whether people who talk about God all mean the same thing. Is there some big question that links these three little ones together, or are you just meandering? You never tell me."

Her flush deepened and began to spread.

"Here's another thing," I said. "Look at the argument here in paragraph four. You seem to be reasoning 'all A are X, and all B are X, so all A are B,' but that doesn't follow. It's like saying 'All dogs are four-legged animals, and all cats are four-legged animals, so all dogs are cats.' They aren't. We call that 'faking the connection.'"

Her voice went up a full octave. "I haven't faked anything!"

"I don't mean you've tried to deceive. That's just the name of the fallacy."

"But I don't feel like I've committed a fallacy! You're just not being fair," Julie complained. Surprised, I looked up. The flush had reached her nose, and her eyes looked moist. "I feel you're just looking for things wrong."

I set down the pencil, pushed back my chair, hooked my thumbs in my pockets, and smiled. "Well, of course I am. You asked me to."

"After all the effort I put into the essay, you say it's no good!"

"I haven't yet said whether I think it's good or bad."

"I feel that's exactly what you're doing."

"But you asked me to do that too." I opened the drawer and pantomimed lifting out a tape recorder and setting it on the desk between us. "Rewind. Stop. Play. 'Professor Theophilus, would you read my essay and tell me if it's really awful?'"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she said. "I'm doing it again." I handed her a box of tissues. She blew her nose. "Just like I always do."

"What is it that you always do?"

"I always get like this when I'm criticized. Even when it's good for me and I've asked for it," she sniffled, "like today." She took another tissue. "Now that I'm in college, I'm always being judged. I love my subject, but sometimes I dread going to class. When I get criticisms from teachers or classmates, I just cringe." She wiped the corners of her eyes. "How can I stop being so hypersensitive?"

"Do you really want to know?" I asked. "It may feel like more criticism."

She blew her nose one more time. "Yes. Tell me."

"Then the first thing to consider is what you gain from your hypersensitivity."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that whoever criticizes you is punished with emotional recriminations. It's a way to shut people up before they've said all they meant to say, and it puts the blame on them. That makes you feel better, but you pay a high price, because you don't hear things you need to hear. Do you need the tissue box again?"

Her eyes went from my face, to the box, then back again. She shook her head. I smiled and continued.

"The second thing you need to do to re-train your attention. When I criticized your work today, you didn't talk about the work, but about yourself."

"But everything I said was about the work!"


"Irrelevant. Pride says ‘It's all about me.’ That attitude can manifest itself in more than one way. If I'm selfish, I treat my wants as what it's all about. If I'm conceited, I treat my worth as what it's all about. You're not selfish or conceited, so you think you're not proud. Yet just a few minutes ago, you were treating your hurt feelings as what it's all about."


"Play back the tape again. Listen to what you said. You 'felt like' you had made your thesis clear. You 'felt like' you had reasoned well. You 'felt like' you hadn't committed fallacies. None of those feelings were in the essay. They were in you. Julie, no matter what you're feeling when someone criticizes your work, don't make your feelings the subject. Make the work the subject."

"You want me to think less about myself," she said. "But it seems to me that I don't think enough of myself. If I had more self-esteem, then I wouldn't be so hypersensitive."

I laughed. "Nothing you've said suggests that you lack confidence. What you lack is the humility to hear criticism. Your problem isn't humility, but pride."

"But — but I don't think I'm better than everyone else!"

"Irrelevant. Pride says ‘It's all about me.’ That attitude can manifest itself in more than one way. If I'm selfish, I treat my wants as what it's all about. If I'm conceited, I treat my worth as what it's all about. You're not selfish or conceited, so you think you're not proud. Yet just a few minutes ago, you were treating your hurt feelings as what it's all about."

"You think that's pride?"

I shrugged. "It fits the definition. What do you think?"

Julie glanced at her watch, grabbed her backpack and stood up. "I have to get to class, but I'll come back tomorrow. Will you hold onto my essay for me?"

"Certainly. Why?"

She paused on her way out and looked back through the door. "My arguments," she said. "I think I should hear the rest of your criticisms."

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Professor Theophilus (aka J. Budziszewski). "I feel like, therefore I am." Boundless (2003).

TrueU.org is a community for college students who want to know and confidently discuss the Christian worldview. It is an apostolate of Focus on the Family.

Reprinted with permission of J. Budziszewski.

THE AUTHOR

J. Budziszewski (Boojee-shefski) earned his doctorate from Yale University in 1981. He teaches at the University of Texas in Austin, in the Departments of Government and Philosophy where he specializes in the relations among ethical theory, political theory, and Christian theology. The focus of his current research is natural law and moral self deception. J. Budziszewski is a former atheist, former political radical, former shipyard welder, and former lots of other things, including former young and former thin. He's been married for more than thirty years to his high school sweetheart, Sandra, and has two daughters. He loves teaching. He says he also loves contemporary music, but it turns out that he means "the contemporaries of Johann Sebastian Bach." He deserted his faith during college but returned to Christ a dozen years later and entered the Catholic Church at Easter 2004. Among a number of other books, he is the author of Ask Me Anything: Provocative Answers for College Students, How to Stay Christian in College, What We Can't Not Know: A Guide, The Revenge of Conscience: Politics and the Fall of Man, and Written on the Heart: The Case for Natural Law. J. Budziszewski is on the advisory board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2008 J. Budziszewski

Article: From Robespierre to al-Qa’eda: categorical extermination

PAUL JOHNSON

An intellectual is someone who thinks ideas matter more than people.

Maximilien Robespierre
1758-1794

If people get in the way of ideas they must be swept aside and, if necessary, put in concentration camps or killed. To intellectuals, individuals as such are not interesting and do not matter. Indeed individualism is a hindrance to the pursuit of ideals in an absolute sense. The individual, with his quirks and quiddities, his mixture of good and bad, intelligence and stupidity, longing for justice but anxiety to promote his own selfish interests, does not fit into a utopian community. Hence utopians, if they are in earnest, tend to become terrorists. A significant case was Robespierre, who invented both utopianism and terrorism in their modern forms. On 17 February 1794 he outlined what the new and perfect republic was going to do:

"In our country we want to substitute ethics for egotism, integrity for honour, principles for habits, duties for protocol, the empire of reason for the tyranny of changing taste, scorn of vice for the scorn of misfortune, pride for insolence, elevation of soul for vanity, the love of glory for the love of money, good men for amusing companions, merit for intrigue, genius for cleverness, truth for wit, the charm of happiness for the boredom of sensuality, the greatness of man for the pettiness of ‘the great’, a magnanimous, strong, happy people for an amiable, frivolous, miserable people, that is to say all the virtues and all the miracles of the republic for the vices and all the absurdities of the monarchy."

This is a fascinating passage and in some ways a frank one. By admitting he wanted to abolish honour, habits, taste, vanity, wit and sensuality, Robespierre indicated that he was not only opposed to many of the ineradicable characteristics of individuals but out of sympathy with human nature itself. And he was not proposing reform or education into virtue, but the immediate abolition of the old order of behaviour, which he identified with the monarchy. It is therefore no wonder he felt impelled to further his utopian solution by using terror against an entire, undifferentiated class, the nobility, a huge section of the population, variously calculated as from one eighth to one tenth, who were to be judged, imprisoned or executed not on the basis of their individual behaviour or guilt, but solely on account of their birth and class.


Lenin, who regarded Robespierre as one of his heroes, pursued the same policy, but with wider aims and an extended list of categorical enemies.


Intellectuals engaged in building utopias have, without exception so far as I know, invariably ignored individualism and operated against entire categories of human beings. Lenin, who regarded Robespierre as one of his heroes, pursued the same policy, but with wider aims and an extended list of categorical enemies. He wanted to destroy not merely the aristos but the entire bourgeoisie, the very class from which Robespierre sprang, and for whose benefit the original revolution had been conducted. He used terror in exactly the same way as Robespierre, only on a much bigger scale. Tsarist Russia was a cruel and merciless society, but it was also, in its own way, a Christian one. In the 80 years before 1917, an average of 17 people were executed every year in Russia, virtually all of them convicted of murder. By 1918–19, with Lenin firmly in power, his prime instrument of terror, the Cheka, was executing 1,000 a month. The methodology of the terror was explained by a senior official of the Cheka:

"We are not carrying out war against individuals. We are exterminating the bourgeoisie as a class. We are not looking for evidence or witnesses to reveal deeds or words against the Soviet power. The first question which we ask is — to what class does he belong, what are his origins, upbringing, education or profession? [The answers to] these questions decide the fate of the accused. This is the essence of the Red Terror."

Stalin’s expansion of the Leninist terror, or the ‘Great Purges’, raised the execution rate, in the years 1937–38, to 40,000 a month. But the principle was the same. Those executed, whether prominent ex-comrades or simple party officials (or anyone else), were not judged on account of actual deeds, albeit in certain ‘show trials’ evidence and confessions were extracted under torture. They all belonged to categories, ‘enemies of the USSR’ or ‘counter-revolutionaries’, ‘Trotskyists’, etc.

When it comes to killing in pursuit of their respective utopias, Hitler and Stalin were essentially the same. Hitler killed counter-revolutionaries and enemies of his state on the basis of individual guilt, but most of his victims fell into racial categories: gypsies, Jews and Slavs. Unlike Stalin, who was building a class-utopia and killed or caused to die a likely 20 million in pursuit of it, Hitler worked for a race-utopia, in the process killing six million Jews, men, women and children, judged worthy of death on account of their birth, in accordance with the Nuremberg Laws.


The total number of victims thus killed under Mao’s brand of communism is calculated by Jung Chang in her life of Mao as 70 million, an atrocity rate which makes even Stalin and Hitler, let alone Robespierre, seem almost amateurish.


There was a further extension of this categorical extermination during the long reign of terror of Mao Tse-tung in China. He killed millions at all periods of his rule, with little or no attention to individual guilt. His categories were loosely defined too: a ‘rich peasant’ was whoever he declared one, at a particular time or in a particular place. And during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960s the victims were defined as all those affected by or exhibiting the traditional culture. This last was a huge extension of the class category, and tended to expand into an age category — people were often killed primarily because they were old and therefore, by definition, ‘unreformed’. The total number of victims thus killed under Mao’s brand of communism is calculated by Jung Chang in her life of Mao as 70 million, an atrocity rate which makes even Stalin and Hitler, let alone Robespierre, seem almost amateurish. It is argued that, in relation to the total population of China, this death rate was comparatively minor. But examples of categorical terror extermination, when applied by intellectual fanatics to smaller countries, can amount to a variety of genocide. In Cambodia, between April 1975 and the beginning of 1977, Pol Pot and his colleagues, who have been well defined as ‘Sartre’s Children’, ended the lives of 1.2 million people for ‘cultural’ reasons — one fifth of the population.

Categorical extermination or mass killing did not begin with Robespierre, of course. It is an ancient phenomenon. And many examples of modern times — in the Congo Basin, Sudan, West Africa and Zimbabwe, for example — are primitive in their essence, being racial, religious and tribal, though sometimes dressed up in modern intellectual garments, such as ‘anti-colonialism’ in Zimbabwe. We have to remember that the witch doctor was the original intellectual. Modern Islamic terrorism-extermination is undoubtedly a mixture of old and new. Young Islamic intellectuals from Leeds who become suicide-bombers and kill London commuters indiscriminately are motivated by a mixture of religious faith and modern subvarieties of Marxism. They kill people not on the basis of individual guilt but of race and culture or even mere association (with the West). They tend to kill the poor because they are easier to get at and unprotected (the rich and powerful are well-defended). Whether Islamic terrorism, already categorical, will extend itself into a general policy of extermination against the West — a practical policy if they obtain and, still more, manufacture nuclear and thermonuclear weapons — depends on how far we are prepared to go to stop them.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Paul Johnson. "From Robespierre to al-Qa’eda: categorical extermination." The Spectator (September 10, 2005).

This article is from Paul Johnson's "And another thing" column for The Spectator and is reprinted with permission of the author.

THE AUTHOR

Paul Johnson, celebrated journalist and historian, is the author most recently of George Washington: The Founding Father. Among his other widely acclaimed books are A History of the American People, Modern Times, A History of the Jews, Intellectuals, Art: A New History, and The Quest for God: Personal Pilgrimage. He also produces brief surveys that slip into the pocket, such as his popular The Renaissance and Napoleon. He is a frequent contributor to the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, the Spectator, and the Daily Telegraph. He lectures all over the world and lives in Notting Hill (London) and Somerset. Copyright © 2008 Paul Johnson

Article: Not 'new sins' but an old media blind spot

PHILIP LAWLER

When he finished his interview with L'Osservatore Romano, Archishop Gianfranco Girotti probably thought that his main message had been an appeal to Catholics to use the sacrament of Confession. Little did he know that the English-language news media would play the interview as a newly revised list of sins.

Archbishop Girotti, the regent of the Apostolic Penitentiary, spoke to the Vatican newspaper about "new forms of social sin" in our era. He mentioned such transgressions as destructive research on human embryos, degradation of the environment, and drug trafficking. Within hours, dozens of media sources were suggesting that the Vatican had radically revised the Ten Commandments, issuing a list of "new sins."

As usual, a British newspaper leapt to the forefront with the most sensational and misleading coverage. The Daily Telegraph made the preposterous claim that Archbishop Girotti's list replaced the traditional Catholic understanding of the seven deadly sins:

It replaces the list originally drawn up by Pope Gregory the Great in the 6th Century, which included envy, gluttony, greed, lust, wrath and pride.

Could we have a reality check, please?

When a second-tier Vatican official gives a newspaper interview, he is not proclaiming new Church doctrines. Archbishop Girotti was obviously trying to offer a new, provocative perspective on some enduring truths. The effort backfired-- but in a very revealing way.

An ordinary reader, basing his opinion only on the inane Telegraph coverage, might conclude that a "sin," in the Catholic understanding, is nothing more than a violation of rules set down by a group of men in Rome. If these rules are entirely arbitrary, then Vatican officials can change them at will; some sins will cease to exist and other "new sins" will replace them. But that notion of sin is ludicrous.


When a second-tier Vatican official gives a newspaper interview, he is not proclaiming new Church doctrines. Archbishop Girotti was obviously trying to offer a new, provocative perspective on some enduring truths. The effort backfired-- but in a very revealing way.


Sin is an objective wrong: a violation of God's law. What is sinful today will be sinful tomorrow, and a deadly sin will remain deadly, whether or not Telegraph editors recognize the moral danger. The traditional list of deadly sins remains intact; nothing has replaced it. Greed, gluttony, and lust are as wrong today as they were a day or a year or a century ago. If Archbishop Girotti referred to "new" sins, it is because some of the offenses he named (such as genetic manipulation) were impossible in the past, and others (such as international drug trafficking) are much more prevalent today, in a global society. Insofar as people could have engaged in these activities a century ago, they would have been sinful then as well.

A sin is not a sin because simply an archbishop proclaims it so. Sin, the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us, "is an offense against reason, truth, and right conscience…" The precepts of "reason, truth, and right conscience" do not shift in response to political trends, nor do they change at the whim of Vatican officials.

The fundamental point of the L'Osservatore Romano interview was that Catholics need to recover a sense of sin, make use of the sacrament of Confession, and receive absolution for their offenses. Sin, the archbishop insisted, is a reality that man cannot escape.

Archbishop Girotti said that the modern world does not understand the nature of sin. With their coverage of the interview, the mass media unintentionally underlined the prelate's point.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Philip Lawler. “Not ‘new sins’ but an old media blind spot.” Catholic World News: Phil’s Forum (March 10, 2008).

Catholic World News is an independent Catholic news service staffed by lay Catholic journalists, dedicated to providing accurate world news, written from a distinctively Catholic perspective.

THE AUTHOR

Phil Lawler, is the Editor of CWNews.com and the author most recently, of The Faithful Departed: The Collapse of Boston's Catholic Culture.

Copyright © 2008 Catholic World News

Article: The Easter Triduum: Entering into the Paschal Mystery

CARL E. OLSON

The liturgical year is a great and ongoing proclamation by the Church of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and a celebration of the Mystery of the Word.

Through this yearly cycle, the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains, "the various aspects of the one Paschal mystery unfold"(CCC 1171). The Easter Triduum holds a special place in the liturgical year because it marks the culmination of the yearly celebration in proclaiming the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

The Latin word triduum refers to a period of three days and has long been used to describe various three-day observances that prepared for a feast day through liturgy, prayer, and fasting. But it is most often used to describe the three days prior to the great feast of Easter: Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday and the Easter Vigil. The General Norms for the Liturgical Year state that the Easter Triduum begins with the evening Mass of the Lord's Supper on Holy Thursday, "reaches its high point in the Easter Vigil, and closes with evening prayer on Easter Sunday" (par 19).

Just as Sunday is the high point of the week, Easter is the high point of the year. The meaning of the great feast is revealed and anticipated throughout the Triduum, which brings the people of God into contact — through liturgy, symbol, and sacrament — with the central events of the life of Christ: the Last Supper, His trial and crucifixion, His time in the tomb, and His Resurrection from the dead. In this way, "the mystery of the Resurrection, in which Christ crushed death, permeates with its powerful energy our old time, until all is subjected to him" (CCC 1169). During these three days of contemplation and anticipation the liturgies emphasize the sacrificial death of Christ on the Cross, and the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist, by which the faithful enter into the life-giving Passion of Christ and grow in hope of eternal life in Him.

Holy Thursday | The Lord's Supper

The Triduum begins with the evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper on Holy Thursday, which commemorates when the Eucharist was instituted at the Last Supper by Jesus. The traditional English name for this day, "Maundy Thursday", comes from the Latin phrase Mandatum novum — "a new command" (or mandate) — which comes from Christ’s words: "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another; even as I have loved you, that you also love one another" (Jn 13:34). The Gospel reading for the liturgy is from the first part of the same chapter and depicts Jesus washing the feet of the disciples, an act of servitude (commonly done by slaves or servants in ancient cultures) and great humility.


Thus, in this memorial of Jesus’ last meal with His disciples, the faithful are reminded of the everlasting value of that meal, the gift of the priesthood, the grave dangers of turning away from God, the necessity of the approaching Cross, and the abiding love that the Lord has for His people.


Earlier on Holy Thursday (or earlier in the week) the bishop celebrates the Chrism Mass, which focuses on the ordained priesthood and the public renewal by priests of their promises to faithfully fulfill their office. In the evening liturgy, the priest, who is persona Christi, will wash the feet of several parishioners, oftentimes catechumens and candidates who will be entering into full communion with the Church at Easter Vigil. In this way the many connections between the Eucharist, salvation, self-sacrifice, and service to others are brought together.

These realities are further anticipated in Jesus’ remark about the approaching betrayal by Judas: "Whoever has bathed has no need except to have his feet washed, for he is clean all over; so you are clean, but not all." The sacrificial nature of the Eucharist is brought out in the Old Testament reading, from Exodus 12, which recounts the first Passover and God’s command for the people of Israel, enslaved in Egypt, to kill a perfect lamb, eat it, and then spread its blood over the door as a sign of fidelity to the one, true God. Likewise, the reading from Paul’s epistle to the Christians in Corinth (1 Cor 11) repeats the words given by the Son of God to His apostles at the Last Supper: "This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me" and "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me."

Thus, in this memorial of Jesus’ last meal with His disciples, the faithful are reminded of the everlasting value of that meal, the gift of the priesthood, the grave dangers of turning away from God, the necessity of the approaching Cross, and the abiding love that the Lord has for His people.

Good Friday | Veneration of the Cross

This is the first full day of the Easter Triduum, a day commemorating the Passion, Cross, and death of Jesus Christ, and therefore a day of strict fasting. The liturgy is profoundly austere, perhaps the most simple and stark liturgy of the entire year. The liturgy of the Lord’s Passion consists of three parts: the liturgy of the Word, the veneration of the Cross, and the reception of Communion. Although Communion is given and received, this liturgy is not a Mass; this practice dates back to the earliest years of the Church and is meant to emphasize the somber, mournful character of the day. The Body of Christ that is received by the faithful on Good Friday was consecrated the prior evening at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper and, in most cases, was adored until midnight or another late hour.


The simple, direct form of the Good Friday liturgy and readings brings the faithful face to face with the cross, the great scandal and paradox of Christianity.


The liturgy of the Word begins with silence. After a prayer, there are readings from Isaiah 52 and 53 (about the suffering Servant), Psalm 31 (a great Messianic psalm), and the epistle to the Hebrews (about Christ the new and eternal high priest). Each of these readings draws out the mystery of the suffering Messiah who conquers through death and who is revealed through what seemingly destroys Him. Then the Passion from the Gospel of John (18:1-19:42) is proclaimed, often by several different lectors reading respective parts (Jesus, the guards, Peter, Caiaphas the high priest, Pilate, the soldiers). In this reading the great drama of the Passion unfolds, with Jew and Gentile, male and female, and the powerful and the weak all revealed for who they are and how their choices to follow or deny Christ will affect their lives and the lives of others.

The simple, direct form of the Good Friday liturgy and readings brings the faithful face to face with the cross, the great scandal and paradox of Christianity. The cross is solemnly venerated after intercessory prayers are offered for the world and for all people. The deacon (or another minister) brings out the veiled cross in procession. The priest takes the cross, stands with it in front of the altar and faces the people, then uncovers the upper part of the cross, the right arm of the cross, and then the entire cross. As he unveils each part, he sings, "This is the wood of the cross." He places the cross and then venerates it; other clergy, lay ministers, and the faithful then approach and venerate the cross by touching or kissing it. In this way each person acknowledges the instrument of Christ’s death and publicly demonstrates their willingness to take up their cross and follow Christ, regardless of what trials and sufferings it might involve.

Afterward, the faithful receive Communion and then depart silently. In the Byzantine rite, Communion is not even offered on this day. At Vespers a "shroud" bearing a painting of the lifeless Christ is carried in a burial procession, and the faithful keep vigil before it through the night.

Holy Saturday and Easter Vigil | The Mother of All Vigils

The ancient Church celebrated Holy Saturday with strict fasting in preparation of the celebration of Easter. After sundown the Christians would hold an all-night vigil, which concluded with baptism and Eucharist at the break of dawn. The same idea (if not the identical timeline) is found in the Easter Vigil today, which is the high point of the Easter Triduum and is filled with an abundance of readings, symbols, ceremony, and sacraments.

The Easter Vigil, the Church states, ranks "the mother of all vigils" (General Norms, 21). Being a vigil — a time of anticipation and preparation — it takes place at night, starting after nightfall and finishing before daybreak on Easter, thus beginning and ending in darkness. It consists of four general parts: the Service of Light, the Liturgy of the Word, Christian Initiation, and Liturgy of the Eucharist.

The Service of Light begins outdoors (or in a space outside of the main sanctuary) and in darkness. A fire is lit and blessed, and then the Paschal candle, which symbolizes the light of Christ, is lit from the fire by the priest, who proclaims: "May the light of Christ, rising in glory, dispel the darkness of our hearts and minds." The biblical themes of light removing darkness and life overcoming death suffuse the entire Vigil. The Paschal candle will be placed in the sanctuary (usually by the altar) for the Easter season, then will be kept in the baptistery so that when the sacrament of baptism is administered the candles of the baptized can be lit from it.


The Easter Vigil concludes with the Liturgy of the Eucharist and the reception of the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the Crucified and Risen Lord. For as Eastern Catholics sing hundreds of times during the Paschal season, "Christ is risen from the dead; by death He conquered death, and to those in the graves, He granted life!"


The faithful then join in procession back to the main sanctuary. The deacon (or priest, if no deacon is present), carries the Paschal Candle, lifting it three different times and chanting: "Christ our Light!" The people respond by singing, "Thanks be to God!" Everyone’s candles are lit from the Paschal candle and the faithful return in procession into the sanctuary. Then the Exultet is sung by the deacon (or priest or cantor). This is an ancient and beautiful poetic hymn of praise to God for the light of the Paschal candle. It may be as old as Saint Ambrose (d. 397) and has been part of the Roman tradition since the ninth century. In the darkness of the church, lit only by candles, the faithful listen to the song of light and glory:

Rejoice, O earth, in shining splendor,
radiant in the brightness of your King!
Christ has conquered! Glory fills you!
Darkness vanishes for ever!

And, concluding:

May the Morning Star which never sets
find this flame still burning:
Christ, that Morning Star,
who came back from the dead,
and shed his peaceful light on all mankind,
your Son, who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

The Liturgy of the Word follows, consisting of seven readings from the Old Testament and two from the New Testament. These readings include the story of creation (Genesis 1 and 2), Abraham and Isaac (Genesis 22), the crossing of the Red Sea (Exodus 14 and 15), the prophet Isaiah proclaiming God’s love (Isaiah 54), Isaiah’s exhortation to seek God (Isaiah 55), a passage from Baruch about the glory of God (Baruch 3 and 4), a prophecy of Ezekiel (Ezekiel 36), Saint Paul on being baptized into Jesus Christ (Rom 6), and the Gospel of Luke about the empty tomb discovered on Easter morning (Luke 24:1-21).

These readings constitute an overview of salvation history and God’s various interventions into time and space, beginning with Creation and concluding with the angel telling Mary Magdalene and others that Jesus is no longer dead; "You seek Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified. He has been raised; he is not here." Through these readings "the Lord ‘beginning with Moses and all the prophets’ (Lk 24.27, 44-45) meets us once again on our journey and, opening up our minds and hearts, prepares us to share in the breaking of the bread and the drinking of the cup" (General Norms, 11).

Some of the readings are focused on baptism, that sacrament which brings man into saving communion with God’s divine life. Consider, for example, Saint Paul’s remarks in Romans 6: "We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life." Easter is in many ways the season of baptism, the sacrament of Christian initiation, in which those who formally lived in darkness and death are buried and baptized in Christ, emerging filled with light and life.

From the early days of the ancient Church the Easter Vigil has been the time for adult converts to be baptized and enter the Church. After the conclusion of the Liturgy of the Word, catechumens (those who have never been baptized) and candidates (those who have been baptized in a non-Catholic Christian denomination) are initiated into the Church by (respectively) baptism and confirmation. The faithful are sprinkled with holy water and renew their baptismal vows. Then all adult candidates are confirmed and general intercessions are stated. The Easter Vigil concludes with the Liturgy of the Eucharist and the reception of the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of the Crucified and Risen Lord. For as Eastern Catholics sing hundreds of times during the Paschal season, "Christ is risen from the dead; by death He conquered death, and to those in the graves, He granted life!"

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Carl E. Olson. "The Easter Triduum: Entering into the Paschal Mystery." Ignatius Insight (March 18, 2008).

This article was originally published in a slightly different form in the April 9, 2006, edition of Our Sunday Visitor.

THE AUTHOR

Carl E. Olson is the editor of the online magazine IgnatiusInsight.com and moderator of the Ignatius Press web log, the Insight Scoop blog. Carl Olson is the author of Will Catholics Be “Left Behind? A Catholic Critique of the Rapture and Today's Prophecy Preachers (Ignatius Press, 2003) and co-author of the best-selling The Da Vinci Hoax: Exposing the Errors in The Da Vinci Code (Ignatius Press, 2004).

Copyright © 2008 Carl E. Olson

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Wednesday Liturgy: On "Pontifical Masses," and the Exultet

ROME, MARCH 18, 2008 (Zenit.org).- Answered by Legionary of Christ Father Edward McNamara, professor of liturgy at the Regina Apostolorum university.

Q1: I have often seen the Mass of the Chrism described as the "Pontifical Mass of the Chrism." Is this correct and, if so, what attributes make it (or any other Mass) pontifical? Also, I have been to a number of Masses where the cardinal archbishop of the diocese is the presider/celebrant. I have noticed that he usually has the deacon read or chant the Gospel, and when the deacon does this, the master of ceremonies hands the bishop his crosier at the start of the Gospel acclamation and holds it until the Gospel is finished. What is the significance of this action? During the Mass of the Chrism, the bishop and priests assembled renew their commitment to priestly service. I remember one of the prayers of the faithful that the bishop prays is for himself, and in that prayer I have heard him pray that he, as bishop, will "speak with a prophetic voice." Are there "standard forms" for this prayer in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal or other liturgical documents, or are there only guidelines as to what this prayer should cover? -- E.G., Chicago

Q2: Can you explain the origins of the Exultet and why choirs and lay cantors have seemingly become the principal proclaimers over that of the clergy? -- J.M., Niceville, Florida

A1: The expression "Pontifical Mass" refers to any solemn Mass celebrated by a diocesan bishop (or an abbot) as high priest of his flock. It is not reserved to a Mass celebrated by the Holy Father.

This Mass is usually considered as a sign of unity in the Church and is celebrated on important feasts and anniversaries with full ceremonial and the complete complement of ministers: concelebrating priests, deacons, acolytes, lectors and the full, active participation of all God's holy people. It is usually also a sung Mass (cf. Ceremonial of Bishops, Nos. 119-121).

While the terms "Pontifical Mass" and "Pontifical High Mass" are still used in current speech, the 1984 Ceremonial of Bishops no longer uses this expression. It officially refers to this Mass as the "Stational Mass of the Diocesan Bishop," thereby reintroducing an ancient formulation.

According to the Ceremonial of Bishops (No. 59), the bishop carries the crosier or pastoral staff in his own territory as a sign of his pastoral office. As a general rule the bishop holds the staff, "its curved head turned away from himself and towards the people: as he walks in procession, listens to the Gospel reading, and gives the homily; also when receiving religious vows and promises or a profession of faith and when he bestows a blessing on persons, unless the blessing includes the laying on of hands."

Whenever the diocesan bishop permits another bishop to celebrate a solemn Mass within his territory, the visiting bishop may also use the pastoral staff.

Although the Roman Missal provides texts for the prayers for the renewal of commitment to priestly service, the rubric in the English version of the missal says that the bishop speaks to the priests and the people "in these or similar words."

In the text provided in the missal the bishop addresses the people: "Pray also for me that despite my own unworthiness I may faithfully fulfil the office of apostle which Jesus Christ has entrusted to me. Pray that I may become more like our High Priest and Good Shepherd, the teacher and servant of all, and so be a genuine sign of Christ's loving presence among you."

I suppose that the prayer heard by our reader was a legitimate variation of this text which implores prayers for the bishop to fearlessly preach the Gospel with an authentically prophetic voice.

A2: The origin of the Exultet is intimately connected to that of the Easter candle. We dealt with this theme in our column of April 3, 2007.

In this column we wrote: "There is clear evidence that this solemn rite began no later than the second half of the fourth century. For example, the use of singing a hymn in praise of the candle and the Easter mystery is mentioned as an established custom in a letter of St. Jerome, written in 384 to Presidio, a deacon from Piacenza, Italy.

"Sts. Ambrose and Augustine are also known to have composed such Easter proclamations. The poetic and solemn text of the 'Exultet,' or Easter proclamation now in use, originated in the fifth century but its author is unknown."

Singing the Exultet is a proper function of a deacon although the priest may also do so. If this is not possible, another cantor may sing the Exultet.

Some vernacular versions of the Exultet also allow for the introduction of choral parts and responses. But this does not exclude the fact that the deacon or priest may also sing the proper parts.

In some places it appears that choirs and lay cantors have replaced the ordained ministers. This probably has more to do with the level of musical preparation of the clergy than with any designs of usurpation.

From personal experience I know how much time one has to invest so that this wonderful, and only apparently simple, melody truly ascends to God as an authentic prayer. It is understandable why some deacons and priests balk at the challenge rather than risk executing the Easter proclamation in every possible sense of the word.